Tag Archives: romance

Romantic Monday: A Good Memory


Once upon a time there was a girl named Sparklebumps who was young and dating her future husband. She had a best friend at the time who we shall call Carebear who had just had a baby and was depressed because she was alone and very horny. Sparklebumps, being the good friend that she was, tried to  do what she could to help Carebear by introducing Carebear to an aquaintance of the future husband’s, who was called the Redhead. Sparklebumps had always thought the Redhead was a nice guy, and thought her best friend deserved to have a nice guy for a change. Upon the introduction, Carebear and the Redhead proceeded to get drunk and fucked each other in a drunken stupor, therefore destroying any possible deeper feelings that could have possibly arisen in the future. In the morning, the Redhead snuck off before dawn without even saying goodbye to Carebear.

Because Carebear had the belief that fucking a drunk person meant true love was in the air, a couple of weeks later she suggested to Sparklebumps that they invite the Redhead out for drinks. (with the intention of trying to win his heart by once again offering her pussy to him.) So off the two girls went, to hang out in a crowded bar with the Redhead who had no feelings of affection for Carebear, but was too bored to refuse the offer of free drinks.

The night wore on, each of the three growing increasingly innebriated off of Goldschlagger and whiskey shots. Carebear kept trying to have meaningful conversation with the Redhead, who was distracted by a drunken Sparklebumps who was just entertaining herself by people watching and hanging over the bar flirting with the female bartenders. Soon enough, the bar closed down and the three were kicked out.

The plan was for the girls to stay at the Redhead’s house for the night, so they hopped in a cab and on the way, Sparklebumps shrieked at the taxi driver to “STOP! OOH! Stop here! We must go to the sex toy store!” because she was a horny little devil and wanted to buy a vibrator for those times when her future husband didn’t want to do her. (Which were much too often.) They were disappointed to find the sex store was closed for the night, and so continued on to their designated destination.

When they arrived at the Redhead’s dumpy apartment, Sparklebumps busied herself by washing the mountain of dirty dishes that resided in the Bachelor Redhead’s sink. She grinned drunkenly and agreed when the Redhead responded to the act with a “You’re so sweet. You would make a good wife to somebody some day.” She then went into the only bedroom and semi-passed out, not wishing to hear the sexual noises that were soon to come from her friend and the Redhead. She was awakened when Carebear came in and told her to “Get up off the floor and go out into the living room so we can fuck on the bed.” Sparklebumps stumbled into the living room, irritated at her friend’s bitchiness.

Not five minutes passed before the Redhead came out of the bedroom and nearly picked Sparklebumps up in a passionate embrace and started kissing her deeply. Sparkle was surprised, and pleased, because she found the Redhead to be sexy for a reason that she never understood. The makeout session continued on for a good 15 minutes before the Redhead tried to slip his hand down her pants. Sparkle stopped him and said, “No, I don’t want it now; not like this,” and rolled her eyes in the direction of the bedroom where Carebear sat listening and feeling rejected.

No sooner did the words come from Sparkle’s mouth than Carebear burst from the room and screamed, “You bitch! You knew I wanted him! What the fuck is the matter with you? You have a boyfriend.” She then turned her fury on the Redhead. “She has a boyfriend, you asshole!” She then retreated back into the bedroom, fuming drunkenly.

Sparkle was very upset; she had pissed off her friend and nearly cheated on her boyfriend, and yet, her heart and her body were telling her the makeout session was not to be regretted. She urged the Redhead to reconcile with Carebear, or at least to go fuck her, to get her mind off of the whole situation. The Redhead obliged, and Sparkle passed out listening to the ridiculous fucking noises of a pissed off girl and a drunken Redhead.

The following morning, the two girls left without saying a word to each other or the Redhead. On the drive home, they reconciled, and vowed that a boy would never again come between them and their friendship.

Ten years later, Sparklebumps left the man who had become her husband, and was re-aquainted with the Redhead. He became her Fuck Buddy, which she enjoyed immensely, but realized it would become more when he presented her with a butterfly mood ring she had forgotten at his house that fateful night of the makeout session. She wondered aloud at the idea that he had kept such an insignificant trinket all these years, through two moves.

He looked at her and shrugged. Then he said, “You were a good memory, so I held on to it.”

P.S. The Redhead became a Rockstar after that.

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The Romance of Call of Duty 4


I have long been a lover of video games. My fondest memories of my cousins are the ones that include hours upon hours of playing Nintendo in their basement shouting “Push the button really fast so it doesn’t go back to the beginning!” (A well-known trick that any Mario Bros addict knows.) My parents firmly believed that Nintendo was the devil, so despite begging for a Nintendo EVERY YEAR for Christmas, I had to resign myself to playing at my friend’s houses.

In my pre-teen years, my attention was drawn more toward Sega, since my best friend and her brother had one. I am sure she got annoyed with me when I was SUPPOSED to come to her house to play with her, and ended up playing Sonic with her brother instead. Oops.

The first gift I bought my ex-husband when we started dating was a Playstation 2, which had just come out at the time. In retrospect, probably NOT the best gift to bestow upon the boyfriend of someone who basks in attention. We ended up accruing what I believe was almost every single game they made for that console. Twisted Metal Black was AWESOME, man!

Several years ago when I was still with my ex, I told him I wanted an XBOX for Christmas. I was thrilled when he gave me one, complete with the 2009 edition of WWE Smackdown, (YES!) I didn’t get to play it much because I was working alot at the time.

When I moved in with my Rockstar, my XBOX promptly died. (sad day!) We went and bought a new one, because he had just bought a new game. I will admit, perhaps the allure of video games has lessened for me slightly, but then my Rockstar bought Call of Duty 4 last week.

I have never been one of those game console freaks that waits camped out for the newest Halo or Gears of War game. (I’m a dork but not that much of one!) So that explains why we are behind the times with the whole Call of Duty thing.

Monday nights have become our designated Drinking Night. (mainly because we don’t have the Daughter that night) so when I got home Monday, I poured us both a yum-yum Bicardi Diet with the Bicardi to the line (we make our drinks in these classic Coke glasses and I use the ridges as a measuring tool for alcohol- the line makes our drinks to be 2/3’s alcohol and 1/3 mixer- it doesn’t always taste great, but it’s very effective) My Rockstar then told me we should play against each other on Call of Duty.

I must be clear- I am a very non-violent person- but if I’m playing a game that requires me to shoot someone, you’d better be sure they will be dead.  I can see where many couples could fall deeply in love while playing Call of Duty. Just check out the romantic things we spouted to each other:

Me: (in a sing-song drunken voice) Where are you? I’m gonna find you and shoot you in the head!

Me: You fucker! You stole my flag!

Him: You shot me in the ass!

Him: Bitch! Come back here!

Me: HAHAHA! I shot you in the head!

Me: EEEEIIIII! You shot me in the head!

Him: Fuck, you killed me when I shot you!

Me: Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Why won’t you die?! I shot you like, 40 times!

Him: HAHA! I sliced your head off or something. I don’t know how I did that.

I will admit, it got a little morbid, which was partly due to the alcohol, but how can you not love someone who is so thrilled to shoot you in the ass?

P.S. I was also greatly amused that one of the options you have is to be a Snetzsnatch. That’s not the way you spell it, but it’s humorous to say. 🙂

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