Dear Body

"Hey dude, what's...What the hell?!"

"...What?"

"You literally reek of blood and guts right now. Like somebody got cut open and sprayed you with their blood. Or you came from a slaughterhouse."

"I still smell? I literally shampooed my hair each day, and I fucking put gel in it and cologne on. I still smell?"

"Yeah it's fucking gross! What the hell happened?"

"Uhhh..."

Friday night. Got too damn drunk and fucked up, take lots of pills for it, but I don't pay much attention to which ones. It's a miracle I didn't succumb to alcohol poisoning. Come home; puke my guts out in the toilet first. 90% accuracy, Rank: B+. Somehow manage to clean up the remnants before I go to sleep. Sleep for 9 or 10 hours I cant fucking count right now, probably less than 8 hours, sweat the booze out, wake up to the rancid smell of my sheets soaked in sweat, crap the booze out. I feel like shit, eat a solid breakfast of cereal, bagel, and black coffee. Remember hangovers involve being very dehydrated; drink a whole bottle of water. Headache is like someone is swinging a sledgehammer at my head, Take a lot of Motrin, Tylenol, Aspirin, and some other white pills I find in my cabinet. Go back to sleep, it's only 11 now, shit. Sleep is choppy, no dreaming I can remember.

Wake up to the horrible sound of my phone ringing and vibrating on my desk. It's my girlfriend calling: she wants to hang out. She can tell I'm hung over, offers some 'relaxation' and chill time. She picks me up, fully aware I'm incapable of operating a car right now, I'm still unable to walk straight, god bless that girl. She drives me over to her place. We watch some movie called Orgazmo with those guys from South Park. Pretty damn hilarious. The porno scenes get me horny. Start getting hard and don't bother covering it or fighting it. She notices my boner and likes the idea.

"It's the pleats, it's the pleats in the pants. it's an optical illusion," God I love Anchorman. She takes her pants off, revealing some skimpy grey lace underwear. I pull her panties down. For some reason I have this weird fixation of eating my girl out first but she's never had a problem with it. First lick: very strong flavor, normally I would ask what's going on but I'm too hungover to care. Truly one of the best things in life is the flavor of a nice pussy. It completes me. Spread her lips open with my fingers and rub my nose up and down on her clit. She moans heavily.

I keep going down on her until I notice she smells funky down there. The hangover is starting to end, the rest of my senses are finally kicking in. My higher mental functions are returning. She smells like she hasn't cleaned. She smells like iron...is she on her period? Please don't. Please please don't be. I would really rather not know I'm licking a bloody girl...despite the idea being something I could always be able to say I did. But then neither of us is prepared for this: her period happens full throttle, blood ejecting...all over my face. What the literal fuck. I get really sick immediately due to the whole thing happening and my stomach still feeling like shit. I puke blood all over her pussy and legs and it splashes on me. Whoa. Why'd I puke blood? What the fuck? Why am I puking blood?

We're both screaming like idiots in a horror movie. We run to her bathroom. She gets in the shower since the blood on her is a more serious concern than mine, I mean I did just throw up blood on her pussy for fuck's sake. She really has to get that shit out now. I start washing my face in the sink. I can't do much about the blood in my hair until she's done. She begins to cry and tells me to get her a douche. I grab one from under her sink (where she keeps all her lady products). She finishes up in the shower after about 10 minutes of thorough cleaning. Then I hop in the shower and finish getting the blood out of my hair. I don't think we'll ever recover from this episode. I think her couch is always going to be a reminder of this. We silently clean that up as well. We both apologize to each other when I decide maybe I should leave. She asks me about my hangover and blood puke. As it turns out you shouldn't take lots of Motrin and Tylenol for a hangover to be when you're still really drunk. And I don't know about the other pills' effects on this. Fuck my life.

"You know, I'd rather not talk about it."

"Is it bad?"

"I don't want to talk about it. at all."

"Whatever, but go and buy some fucking Axe while we're here, I'm starting to get nauseous standing around you."