Wednesday, November 9, 2011

I.P. Freely

Although a specific genetic makeup is required to grow into a Champion, there are also responsibilities that Champions have for themselves to help maintain performance at the highest level.  In other words, there are a number of obligations and activities that a Champion must partake in to cultivate the physical and mental gifts they were lucky enough to be born with.  To help clarify, I’ll use the original Champion (me) as an example.  When I’m not out pounding beers, fucking sluts, destroying property, getting arrested, or lowering peoples self-esteem to raise my own, I’m working and making money in a new career, going to the gym to build a statuesque physique, teaching myself how to play instruments to enhance the creative side of my personality, and reading books to satisfy my intellectual needs.  And believe it or not, I didn’t go to college just so I could share my crazy experiences in this blog, I also went to get an education.  You see, it is necessary to constantly feed the mind and body the fuel needed to keep the finely-tuned machine know as “a Champion” functioning with the most efficiency.  You can’t just go out one night and expect to win a championship – being a Champion is a lifestyle.  Actually it’s not a lifestyle, it’s my lifestyle.     

Now that I’ve basically explained the blueprints for winning championships, let me tell you about a time when I didn’t do one fucking thing I mentioned in the previous paragraph.  Fuck that shit.  I’m a Champion and I do what I want.  So a few years ago during a snow storm in late December I was throwing a party at my apartment in Oneonta.  During that time I really lost control of myself and didn’t give two shits about my appearance, health, or overall personal well being.  Now I know you’re thinking “Champ, you never give a fuck about that stuff anyways,” but as I mentioned at the beginning of this post, a lot of hard work is put in behind the scenes so I’m able to not give a fuck and get away with it.  During this time period, I skipped the hard work and went straight to the not giving a fuck.

Anyways, the party we were throwing was pretty rowdy, or at least I think it was, because I was by far the drunkest man there.  I would even take the odds that I was the drunkest human being on the planet that night.  I was so drunk that when I went to hit on girls they started asking me the questions that doctors recommend you ask a person who is having a stroke.  I guess that’s what happens when you drink a bottle of Jack Daniels to the face before the party even starts.

Eventually, I realized I was way too fucked up to be at the party and I needed to sleep off the spins that were developing in my eyesight, brain, and stomach.  I went to my room hoping to enjoy the comforts of my bed, but there were people doing jiff in there, and I’m not the type of guy who breaks up a good time just because I need a little beauty rest.  Luckily, one of the girls I was fucking at the time lived right across the street, and without her approval I decided I would go to her apartment and sleep in her bed.  I miraculously made it down all of the staircases in my building without breaking any bones and staggered across the street to the girl’s place.  I sprawled out on her bed and closed my eyes, with dreams of soberness dancing in my head……..

 ….Suddenly I woke up, confused as hell and soaking wet.  I was also naked and still really drunk.  I had no memory of anything I did before I awoke, so I hopped out of the girl’s bed and started looking for my clothes.  Luckily I had relations with this chick many times before, so I at least knew where I was, but as far as my clothes went, they were nowhere to be found.  At this moment I also made a startling realization – I was wet because I pissed in this girl’s bed during my drunken slumber.  It was beer piss too, so there was A LOT.  Her mattress looked like a fully saturated sponge set out to dry on a damp carpet. 

Now you think I would be embarrassed about sharing this, but shit happens, or in this case piss happens.  Plus I rarely get embarrassed by anything I do because Champions don't give a fizzuck.  So after laughing about the situation for a few minutes, I decided that finding my clothes was my number one priority.  Since I was still drunk, I didn’t think to listen closely to see if there was anyone in the living room, and I burst through the bedroom door butt naked.  Well, there were people there, a good number of people, and all of their eyes immediately moved to my dick.  It was completely silent, and the awkwardness was growing so palpable that I felt like I could touch it.  Being a Champion, I had absolutely no shame, and instead I just started laughing hysterically.  They must have initially thought I was a disturbed person, standing there in the nude and laughing like a maniac, but it was all part of my plan.  Laughing can make any moment funny, like this one from Silence of the Lambs:
The laughter was contagious and the next thing I knew everyone was cracking up and slapping their knees.  Someone even gave me a blanket to wrap myself up in and a beer to quench my thirst.  They also told me that it was only 1am, and the party at my apartment was still raging.  Even better, the girl who owns the bed I slept/peed in and fuck on the reg was at my apartment.  I could have continued searching for my clothes but I opted to just walk back to the party in nothing but the blanket, because Champions always have their head in the game.  Going back without my clothes is like when a running back loses his shoe during a play – he doesn’t just stop running, he presses on hoping to reach the end zone.  In this case, the end zone was a pussy and my dick was the running back.

When I got back to my apartment, I turned the blanket into a toga and became the talk of the party.  It was awesome.  After leading a couple dance-offs, I found the girl, and eventually we walked back to her place.  When she saw her bed, she was pretty mad, but she still ended up having sex with me.  Not only did she have sex with me, she didn’t even make me do the laundry the next day to clean her sheets.  And to top it the fuck off, she paid for and walked to pick up my breakfast the next morning while I laid on her couch and watched the Giants beat the Texans.  Seriously.  Champion.                

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