2002-01-27 6:23 p.m.

dirty can be bad.

aah. still not clean.

the horrible filth has embedded itelf in every one of my pores. i am disgusted. it will be there until i can come to grips with what i did last night. yuck.

here is the lesson that i have learned. you cannot go from daniel to slutboy in one day. i had to learn that the hard way.

i am at a party. i set three goals for myself.

one - seduce a nice boy that i've had my eye on for some time, let's call him 'jamie'

two - keep my violent lez friend from hitting on all the straight girls

three - if goal number one falls through, to hook up with noted fag 'spence' by the end of the night.

the bad part is that i don't even like jamie. he's cute i suppose, in an ugly sort of way. i have to get this across. he's not ugly, just not conventional cute. and not hot.

worse still is that i dislike spence. and everyone knows this. including spence.

smoking bitchsticks in the basement with my bitch beer, i get hungry and jamie is offers me chips. i say no on account of my laziness. but when i get real hungry, i open my mouth wide and ask for some chips. "feed them to me" i tell him. he does. i figure i'm doing okay for myself. not to mention the fact that he had greeted me earlier with an eager hug.

the night is starting to get interesting, but all of a sudden, jamie leaves, at around ELEVEN and i am furious, because not only did i not get a goodbye, but my number one goal is down the crapper.

the party is a moderate success. as we all get drunker ("let's do shots! We need a toast! to Britney!") the living room dance floor gets dirtier and sluttier in a fun way, with just about zero sexual tension between most dancers. spence arrives and we start mad grinding. at this point it's all or nothing. hands are everywhere.

it's four am and everyone who has to leave has left, and those who are spending the night are moseying upstairs to bed. guess who i share a bed with. motherfucking spence.

we start talking and within minutes he's in my pants, and i am revelling in the filth of it all. we are making out naked rolling on a bed for about a half hour. he is a terrible kisser. awful. yuck. the stubble hurts and the slobber is incredibly annoying. i am getting frustrated.

he goes down on me but he is apallingly unskilled, even for a "technically-still-a-virgin" like myself. britney and i share the same affliction. i am not exactly riding a sensual rollercoaster but i am nonetheless enjoying the fact that a boy is on top of me. fun fun.

i get bored and start to explore and i don't like what i see. all the while he serenades me with lines like "i'm sooo glad that we ended up together" and "this is just the way i wanted this party to end". wonderful. he has a nasty biting habit that is not sexy in the least, and i am starting to get extremely frustrated. i don't cum. he does, with little to no work on my part. i won't lower myself to the level of cheap whore. the fact that he does repulses me even more. i whisper "turn off the light" (the lowly glowing lavalamp) just in time to hide my grimace as i roll over, hoping to at least get a decent sleep out of this situation. i get three hours.

at seven-thirty i roll out of bed and leave that fucking cunt lying face down on a pillow. i pick up my stuff and storm out of the room disgusted with myself and the end of my soiree. i plunk down next to my friend in the tv room and sleep for about an hour. spence wakes up, to my chagrin, and i say nothing to him. there is no eye contact whatsoever. he is in the same car as me on the way home and i ignore him.

i showered for almost an hour when i got home. i gargled with listerine. i exfoliated.

i have six hickeys on my neck and chest. i want them off.

i have brought shame to myself. shame shame.

i'm going to bed.

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