#3 - Comforter Girl

Tale #3 - Comforter Girl

October 23th, 2009 - Age 18

     This tale is one of my finest instances of bro, and had become a staple for my bro-cred during my freshman year at college. 2 years later and it still comes up. You are probably asking yourself, "Brosner, what the hell could be so god damn awesome that you provide such a dramatic intro?", and I can sum that question up in two words, "Comforter Girl". I'll let Broking Sheen sum this one up, "I have to tell them that last night was a shameful train wreck filled with blind cuddly puppies."

     8:30 p.m. - Snowman and I have both finished our classes, feasted on some shit cafeteria food, and had begun pounding back natty light for the past hour. All the while, Beaner is in a combination of awe and shock at our display of drinking, just as when you first saw R Kelly lubricating women.

     9:45 p.m. - At this point we have been drinking for the past 3 hours and had no destination until Snowman gets the sacred text, "BYOB 10pm my place". What's "my place" you ask, the same god damn place we spent our first night of college, rage as fuck.

     10:00 p.m. - Snowman and I embark on our epic quest to slam brew, slay muff, and be general raging assholes. The walk was filled with yelling, throwing, and crashing into things, just like Tiger Woods's marriage.

The following timeline is not exact due to the shit-housed status you will come to read, but

a good assumption of when the acts transpired, and a faithful retelling I've collected from most of the attendees: 

     10:30 p.m. - We arrive, and crash the damn door down as if Rosie O' Donnell was coming for us. Immediately we garner unwanted looks, but like any bro knows, you don't give a flying fuck. We commence a beeline for the fridge and find a god damn haven of brew, it was as if an Amsterdam pub stocked up in this apartments coolbox: Miller Light, Bud Light, Natty Light, Natty Ice, Yuengling, Blue Moon, ShockTop, Landshark Lager, and a bunch of other shit including the drink of the bro-hater: Heineken.

     10:35p.m. - We proceed throughout the standard bro-creed that is the run through of every bros party entrance. Met the people through ways other then talking, swiped brew, beer pong. We move over to the table that we once ran 17-0, and witness a sorry display in front of us. Most people and I say MOST people would let these fucks finish, but no, Snowman and I demanded they finish in three shots or get the fuck off the table.

     10:37 p.m. - We kicked them off, drank both teams remaining beer, and began yelling at the people in the party that we demand victims. A pair of bro-haters roll up opposite and began lining their cups up in the 6 cup formation. Snowman without hesitation calls them "Fucking Pussy Fucks" for lining up 6 instead of our 10 cup standard. They have a look of worry but proceed to line up 10, confessing they have never played 10 cup. Snowman and I exchange looks and line up eye to eye, and you best fucking believe we banked that shit. After this game, we went out back smoked a bowl and returned to the table.

         

     11:30 p.m. -We have moved into deadly range of drunk as we had run 11 games in a row and were an all time 28-0 in this apartment. However the next team that lined up was a different animal from the little bro-hater shits we were previously playing, we were up against another group of bros, and not just any bros, life-long bros from the University of Alabama. These guys were solid, not missing an easy shot, and having correct re-rack strategy. Being hammered, and stoned, we had a problem on our hands.

   
     11:50 p.m. - 28-1, and 3 shots of Johnny Walker Black later, I was a somewhat demoralized bro. However instead of being a pissed asshole, I decided to turn it on and start scoping the scene for random slam piece sluts. Snowman within five minutes of leaving the table had already snagged a slam piece and had left the apartment and was heading toward the train station to catch a midnight pound town express.

     12:00 p.m. - I sit down at the Ring of Fire table prepared to hit a new low, and by that I mean, time to blackout and began hitting on the fat chick next to me. Fortunately for me, the chick next to me wasn't fat, but skinny, but don't get me wrong she was no gem.

     12:25 p.m. - At this point I'm over 20 drinks since 6 PM and have hit "Brosner drunk". The chick next to me is into me, and I'm buying all the stock tonight, stock in what? Stock in the best damn train line known to man AKA the Poundtown Express.

   
     12:45-1:20 a.m. - I've finished my game, the party is building, but I'm dropping faster then Bill Clinton's pants. I snag the slam piece that was sitting next to me, give her a bullshit excuse to leave so her friends don't follow, and head out. On the stumbling walk back a few typical things went down: Hooking up, sitting down and hooking up, unhooking her bra, fingerblasting her, and her grabbing my package all the way back to my room, in a way that everyone could see, it was a high in my memory of broments. I front a text to Snowman that I'm heading up with a slam piece, and he better leave the room or he will see more of the conductor then he ever wishes.

