Vs. Hot Wiccan Redhead, Pt. II

[Vitriola]

In my ongoing attampt to piss off AARDVAAAARKK with my futile attempts to get this chick into bed, I present Hot Wiccan Redhead, the Revenge. Come along with me in an epic adventure to figure out the female of the species, and what the fuck it wants.

9:30: First game of pool is begun. I could not have sucked harder if I'd been crawling through the desert for a week and suddenly been presented with a margarita. HWR informs us that she is feeling 'emotional' today, and starts singing that suicide-inducing Cher song 'Do You Believe In Love' very loudly. I curse the day I posted about this creature in Pinback's thread, because I vociferously blame him for how this evening is going. You fucking jinx.

9:37: Call Robb. Try and get advice. Advice being unforthcoming, I decide that more beer might actually improve things. Drink 2 Coronas.

10:00: My game has improved with added lubrication, and I am kicking ass. HWR definitely notices this, indicates with salacious tone that she would totally check out my naked body.

10:05: HWR points out a woman who she says is her type, and except for her being brunette, has about the same amount in common with me as the lead singer of Crowbar. We stare at this chick for the next 10 minutes.

10:20: HWR asks me if I'm bi. Now, do you ask this question of someone unless you have a vested interest in the answer? Yes, dolt, you all say to yourselves, but I don't have much to go on, so I am pretending that she gives a shit. I ask her if she is, she gives me a look like I'm 2 boards short of a manger and says yes. Well, hell, she could just be a tease.

10:35: She asks me to go to the Type O Negative show on Monday night, her treat. I have no idea if this invitation is for me alone, or the group. There were 5 people there, but she talked only to me. I do not know what to make of this. I'm assuming she's not even going to call.

10:38: I make some wiseass remark about not getting in each other's way if we feel like hitting on women at the concert. Provided, of course, that it's not us going to be hooking up. She looks at me again like I should really just keep my mouth for drinking. I tell her to sit the fuck down and I whip her ass at pool.

10:40: Call Robb. Brag about how much I rule at pool. Bemoan my lack of shutting the fuck up around women. He laughs at me. Fucking useless. To redeem myself, I remind him how much I kicked HIS ass at pool. He says I still suck with women. I hang up. But not before I take a few shots at pool, during which I handed the phone to Z, J, and HWR herself. Each of them say in succession, OMG!!! She is TOTALLY like that! What the fuck did you tell them about me, douchebag?

11:30: She has really not talked to me for like an hour, and is hanging all over her (sic) man, who Z tells me he thinks she is not with anymore. Weird. I take the hint and don't really talk to her.

11:35: She asks me if I'm still with Z. I say no. I say we can girltalk later. I resist urge to make crack about having a naughty slumber party while we're at it. I'm improving. Of course, the last time I used that line, I actually had one.

12:00: Call Robb. Have some sort of slurred discussion that linked by association David Berkowitz to Tracy Chapman.

12:00: We leave to go to their place to watch The Cube II. She sits next to me on couch. She, however, leans the other way. We watch movie in silence. After movie, I was actually able to impress her with my knowledge of space/time garbage and managed to say a few funny things. She repeats invite for anime and concert Monday night. We'll just see about that one.

2:30: Call Robb. I have no idea what was coming out of my mouth at this point. I ask those present if I'm going to hit this bitch. They kinda look away, sigh, cough, accidentally hang up the phone, but nobody responds. I think they're jealous.

I'm gonna score.

[Ice Cream Jonsey]

... Welcome to ICJ vs Vitriola vs the so-called Hot Wiccan Redhead.

IN THIS ISSUE: A considered response.

(Though Vitriola never really responds when I go point to point. Fear not! I do it for all of you. )

9:37: Call Robb. Try and get advice. Advice being unforthcoming, I decide that more beer might actually improve things. Drink 2 Coronas.

I'll go ahead and say that it was the static on the cell phone that was traveling at 186,000 miles per second that prevented any of this top-secret intel from getting through to me.

What it looked like on *my* end was that one of my treasured users had decided to give *me* a call on a Saturday night while she was out shooting pool with a bunch of other people.

You can see what that could very well do do a guy.

10:00: My game has improved with added lubrication

I have nothing here, I just enjoyed quoting this line. For those of you playing along with the "Home Game" of ICJ vs Vitriola vs the so-called Hot Wiccan Redhead, see if you can predict just when it makes an appearance in this thread later!


snipped: A bunch of nigh-lesbian activity that, frankly, should be a lot hotter as described than it currently is. Perhaps... perhaps when it really gets "urbane" and "sophisticated" it sort of loses on the red hot fantasy side of it? Captain, I shall consider it!

