Okay, so, I went out this guy recently and he was really sweet, despite the umteen bagillion times I embarassed myself.

So, it got me thinking. Before erupting I had never been out on a date before, and now that I get asked out a few times every...oh... hour or so, I find that it's alot of fun to meet new people and spend time socializing.

So, I'm curious, since your eruption what's the worst date story you can share with the rest of us?

I had a date about a year or so ago. She was driving her car on a snowy night. I let her hit me so I could introduce myself. Once she stopped to see what had happened, I snuck into her car.

When she got back in, I surprised her. She seemed nice enough, but she was starteld by my appearance, so I had to restrain her. She was much more cooperative and we began a pleasant dialogue, while I drove. She was firmly strapped in on the passenger side, and seemed to be enjoying herself.

After a little while though, she started crying. I'm not sure why though, because I only wanted to help her understand my interest in her. Eventually, her crying started to get on my nerves, and I had stop her it. It was so unbecoming and weak coming from a pretty girl like that. So I decided that she needed a little excitement.

I swerved into the oncoming traffic on the highway. I was sure that the exhilaration would help with her tears. She sould not cooperate, and began to wail. Can you believe it...She wailed!

I was trying to bring her some excitement and she was being rude. Eventually, I came to understand that as a baseline, she would be incapable of joy or appreciation for what I was doing for her. I got angry.

In the distance, through the falling snow, I saw headlights from a tractor-trailer. I would show this ungrateful bitch just how angry I was. So I headed straight for it. As the truck got closer and closer, she began to whimper. Such disrespect. I hit the accelerator and swerved into its path.

Oh the joy I felt as metal, hit metal. My body smashed into the steering wheel, as the front end of the car crumpled into the passenger compartment. I could have sworn that the moment we hit the truck head-on, she was laughing. I was happy.

When I repaired my battered body I searched for my date. She was nowhere to be found. She had run out on me. Can you believe that! Not even a thank you.


Here is the actual Fiction of the incident. It is the second post.
http://www.nprime.net/ubbthreads.php/ubb/showflat/Number/54354/page/48#Post54354

So yeah talk to this girl online and decided to go out. Ended up almost getting arrested for kidnapping and assault. You know the usual King Kong line.

Intoxicated, fumbling, and unsatisfying gropefest with a closeted T2Mite in a Phoneix Room booth. Now you know.

Since erupting?


Hmmmmm. I think, think mind you, that there was one date a few years ago in which I only got a blow-job.

Yeah, that kind of sucked.

Well...Rachel having to swallow back puke was really kind of a downer.

She could have dumped your half-a-face-havin' ass entirely. The fact that she hasn't says something about her, something I know already. You probably know it, too. So be greateful.

I would have to say the worst date I ever had was oddly the best date I ever had. I learned how to care again that night and it sent chills threw me. I think I spent most of that day looking into my Love's eyes and trying not to kill myself. It is true what hey say, hell is the possibility that there is heaven.

Contessa,
I don't believe that I've ever had a bad date, so I'm afraid that I can't really contribute a good story to your thread. However, does the opportunity exist to turn this thread into a success story? Instead of looking for the worst dates, would you be interested in trying to find the best date and hooking up with Eddy Ally for an evening? Afterwards you'll hopefully not have to worry about thinking about any other bad dates.

Yes... you silly.

Oh... that is so gross.

Pardon me while I go bleach my mind's eye.

Okay, if that was a pick-up line you probably would have been better off going with: "You must be a parking ticket, cuz you got fine written all over you."

However as I said, my date with Flea went rather well. So it was a success. He was the first person I've met since my eruption that made me feel 'normal', and that meant a lot.

Now, Eddy, if you are interesting in meeting me, then I'm sure I could find some time to come see you. I'm always interested in meeting novas, I find that every one is unique.

However, it would hardly be a date.

If you are interested, by all means contact me.

Oral sex is that repulsive to you?

