FRIDAY NIGHT LASAGNA

(Alright you damn vultures! Here's your freaking post!)

Friday evening on my way home from work I receive a call from Matt of the E pursuasion (this may or may not matter later).

"Let's do something," he said as is his wont.

"Okay," I responded wittily. "What?"

"Dinner at my place?" he asked hopefully and the stars aligned and planets collided and it was decided BY THE GODS that there would be an O-R-G-Y of cheese and sause and noodle and veggies.

We ventured to the local Kroger to pick out way more squash than was necessary as well as an eggplant that, sadly, was not used for sexual favors.

Back at his place we began the arduous task of cutting all the freaking shit we bought. Okay. Okay. Let me rephrase. Matt:E and D.O. began the arduous task. I got to mix up the gooey, cheesey spread that I may or may not have smeared all over my body in a fit of orgasmic lust.

While it was going quite well, what with all the boys playing with sharp knives and the startling lack of blood, D.O. seemed to lack... form, shall we say? And as he cut his pepper, his wrist was held at such a painfully awkward angle that Matt and I were obliged, no COMPELLED, to point out just how big of an idiot D.O. looked. Specifically:

"You look like a gay guy with palsey." ~Matt:E

Others arrived and it was decided by Matt:E's smokin' hot Not-Girlfriend Kalie (because I spelled it wrong last time) that our little get together was seriously lacking some wine. So she bought some. And all us pansy ass light weights drank it all BEFORE gorging ourselves on lasagna.

That is the only reason I have for why the rest of this shit happened:

Me: "Did you say pants down?"

Matt:E: "No, I said hands down."

Me: "Oh. I guess I heard what I wanted to hear."

* * *

Jennith: "Show us the alien!"

Me: "Do you even know what it is?"

Jennith: "It sprouts out of his stomach?"

Me: "Oh sweetie. That's not his stomach."

* * *

It was somehow determined that D.O. was a god among men and could satisfy two women at the same time. Not merely because he is just THAT good, but because he's packing twice your typical standard regulation (he has two penises).

Me: "Would that make you a hermaphrodite?"

D.O. and Matt:E (in disgust): No! (Because seriously? My comment? Not the stupidest thing said folks)

Matt:E: It makes him more of a Double Dudite... Double Dude Delight!"

Me: "You could be in double mint gum commercials."

* * *

Now, you would think after the BRILLIANT conversations you just witnessed above that NO ONE WOULD EVER WANT TO LEAVE. That's what we thought, but D.O.? He had different plans and apparently, stupidly, thought he would go to bed early. Like at 11, which, L-A-M-E.

That's when someone threw out the idea that maybe, just maybe, D.O. would LOVE IT if we all piled on top of him.

And we did.

And then all hell broke loose.

Matt:E dove on first, slipping across D.O. like he was butter. Kalie, the Not-Girlfriend soon followed, pushing Matt:E further to make room. Only thing, D.O.'s bed doesn't reach the wall. There's about a foot gap between the bed and the wall, which Matt:E promptly fell down and Kalie on top of him.

She cried out for my assistance and was quickly shushed at Other Matt (or Matt:VD) slammed his door at us in anger. Heh. Oops. I giggled at her thoroughly, tickled pink at the sounds of Matt:E's groans of discomfort, before reaching an arm around her skinny waist (bitch) and hoisting her back up onto the bed.

Only to find her yelping in pain because her leg? It was stuck between the wall and the bed. Tipsy as she was, she continued her half-whispered pleas for help until I finally had the wherewithall to pull her leg free and clamor down the steps where we collapsed back on the couches in a fit of drunken giggles.

THE END.