10:40: Call Robb. Brag about how much I rule at pool.

This is the first verifiable piece of information that the lovely Miss Vitriola has dropped upon this thread.

Bemoan my lack of shutting the fuck up around women. He laughs at me. Fucking useless.

Where the hell did this come from? Sister, you just can't make content up. Content is not something you just throw together. Matthews, content is something you need to organize.

To redeem myself, I remind him how much I kicked HIS ass at pool. He says I still suck with women.

I recall saying that I am pretty good at Interplay's 1995 release "Virtual Pool." I recall *you* then saying, "Well, I guess it wasn't a very good simulation," which is hilarious and left me speechless for the third time in my life. Why the hell would you want to leave this out? This is like Soderbergh having George Clooney and Jenniger Lopez in his movie and then deciding to leave the sex scene out of his film adaption of Out of Sight.

I hang up. But not before I take a few shots at pool, during which I handed the phone to Z, J, and HWR herself. Each of them say in succession, OMG!!! She is TOTALLY like that! What the fuck did you tell them about me, douchebag?

Your friends are quality people and deserve a lot better to have to go speak to a guy who is always "on" at every hour of every day, considering just how draining that can be to listen to. What did we talk about? It was grand, it was poignant, it was just the slightest bit off-kilter. It was like introducing yourself to someone by saying, "Hi. I'm Ice Cream Jonsey. I'm an emergency room surgeon. Have you ever been in an emergency room on a Saturday night?" The person being told this isn't quite sure if they like this guy yet or not, but at least they know that encounters with him certainly are not going to be boring. That, metaphorically, is what we talked about.

Except for the Hot Wiccan Redhead, I should add, who was the only one that didn't get into the whole "magic" of the traded phone conversation. Hmmm... magic! Oh well. Magic today is sort of a lost art between people anyway.

12:00: Call Robb. Have some sort of slurred discussion that linked by association David Berkowitz to Tracy Chapman.

Yeah. Yeah, I did some good work here. You really do get value for your time when you're on the phone with Ice Cream Freaking Jonsey, don't you?

2:30: Call Robb. I have no idea what was coming out of my mouth at this point. I ask those present if I'm going to hit this bitch. They kinda look away, sigh, cough, accidentally hang up the phone, but nobody responds. I think they're jealous.

This is where I bowed out. I was finishing up "The Watchmen" when the phone went off. I actually ended up staying up until something like 7:00am local but it was during the haunting Hangman's hour where it was indeed most nebulous.

I'm gonna score.

This is lovely. This is just great. Not only, most nights, am I the only person on this BBS within three or four mouse clicks of a Fark link to not be drunk while accessing it, I'm also going to be issued an out-of-tune viola and be forced to endlessly play the Loser's Lament for all you thrusting, shrieking nymphomaniacs. My next weekend is a three day weekend but the way I like to describe it would be as a four-night bender. I am off to stock up for the upcoming festivities. Lucky for me I live across the street from the world's finest corporate entity that provides only the finest in fluids and potions that best wet one's whistle. I mean, hey, as I hear it, one's game tends to improve with added lubrication.

[Teufel ZeKK]

Due to previous attempts to hide my identity by vested interests on this forum, you all are hearby commanded to forget the name attached to the left side of this thread.

Thank you for your support and back to this week's episode of The Z Factor.

First off, lemme refresh some people on some important details previous commentators for this thread have failed to mention.

1) I am better at phone conversations than I am at pool. As such, there will be no mention of my pool game for this entire Z Factor. (Not to mention, I'm really really shitty at phone conversations. i.e. actually asking, "a/s/l" over a phone line.)

2) Hot Wiccan Redhead reads tarot. She has not yet offered to read Tarot for Ayatollah Vitriola to my knowledge. Why is this important? Because a) it's the perfect opportunity to slip in some hot lesbian innuendo. and b) IT'S THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY TO SLIP IN SOME LESBIAN INNUENDO!

3) HWR, as she will heretofore be known, has a really cool boyfriend/friend she lives with and makes out with in pool halls. He's pretty kick ass and I'm gonna have him make me a guitar someday. Why does this have relevence to the Z Factor? It obviously doesn't! But then again, nothing in the previous two posts had much grounding in reality anyway so I'm free to take a few liberties here as I see fit. I am the Z, and this is MY factor!

4) I am telepathic.