     1:25-1:30 a.m. - We arrive at the elevator, and at this point the slut is giving me a handjob in front of the elevator (hand down my pants, it was rather uncomfortable, but I'm a bro I don't give a fuck). The elevator opens, and sure enough it's Snowman with his slam piece, both looking haggard from hopping off the expressway. He sees my "situation" going on, and as he walks out of the elevator with his slam piece we exchange a broment and commence an epic brofist.

     1:35- 4:15 a.m. - Before I even get into my room (which smelled of sex), my pants were off, her top was missing and I was unbuttoning her pants. I don't even want to know how this looked as we were both slammed, and I was also dealing with being blazed. Now I give this slam piece one thing, she loved to give dome, and I mean LOVED to give dome. She went to town for 20 minutes allowing me to just chill, the only way it could have been better was if I had a sandwhich and was owning bitches in COD. I eventually stop her, and proceed to go to fucking Poundtown USA, and I'm the Mayor.

     4:15- 5:00 a.m. - So far pretty standard for a bro at this point, however this is where the dynamite goes boom. I start to feel something moist by my thighs, and I mean like the fucking coast of Japan moist. I flip the lights on and I'm in shock. A puddle of blood about 8' x 8' is built up on my comforter, and as I look around, her vag is covered in blood, my fingers are covered in blood, my dick is covered in blood, I run to the mirror and I have blood trails around my mouth (don't judge). There is literally blood everywhere, legs, chest, her stomach, and to top it off a faint bloody handprint on the white wall, it looked like a scene out of a shitty slasher film by Robert Rodriguez. I was a deer in the headlights, no words could sum up this experience, I just stood there ass naked covered in blood looking at the scene. She immediately started freaking out, and began to formulate a worse apology then Kermit Washington. I informed her I would take a shower and when I'm out she better be gone, and take the damn comforter with her and wash that shit.


     5:15- 5:30 a.m. - Snowman comes back up informing me of his adventure, and he takes one look at my bed, the wall, the sink, my rug, the bloody condom (which was only used for the first hour), and he walks out the room without saying a word. I dry off, and clean myself better then I ever will in my life, and proceed to clean some of the blood off the wall and remove the evidence from the room. Snowman comes back and I told him the story of how I got my "Red Wings" and "Dracula" medals. He tells me about his slam piece and it turns out the girls were roommates so while I was taking my slut to poundtown he was taking her roommate to the same destination.


     5:50- 6:00 a.m. - We crack open a celebratory Natty and attempt to beat the sun to sleep, but alas it was not to be. Comforter Girl had returned with "the Comforter", and didn't just knock, but pounded the shit out of my door. Snowman and I had blacked out, but the rest of my floor had not. Beaner opens the door to a haggard looking slut with running mascara, dried blood on her legs, and a comforter in her arms. But it wasn't just Beaner that opened a door, NO, the entire side of my floor, RA included opened their doors to witness this debacle. Beaner later informed me she wouldn't give my comforter to anyone but me, and when I wasn't there she full sprinted back onto the elevator.


     The Next Day - I got my comforter back, but was pressed with more questions then Charlie Sheen after banging a seven gram rock, which is bro as shit. Everybody on the floor wanted to hear about it, and so they did. She is known as Comforter Girl and is still referred by that to this day. It solidified me as Broseidon Lord of the Brocean of my entire Dorm, it spread like Herpes in Vegas.

     It was on the 23rd of October 2009, that this shitshow transpired, and it turned out she was on her period. Since then I have attained my "Red Wings" on one other occasion (not counting virgins). For those bros out there wondering, I do still use that comforter, and yes a slight stain is there, reminding me every night before I go to sleep.

     A further look back reminds me of a night that changed it all for me. This was my first fuck that resulted in such a dramatic ending that It had become legend. It's been over a month since the last post, but the reason being that I needed to sit down and do this justice. There is really 2 tales worth of content to tell, maybe that will come out later.

 

And as I sit here looking at the same comforter as in the story, 2 years after the fact, I laugh. Not because of the blood stain, but rather the dried vaginal fluid from last Saturday night, but unlike blood I don't really mind, remember take BroKing Sheen's advice, "Boom, crush. Night, losers. Winning, duh." Bros are the Shit.