Explaining My Blog to the Police
THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE!
Last night I was harassed by some cops at a rather inopportune moment: hooking up with this 20-year-old virgin Chinese TikTok girl in the back of my van, high and drunk, street-parked the wrong way on a freezing Tuesday night in New Jersey. They didn’t give me a breathalyzer ‘cause I have plot armor.
They shined their mean bright lights in through the windshield to find Amy and I all tangled up on the twin sized bed installed into the back, behind the drivers’ seat of my 2005 Chevy Astro.
The girl gasped. I said shut up bitch let me do the talking. My erection was significant—still I leapt rather athletically into the front seat to greet Mr. mid-30s-pube-moustache-white-guy chewing gum asking me all sorts of impossible questions, like:
“What are you doing here tonight?”
“Oh… you know… just hanging out with my girlfriend..”
Amy probably blushed in the back. That I called her my girlfriend. She knows I’ll never love again. But if I could she might be the one. She’s gorgeous, smart, she’s a dancer, she’s TikTok-famous, a sensitive young gal, she screams and moans really loud when I put it inside her ‘cause she’s never had it before.
Cop asks me “Where are you coming from?” Another impossible question.
“I’m on a road trip…”
🐷 “With your girlfriend?”
“No she lives here, it’s more of a tour really…”
🐷 “Sir where are you coming from?”
I could not bear to hide any more. The truth will set you free.
“Seattle.”
🐷 “You drove from Seattle… tonight?”
Obviously not, you idiot, that would be a 40 hour drive…
– I don’t say that.
“No, I started in Seattle and I did a big loop around the country. I’m a writer, I’m writing a blog of my travels.”
He didn’t say anything he just kept chewing his gum.
🐷 “You been drinking tonight?”
I cannot lie: Yes sir. One drink.
He calls for backup. He uses a bunch of silly police codes I cannot understand. I am feeling the weight of all that I’ve done. I’m Looking at him earnestly hoping he sees the good in me like most law enforcement officers parents teachers girlfriends etc. have seen so far.
I am thinking about the cocaine sitting in one of the drawers in the back. The drunk underaged girl. The dozens of unpaid parking tickets I’ve racked up on this retarded Harold-and-Kumar-ass adventure around the country.
I’m thinking about this horrific text message I got earlier, saying there’s a past-girl from the blog (who knows which one XD) with a “Lawyer friend” who is rounding up Victims of the Worst Boyfriend Ever to bring suit against me for some new kind of crime against humanity.
^This text message caused me to eat a 5mg edible and seek solace in Amy’s warm embrace. I call the blog Fiction but I personally know that this all completely true.
Back to reality. Cop asks me to step out of the vehicle. Fuck fuck fuck. It’s so cold outside. It’s 25 degrees in April. Why.
This is the third time I’ve been harassed by cops since I got to New Jersey. I know I shouldn’t have started kissing and fondling and groping Amy in the back but I couldn’t help myself, she’s so perfect. And I mean it this time... She’s so pretty I actually feel bad looking at her, that she’s wrapped up with a homeless retard like me. But I can’t blame her. I’m basically Literary Luigi.
I am standing outside the vehicle looking this tall greasy dirtbag cop in the eyes with my gentle sensitive young man stare and He says:
🐷: “alright I can tell you’ve been drinking tonight so we’re gonna have to give you a series of tests okay?”
Okay yeah sure. Time to complete the Don’t-Get-a-DUI challenge. A couple more cops usher me off to the road and we play some fun balance games.
I’ve never had a DUI test before. It’s basically just testing attention span and memory. Little do they know I am a master of mindfulness meditation. So despite the whiskey shots and marijuana gummy I found their tests rather elementary:
They asked me to walk in a straight line, one foot in front of the other,
“AND WITH EACH STEP YOU WILL COUNT ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE. AND THEN YOU WILL TURN AROUND AND DO THE SAME THING COMING BACK– ONE FOOT IN FRONT OF THE OTHER AND WITH EACH STEP YOU WILL SAY ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE.
SIR DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”
yes i understand..
I have fun passing this test with flying colors. I’m high so it’s like hopscotch to me.
Now for a really cool game– I am to stand straight and lift one leg off the ground in front of me. Put both hands at your side (fuck, i’m cold) and LOOK at your extended leg and SHOUT ONE ONETHOUSAND TWO ONETHOUSAND THREE ONETHOUSAND FOUR ONETHOUSAND and so on, until we tell you to stop.
Okay? Do you understand?
yessir…
OKAY GO:
“ONE ONETHOUSAND TWO ONETHOUSAND THREE ONETHOUSAND FOUR ONETHOUSAND FIVE ONETHOUSAND SIX ONETHOUSAND SEVEN ONETHOUSAND EIGHT ONETHOUSAND NINE ONETHOUSAND
(my resolve is starting to break… i am not the mindfulness master i thought I was..)