5) Bitches want me. I secrete a pheremone saturated hormone through my scalp that when walking past a woman of decent looks and moderate intellegence (The ability to make a comprehensible three word sentence) she is overcome with an unbearable urge to have my abortion. ::Insert wicked bad, "I'm so uber cool I quote deleted scenes from cult movies on forum boards" laugh:: Obviously, this power has no effect on Ayatollah Vitriola.

6) HWR has a full beard. Yes, lemme admit the first confirmable fact of the night, HWR has a BEARD! Yes, you heard it here first. Now don't get me wrong, if she was falling for my patent pending scalp hormone, I'd totally feel her boobs and drool in the back of some disease-fill pool hall bathroom stall, but she has a very faint beard. ::Note to readers, repeat that and I will make you suffer, you're here to read not to repeat::

and now that we have that out of the way, let's move on to the summary of the night.

1) sometime while Vitriola is talking to ICJ, I fail to hit any balls with the cue ball. No liquor had been consumed at this point.

2) Some other time while Vitriola is talking to ICJ, I miss another easy shot and get laughed at it by the entire populace of the pool hall. Shame ensues.

3) Another time Vitriola is talking to ICJ, too drunk to remember my air time on my cell is free on weekends and miss a shot because I'm muttering about the price of airtime these days. (Who're we kidding Mr. Z? You couldn't make that shot on the shotingest day of your life if you had an electrified shooting machine.)

4) Miss more shots while HWR, Matedire (My best friend), and myself talk to ICJ.

5) Drink umpteenth Colorado Bulldog. Begin to have conversation with Illusionary HWR and Vitriola concerning possible threesome.

6) Imaginary Vitriola and HWR slap the crap out of me for about what seems a half an hour.

7) Wake up in drive through of cheap Mexican food stand with cell phone being shoved in ear. Talk to ICJ.

8) Head home and watch Terminator 2 while Imaginary Vitriola and HWR toss Imaginary popcorn at me. Crying ensues.

9) Wake up with hairball in throat from cat sleeping on my face.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

[Worm]

2) Hot Wiccan Redhead reads tarot. She has not yet offered to read Tarot for Ayatollah Vitriola to my knowledge. Why is this important? Because a) it's the perfect opportunity to slip in some hot lesbian innuendo. and b) IT'S THE PERFECT OPPORTUNITY TO SLIP IN SOME LESBIAN INNUENDO!

Great, thanks for making me worry about my mom reading tarot. Oh, and welcome to the boards!

[Debaser]

This is lovely. This is just great. Not only, most nights, am I the only person on this BBS within three or four mouse clicks of a Fark link to not be drunk while accessing it, I'm also going to be issued an out-of-tune viola and be forced to endlessly play the Loser's Lament for all you thrusting, shrieking nymphomaniacs.

Have no fear there, Robb. If there's anything my presence adds to a BBS it's that the guy on there who was previously "having the worst luck with members of the preferred sex" suddenly gets knocked out of last place. But maybe we can take up the monastic life or something.

[Matedire]

Ok, so "Zekk" and "Vitrecola" are on here and they have decided to drop my name so lets see the real dark intimate secrets of these two and others involved in something I call the......

J-Lo-down
(because my first name is Josh and it sort of funny yeah....)

Well lets see, lets start out at this concert we went to about 3 weeks ago where we met this "Hot Wiccan-Methaddict-Red-Head"........Vitrecola and I (Matedire) are playing pool, some sexual tension so I can get here to miss her shot, where Zekk is talking to HWMRD, is now how she will be refered to, then HWMRD's boyfriend thing comes over and "claims" his territory, if thats what you want to call it. The rest of the night goes on pool is played, Dying Fetus kicks ass and we all go home exchanging phone #'s. Except I do not give nor recieve a # due to the fact of the "I just met these people at a bar and they gave me ciggrettes and really hope I dont run into them again, so I dont have to pay them back" rule. I am sure you all know what I mean.

The next time we meet is where it gets really out of hand....Zekk and I sit on this really comfortable, rod up my ass, futon while the so called boyfriend of HWMRD talks about bands he has smoked up and how he is going to make guitars.........and to top it all off theres some deafing crap playing in the back ground called "Thrill Kult" wow every song sounds the same. But I am in techno so what say do I have in it......none. The night proceeds with this excellent 2 round card game called FLUXX, which would be fun if I was living in a old-folks home waiting for my death. Night two then ends at 11pm and the "We have to get up in the morning" line comes out and I await in-patiently by the door. And for some reason phone #'s are exchanged again????

