Quasi-Girlfriend: A Weekend in the life of a Rising Internet Star
Posted on May 22, 2007
Filed Under Anatomy of a Drunk Man, Daily, Failures
After getting shitfaced Saturday and ending up in a hotel room naked with my quasi-girlfriend Helga (whom, if I remember correctly, was very limber while I was, if I remember correctly, very flaccid), and waking up inside my parked, unlocked car somewhere in Katipunan Sunday Morning after Helga and her friends tried to poison me with Tanduay and robbed me of 7 thousand bucks and my camera; I felt like I needed Monday to be my detox day.
Not surprisingly, I ended up abandoning the entire detox idea and a handful of my friends/bandmates went out Monday night to–Drink some more. We pre-gamed a little at my friend Lesly’s house and after our collective self-confidence was augmented by the immediate effects of alcohol and narcotics, we decided to head out to this bar we used to play gigs at hoping we could meet some chicks and ultimately, get secks.
We arrived at the bar and got us a table across a group of semi-attractive nursing students who looked like they were pretty sloshed themselves. Now I cannot stress enough how this situation is PERFECT for all of us: 4 Talented musicians who used to play in this venue, a group of young, impressionable college chicks who look like they dig rock music and look like they’re going to suck your bird after you impress them with your job/car and promise them a future, and best of all: 27 Peso beers.
In order to give you a better picture of the scene, allow me to list the cast of characters:
Leslie Isip - 27. Drummer Ex Machina. Gaunt and bony, has buck teeth, and best of all–Unemployed.
James ‘Fastest Hands in the west’ Berango - 26. Guitarist. Awful sense of fashion and, also, unemployed.
JL Lingan - 24. Bass. My Best Friend. So I can’t really say anything about him besides the fact that he’s like 4 feet 10 inches tall. Also his feet stink.
Mike ‘Fucking’ Villar. 25. Lead Singer. Rising Internet Star. Marketing Strategist. Easily Earns over 70 Thousand pesos a month. Has three cars. Very good in bed. In his own mind.
Knowing that I probably had the best shot in making progress with our targets, I stood up with my beer and chatted up the waiter whom I knew (because, like I said, we used to play gigs in this place and because I owe him 500 bucks worth of Tokwa.) to check the girls out up close and maybe eavesdrop a little on their conversation. Having a good buzz, I felt like a winner and I have no doubt that if I can only interject a witty comment somewhere, the same witty comments that cemented my status as an Internet Celebrity/Avant garde comedian. In my own mind, I’d get some pussy tonight.
Unfortunately some guy who looks like he sells fish at the local market (compelte with sando, leather belt bag and all. He probably drives an owner-type jeep too. I don’t know. Whatev.) took the empty seat in the girls’ table. The guy looked like he was bombed as hell and was all over the prettiest chick saying douchebaggy stuff like “I had a girlfriend before who looks exactly like you.”
Now, judging from the reaction of the prettiest chick in the group, the situation was very uncomfortable and awkward for her. She was pretty much avoiding eye contact, shifting uncomfortably in her seat and kept silent the whole time.
The guy finally stood up and walked away to join his friend on another table and I saw my opportunity. Like a jungle cat(a really oafish, clumsy one), I walked up to the group, flashed my best “i’m-not-a-sexual-predator-so-please-don’t-mace-me” smile and, without missing a beat, said “You want me to beat him up? Because I can. Actually, we can” motioning to the table where my band mates were.
THIS was when the wheels came off.
Now, I wasn’t really expecting a grand reaction from the girls like immediately jumping me, pulling down my pants and fellating me furiously for the pretentious, swaggering courage I just displayed. What I did expect was for them to open up, say something like “Nah, it’s cool. Don’t bother.” So I can invite them to join me and my friends at our table where I could make out with all of them and watch my friends stab their penises with a fork in envy.
Instead, what happened was the girls just looked at me for a solid 5 seconds until one of them said “That guy’s my uncle. And he’s a police officer.”
Much to my muted chagrin and the eventual delight of my asshole friends who witnessed everything, I walked away as fast as I can, returned to our table, speed-drank 3 red horses and decided to call it a night.
Jesus Christ. I should really stop churning out lame ass pick up lines and instead just be honest and say something like “Um Hi, I won’t pretend to be smooth. And really, all I want is to insert my bird into your vajayjay but since I’m obviously too drunk to even walk straight, that probably wouldn’t happen. So I guess, what I want is for us to check in to a hotel where we can watch ESPN sports center, maybe make out a little, check out in the morning, part ways and never speak again. Also, you can steal my laptop and I wouldn’t mind. Or maybe we can meet up next week, sober so I can stab your mouth with my micro penis. It’s sorta just feels like brushing your teeth!”
P.S. I need your opinion on something. I realize that it might be inappropriate for me to be calling Helga my quasi-girlfriend. But really, what do you call a relationship that goes something like “We’ve been making out every time we see each other, slept together or at least tried to sleep together. I also spent 10 thousand pesos last time we were together and I think I like you until you it got weird when you bit my lower lip off and called my mother a crackhead. And a whore”
Anyone?
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10 Responses to “Quasi-Girlfriend: A Weekend in the life of a Rising Internet Star”
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The Star
Mike "Fucking" Villar
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"The personal blog of Marketing Strategist, Rising Internet Star, Man Blog editor, child pornographer, alcoholic, and cokehead-- Douchebag Jones--Err, Mike Villar! -
Smooth man, smooth. Way smoother than I could ever manage. And yeah, no sarcasm there.
Well you’re fat. Please stop being so fat. How do I fucking turn off comments? HALP!
New Domain, Same good old Mike Villar Goodness! Don’t turn off the comments pls!
NO I WILL NOT STOP COMMENTING AND I WILL NOT TELL YOU HOW TO TURN OFF COMMENTS ON WORDPRESS LOLZ
FUCK. YOU. ALL.
Also, if you’re going to comment at least say something relevant. I mean I asked you a fucking question and I already got two replies via Email (One said Helga’s a non-girlfriend, another said I should call her a…nevermind)
Also, please stop being so fat.
but i can’t! stop being so fat i mean.
Shut up! All of you! Somebody teach me how to disable comments! All I can see is like two check boxes and none of them work! Wordpress is teh suck!
MIkeeee don’t be such a KJ naman! let us comment! I for one have been missing getting to comment on your blog!
comment comment commmeeeeeeennt
ako rin cocomment.
heheh nakikisali lang