Must be a fun date.

Well, not really. Honestly I've never been a participant in that particular act so I wouldn't know. It was more the mental image of thos in the reply doin it that was repulsive.

And, I'll have you know Mr. uh, Trooper, that I am a rather fun date. Pardon me if I just perfer romance over shagging. Not every moment spend in the company of a person you are interested in needs to degenerate into snogging and roaming hands.

I would recommend a few books, but you don't seem the type unless 'Guns N' Ammo' or 'Cabela's' on the cover.

Well, I once tried dating an unerupted woman. It was very awkward. You can get on fine with them at most levels, but to really share a deep emotional bond with someone who hasn't undergone the life-changing moment of rebirth at eruption... I think it may even be impossible. You don't see the world in the same light. As such, it was probably the worst ever not because it was really bad as such, but because it was doomed from before it started by fundamental reasons beyond our control.

So...you're like fucking fifteen right? Or just a really uptight eighteen year-old?

No, I'll have you know I'm in my 20's thankyouverymuch.

Worst date since my eruption? Oh, god, let's see...

About a year after I popped, I met a guy at the Double Door. It wasn't as hard to get drunk then, and he had a killer smile, so we talked for a while. Turned out he was the drummer for one of the bands playing that night, so later on he and the other guys came by the booth where I was sitting. More talking, more drinks. Nice guys, and the later it got, the hotter the drummer-boy looked.

Around one or so in the afternoon, I woke up in their hotel room with a jackhammer going full-speed in my head and housekeeping banging on the door. Apparently, there was a couch lodged in front of it, which explained why she couldn't get in. I'm still not sure how it got there, and how the guys managed to leave, but they did leave me some snapshots which cleared up a lot of gray areas.

I have not had a date since my eruption.

I remember dates prior to my node waking up, but the emotional content of those memories is weak, as though those dates happened to someone else.

Since my eruption I only seem to be able to relate on a competitive or combative level. It is hard for me to relate to someone in a social way when I am reflexively planning how best to neutralise them / stop them neutralising me.

I understand that there is something lacking in me. And part of me feels that lack. But the worry and concern engendered are phantom pangs at best.

Do I miss companionship? I must, on some level at least, or I would not be here. I would not be taking part in a discussion which my calculating mind tells me is irrelevant. And yet I am.

My apologies, Contessa, for rambling in your thread. The subject made me feel something, so I have explored it.

A girl in her twenties who's never taken a shot in the mouth. Fuck me, and here I thought I'd seen everything.

Old people talking about sex. Nova class squick!

I went on a date. I thought he was nice. Verra nice. He brought me a flower and took me out and listened to me talk about everything and anything. He even laughed when should and didn't when he shouldn't. When the photo vultures showed up I had to leave because they wouldn't leave us alone. I waited for three days for him to call but he didn't. He didn't send me a text message or anything. That sucks.

So, I went on a date with this woman once. I liked her, she was sweet and innocent (all the things I'm not). Anyway, she had one slight drawback... she was sort of going through a divorce and well, she wasn't quite legally seperated yet.

Long story short, we're flying around the city, and things start to get pretty hot and steamy about 50 stories over Chicago's streets. We're makin out, and all was pretty peachy until something happened. Something odd happened.

I did the righ thing.

I stopped it and tried to explain that she was still married, and we probably should not go any further until after the divorce was final, but if all she wanted was sex, well, we could do that but if we really wanted to be together and give our 'budding' relationship a chance we should probably wait.

She agreed and we continued our date and I thought everything ended rather well, until she never called me again and ended up fuckin' some other guy a few weeks later whose morals were as loose then as she is now.

Taught me one thing: Doing the right thing is bullshit. Take a fool everything you can, and leave them broken, confused, and wondering why they ever trusted you in the first place.

There, I shared.