So the 3rd night we all hang out which was saturday night, and to give a little in sight to the way I was feeling, was massive head congestion and head-ache. But I still agree to go to the bar, and hustle everyone there playing pool. Zekk miss shots but he's the man so I dont really give him shit. Vitrecola sticks her ass out towards HWMRD even when she isnt in seeing distance of Vitrecola's ass. Then some time of the night roles around and Vitrecola decides to run up Zekks phone bill again and makes some CELL phone calls. The phone at one point or another is handed to me with "its rob" and spend the next 5 minutes going off on how much hatred I have towards Vitrecola and can not await her death and how much she (is a)

C ant
U nderstand
N ormal
T hinking

Rob is on the phone like whose this guy? I, by the end of the pool round am ready to go home but I dont want to ruin every-bodies fun so I continue along with this "Lets get to know eachother so we can take funny pictures of our Naughty parts and post them on the web" shin-dig, and trust me I have seen this thousands of times already living with Zekk......uh...........never mind that last one. So to continue the night we end up at HWMRD and "boy"-friends apart and watch Cube2 Hypercube. Not a bad movie but the first is better. Anyways nothing really fun happens except that HWMRD leans 1/16" closer to me and not Vitrecola and she gets all butt hurt about it. I mean shit, control that estrogen level, why go out for some "fish tacos" when you got plenty of "Sausage" at home? Well to sum up this night, its once again closed with some "Its getting late" line with the underlining of "Get the hell out so we can Fuck and HWMRD can do some more meth so I can plug her pooper" I have also heard this line plenty times living with the Zekk-defiler............damn I gotta quit saying that kinda shit.

So to sum up the new "Friends" , I guess that Zekk and Vitrecola are going to come up on top again.......if you know what I mean.


and p.s. that whole Citizen Kane of Nod thing is really cool, I love C & C...

And thats the J-Lo-Down.............yep thats funny alright

[Worm]

Yea, Rob is alright. Is everyone who talked to Rob that day going to come on the forums? Does Rob have such raw appeal? Can we <s>blame</s> award Rob with bringing in the influx of content?


EDIT: Fucking strikethrough.

[Ice Cream Jonsey]

Waitasec. What the --?! She has a beard?! And she's more a Meth Head than a Redhead? Ah-hahahahaha!

Best pair of new posters ever.

I have an idea. Maybe the old poster "Bruce's Beard" can hook up with the Hot Bearded Methhead and they can all let us in on a little hot beard-on-beard action.

[bruce]

I'm confused.

Vitriola: did you hit that, or not?

Bruce

[Jethro Q. Walrustitty]

I'm just flabberghasted that, while out partying with several friends, V felt the need to call ICJ not once, not twice, not three times... but four fucking times in one night???

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I present to you the idea that maybe, just maybe, it ISN'T the Bearded Bisexual Bizarre Babe that V is after.

Jonsey, I would recommend "hitting that thang" before it stagnates and seals itself shut for all of eternity.

I mean, geez, back in the old days, one call to a member of the opposite sex while out with your buds was punishable by "whipped" abuse on the BBS the next day.
Two calls, and during the night, people would be asking for whipped! cream on their strawberry sundae, or various other lame attempts at calling out the whipped one.
Three calls, and it's getting creepy. The friends will start to move away in case whippedness is contagious.
Four calls, and you're stalking.

On second thought, Jonsey... be careful!

One last comment - if the big finish to the night was watching "Hypercube" - well, no wonder talking to him seemed like such a good idea. What a turd. One-sentence sum-up of my full review over on my BBS: "Interesting concept; incredibly bad acting, writing, and exploitation of said concept."

[Vitriola]

Bruce, I did NOT hit it, but I supposedly have a date tonight.

Jethro, we're just going have to see who comes out on top of the ICJ vs Vitriola VS HWR vs Zekk vs Matedire Rumble. I know who I have my money on, but, then again, it's not much money and I still have a bet to place in Saratoga before the season ends. And, like, who didn't know I was a stalker, anyway?

[bruce]

Bruce, I did NOT hit it, but I supposedly have a date tonight.

Seriously, how can you NOT hit it? She's doing everything short of pulling your pants off right there in the bar. I mean, the whole "Are you bi" thing? Why are you making this poor woman beg? Are you not going to give her what she needs until she gets on her knees and screams <b>"Fuck me like the wretched whore I am?"</b>

I mean, if that's the case, that's pretty amusing, but my resolve has never held out that long.

Bruce

[Jethro Q. Walrustitty]

V, do you know the sexual history of this chick at all?

I mean, I don't think anyone wants to see a lesbian version of Fatal Attraction or Basic Instinct being played out here.