TEN ONETHOUSAND ELEVEN ONETHOUSAND
(oh fuck thats so many syllables… this is so humiliating…perhaps that’s the point… to break me down, rope me back into the sheeple system… mentally… but the show must go on… i must comply..)
TWELVE ONETHOUSAND THIRTEEN ONETHOUSAND FOURTEEN ONETHOUSAND FIFTEEN ONETHOUSAND SIXTEEN ONETHOUSAND SEVENTEEN ONETHOUSAND
EIGHTEEN ONETHOUSAND NINETEEN ONETHOUSAND TWENTY ONETHOUSAND TWENTY ONE ONETHOUSAND TWENTY TWO ONETHOUSAND TWENTY THREE ONE THOUSAND–
Alright. Stop. You’re good.
They call back to Deputy Pube-Stache. “All clear.”
I climb back in to the drivers seat and get a condescending lecture on Parking.
🐷: “Sir do you know why we checked in on you tonight?
…
You’re street-parked the wrong way with the curb painted yellow. That means no parking.”
“Oh I didn’t know…”
(Nigga I’ve been parking however I want all over the country and Nothing Ever Happens. It’s midnight on a Tuesday. I’m not blocking anybody, what is this…) I don’t say any of this but he can feel me thinking it.
He completely ignores the half-naked girl in the back.
🐷: “There’s a good parking spot right back there. I’m going to move my car so you don’t hit me, and you can pull a K-turn right into that spot.”
I don’t know what a K-turn is but I say “Thank you Officer I will do just that.” and move into the spot with my cold scared tired drunk asian victim shaking in the back.
And then they just drive away. They don’t tell me to take the girl home, no citation, they just drive away.
Almost as if to say: you can fuck this bitch in your van on the street out here, by all means, go ahead, but just don’t do it in a yellow-painted curb facing the wrong way with the engine on.
…OK
So now that they’re gone… I just crawl right back into the bed with her.
Amy told me she was questioned herself and just told the truth. Yes I met him online. Yes he’s from Seattle. Yes he just got here a few days ago and we’ve been hanging out.
Our stories aligned perfectly because we just told the truth. The truth will set you free.
So… we just kept going.
I had to… this girl’s got a face like an angel and a body to match. But she hears stuff like that all the time, so I call her “stupid bitch” instead.
She’s got more $$$ than she knows what to do with, so she’s got no pressure to figure out like, a career, or anything, but she’s smart enough to make me laugh and she responds very positively to my teasing.
The quality of girls I attract improves in relation to my subscriber count online. Such is life. Amy messaged me in late February and since then I have been grooming opening her mind sexually over the phone.
There’s a lot of writing under that rock but I don’t know how to share it without breaking the flow of this story.
What I did to Amy last night nearly amounts to a rape. She wouldn’t tell me whether or not she “wanted it” but when I applied my knee to her crotch and choked her neck and nibbled on her nipples she became appropriately wet in response. All this sex I’ve had and the female body is still a complete mystery.
She wouldn’t tell me “no” but she also wouldn’t tell me “yes”… she just moaned and looked at me and said my name, and yeah I know that sounds like a green light, and I’m so hard I am struggling with concepts like “consent” entirely but the human in me could tell she didn’t really want it… she didn’t know what she wanted.
Her heart beat fast and her body contracted nervously but she told me that she was not nervous, she was okay, so I just kept going, we were bundled up in a sleeping bag on the bed ‘cause it was so cold, I flipped her onto her side and smacked her ass and attempted a smooth entry… she tightened up and contracted and said it hurt so I stopped.
I joke about this a lot but I don’t rape, in real life (sorry ladies). She breathed a sigh of relief and smiled so wide.
But I was high and needed release. So we kept edging like this for… hours… drifting in and out of consciousness, pulling each other back into this dance, I tried to insert again at some later point but she still felt un-ripe so I quit pushing the issue.
She kept saying “this is so crazy” and I said nothing ‘cause for me this is just a typical Tuesday night.
At maybe 7 AM I came up with this brilliant idea to cum between her thighs so that she could avoid pain I could move on with my day.
This happened and I drove her back to her dorm room building and drove far away from the college Campus because these are the types of situations I cannot explain to the police, if they saw me again. But on the blog it all makes perfect sense.
On here I have nothing left to hide.
Oh also. A few days ago I published a book. Here’s how it’s going:
We are so cooked if you are getting any traction outside of being a lolcow
Thanks, I’ve been meaning to mute you.