At 2 am, drunk, while getting burgers for the walk home, Marisa, Alicia, and I encountered two reasonably attractive, british-accented gentlemen, also drunk and walking home. They started walking with us under the guise that they didn’t know how to get back to Wallingford, despite our drunken attempts to ditch them (“no, no, you need to go that way, we’re going this way.”) As soon as I realized their accents were fake I became the I’m-having-none-of-this, cock-blocking bitch. Marisa was talking to one of them for a while (“oh cool, you’re in a band?”) and Alicia and the other one had separated themselves to talk about rugby and other things proving he was british. Soon, Marisa caught on to the bullshit and it became clear that these guys thought we were just stupid drunk girls who fell for their fake accents, but didn’t understand that they were trying to come home with us. Oh, we got it alright, we just didn’t want you to come home with us. Then British #1 says in his fake accent “your mate’s lips is on me mate’s lips.” Nice work, Alicia. Then we ditched them.
Tucker Max may have thought I was cock-blocking-bitch friend, but we ladies aren’t just walking cum-dumpsters, and no one actually wanted either of those fake british cocks. More importantly, I realized I can relate even Tucker Max books to real life. So….reading is great?
Alicia
Amy
Challenged 