OK, maybe a little. But without the killing. Point being, if you confess to being a stalker... and this chick you're after is painfully, obviously, and irretrievably out of her goddamned gourd... well, let's just say that we're got two very armed and dangerous Women Of Mass Destruction on our hands here.

If I were you, I'd screw her silly then give her a blast of pepper spray (or bonk her on the head with one of her silly wiccan objects) and do a Feets Don't Fail Me Now out the door. In fact, she's so loopy that I'd almost be tempted to throw a "dental dam" in the works. Who knows what's going on down there? I mean, hell, sounds like, facially, she's working on being able to play Santa Claus at the mall this Christmas, so you might be like Dr. Livingstone going between her legs... you don't want to get malaria going into that jungle!

[bruce]

But what we really want to know is:

<b><i>Did you hit it?</i></b>

Bruce

[Vitriola]

Did I hit it? No. What DID I do, you might ask? Here's what I did. I went to a fucking concert that I would not have gone to if not for her which she said she'd pay for, then, stupidly, not only did I say I'd pay for me but somehow, I ended up paying for my 2 roommates as well, then, the show being $5 more than she had said, used up every last cent I had getting us in, to see 2 bands, one of whom sucked and the other of whom hates their fans and made it glaringly obvious that they did, then I caught her cold, then I went home and took cold medicine, then I had 3 glasses of wine that reacted very badly with the medicine, then I proceeded to have one of the worst nights of my life, and it's all this bitch's fault. But, we're still going to watch anime on Wednesday.

I did borrow a belt of her's for the show, and I made her put it on me and when she did she ran her finger around my waist. That felt nice. Wait, no, I hate this bitch. BITCH!!!

[bruce]

Did I hit it? No.

Jesus Christ.

Send her over to my house and <i>I</i> will hit it <i>for</i> you.

Bruce

[AArdvark]

In my ongoing attampt to piss off AARDVAAAARKK

With content like this? This is great! the repartee is Killing me Just KILLING me!

Let me nutshell this, just for my own amusement...

* So hot redheadded wiccan divinatin' meth loopy chick wants you as much as you want her, but she is playing diffuclt to get.

* You just met her along with a few others at a bar with a pool table (this seems to somewhat close to Jonsey as long distance cell phone charges are expensive) call him 4 four times for ambiguous reasons...

* engage in a variety of social activities, but at no time actually 'make a move'. Curious, captian.


Well, you are just gonna have to take the plunge* and stick your tounge down her throat. That is if you are still talking to her. The WORST that can happen is she gets all bent at you and everyone here makes humorous jokes at your expense. The world wont stop spinning or anything.


THE
JUST DO IT
AARDVARK


* the term 'strap-on' comes to mind somehow....

[Jethro Q. Walrustitty]

Gentlemen. Picture, if you will, this same situation... but that V is actually a male.

He's chasing a chick (who's got a bigger beard than Grizzly friggin' Adams), is teased mercilessly by her, then goes out and calls another friend four times in one night when he's out with her. He also pays his way into a concert that he expects to not enjoy, and in fact, ends up hating.

Just picture the sort of taunts that would be flying.

Anyways, it looks to me like V is whipped to multiple people. Regardless, there's not much excuse for this alternate-reality chick, who is clearly a few tarot cards short of a full deck, to have not made like the guy from Korn and stuck her hand down her pants and tickler her muffstache.

Watching cartoons together, eh? Make sure they're heavy on the tentacles, that'll get her hot. Under any circumstance, if it's just the two of you, at your apartment, and you don't fuck her... well, then, you ought to be ashamed of yourself and should go join a nunnery. Make sure you've got plenty of charged batteries ready to go.

If you're into that sort of thing, BTW, there's a fairly active message base dedicated to that over on... well, you know. I personally can't stand the stuff (gimme live-action Japanese movies - Versus, Ichi the Killer, Evil Dead Trap, Tetsuo, etc - any day) but a few of my users are really into it.

[Ice Cream Jonsey]

If you're into that sort of thing, BTW, there's a fairly active message base dedicated to that over on... well, you know. I personally can't stand the stuff (gimme live-action Japanese movies - Versus, Ichi the Killer, Evil Dead Trap, Tetsuo, etc - any day) but a few of my users are really into it.

You can say the name of your BBS for Christ's sake. Remember, I don't think that trying to combine these two usergroups is a particularly wise thing, but you don't have to not mention the URL for your BBS.

[groucho]

Didn't mention it as I don't want to give the impression that I'm busy trawling for users.

Just saying that there is a good amount of Japanimation talk going on over there.

www.groucho.org, baby.