Jesus tittyfucking Christ, Revenant, could your vagina possibly be any fucking bigger? You get burned by one bitch, and this constitutes a fucking moral 180? You know what? I call bullshit. If you'd told me this over a fucking brew, I would have sympathized with you. But the fact that you had to fucking announce it here so everybody could see how you're such a decent fucking whatever-the-hell-it-is-you-are is teenager jerkoff bullshit.

I want you to read carefully what I am about to write, you thick-headed, pissant, shitstain, because it's True, with a big 'T';
Being a fucking man and doing the right fucking thing means manning up and fucking doing it even when there isn't wet snatch and pats on the back at the end of the line. Being a man means doing the right thing because it's the right fucking thing, not because you need your goddamn ego stroked like an insecure jock. If you can't do the right thing because one bitch played cocktease with you and then gave it up to some opportunistic turd who doesn't hold himself to any standard at all, then you know what? Fuck you. Don't do the right thing. The real men of this world don't want you in their club, anyway, you fucking weakling.

First, I need a spell checker. Fuck, that post was messed up.

Second. I know where you're coming from, seriously, I do. But one this shit isn't easy. I've been trying for a year now to pull off my first moral 180 and so far it ain't gettin me very far. The closer I'm getting to the things I want, the farther away from me they seem to get. It's doing nothing but frustrating me and I'm getting pissed about it.

I know doing the right thing was the best call, but it didn't make it hurt any less. Keeping away from people and not letting them in like that is the best way to keep them from hurting me. May sound silly to some of you, but it's what I believe.

Speakin of, you're buyin' the next drinks. I'll accept that as compensation for the vagina comment.

Doing the right thing pretty much always hurts, Danny. The reason it hurts is because the right thing is frequently the polar fucking opposite of the expedient thing, the selfish thing, or the easy thing, all of which tends to be the most instantly gratifying thing. If doing the right thing was easy, everyone would do it. Being selfish and cruel is easy; being a goddamn man is hard. But so is exercise, and if you don't do that, you turn into a fat tub of shit. And if you don't flex your morals, you turn into a weak tub of shit.

Anyway, sure. First round's on me.

You needn't apologize Gryle. I hope that whatever it is that you 'felt' brings you closer to what you're searching for.

That is the most vulgar thing I think I've ever heard. First of all, why would a woman even consider such a thing and second of all why with you?

You're a jerk.

Well, I never said you should particularly want to suck my hog, sweetheart. You're practically a fuckin' kid, and apparently a goddamn dolt besides. Letting you give a deep kiss to my one-eyed baloney poney would be like free samples day at the retard factory. Now, having said that, if you did decide to tongue-wrestle cyclops, you wouldn't be the first. Chew on that. But don't use your teeth too much, they hate that.

All that aside, I'm calling bullshit on you, kiddo. I refuse to believe anybody in the first world could have reached this age and be this spectacularly fucking naive. But just in case, I'm going to cover all my bases; believe it or not, sugartush, there's a good percentage of women out there who like to slurp dong, and among them, women who don't swallow are a small and often-mocked minority. Some ladies even enjoy the taste of a man, just like when I take my fish soup special at the Y, frankly, I'm near-as-dammit intoxicated. Nothing quite like dame sauce.

**bows down to Machina**

I never said I was naive. I've seen the act performed in a film and frankly I can't for the life of me figure out why people enjoy such things. I suppose, having never engaged in any form of relations myself that I am speaking out of ignorance. However, I'm still entitled to my opinion, am I not?

And please don't call me 'Sugarbush'. At least be something close to respectful.

And Lemmy, stop encouraging him.

<Jots this down> This is good stuff... Machina, you're a fuckin' genius.

Dame sauce... that's a new one.

Why? I agree. I think any straight female, or gay male, who doesn't dig having their tonsils tickled by the crotch column is fucking weird. I mean, I could spend an hour or so giving an up close and personal "hi" to the little man in the boat. It's fun. Oral pleasure is a blast. Fun to give and receive. Just like Xmas.