Light and hearty observations from a fat and ugly guy. Home of hackneyed drivel and ersatz-existentialist effluence. Choleric biliousness a specialty, since 1958.

Nigels' date, last night

One of my little quirks is that I'm not very revealing about my love life. But I'm girding my loins here, and ask you now to sit back, relax, and let me regale you with a tale from last night's debauched near-love fest, which took place at chez Nigel. A place I humbly call "The Cock Castle."

I met her on a Monday, and my heart stood still. Da do ron, ron, ron, da doo ron ron. Just kidding. No, really, I met her at the local Kroger this past Monday. I'm buying jarred pigs feet; she's in the pharmacy section, staring at the boxes of feminine hygiene products. So me being el rico suave, I sidle up to Miss Girl Of My Dreams and say, sotto voice, "So, having that not so fresh feeling, are we?" Then came the witty part: "How about you spend a 'Summers Eve' with me, baby?" I stretched out the "baby" to sound like Barry White, but while he was still alive (he hasn't been making much noise lately, ya see).

This is one of my standard opening gambits when I see a chickadee, a sweet little petunia to my taste and liking, and more often than not I get slapped. 'Tis a mystery. But this time, she laughed, looked me up and down, and said, "So--you want a date?"

Slackjawed at my success, I immediately revealed all my personal information to her, including my vital stats, address, bank account and Social Security numbers. We agreed she'd come to the house last night for food, fun, and frolic, and hey presto nonny nio, there she was bright and on time at 8pm.

I took in her perfection while she stood on the stoop. Short and chubby, with that young Bea Arthur look I love so much, she had dark hair, blue streaks and purple highlights, and was wearing a track suit and some kind of boots. Army boots? Special Forces? I couldn't tell. She had tattoos and was smoking an unfiltered Camel when I opened the door. My kinda gal, lemme tell you!!

We ate, we drank, we laughed, we cried, we ran the gamut of human emotions. I fired up the video games and we had a rousing game of Pong. Then, we played Twister. I'd set the mood early by thoughtfully programming a cool mix tape containing all my favorite seduction songs from all the hep artists who specialize in la atmosphere romantica. Captain & Tennille. The Osmond Brothers. Jerry Vale. Engelbert Humperdink. You get the idea. That cassette sounded great and along with the incense and candles, your humble Nigel couldn't help but think: SCORE! I'M GONNA FINALLY GET SOME! YES! And no shit, now, little Percy in my pants was stirring, I don't mind telling you, with all the anticipation of the marvelousness to come.

The rest of the night will remain mostly private. I can tell you that at one point I was explaining to her that I was a "grow-er, not a show-er" and there was much discussion of the efficacy of Viagra usage. Still and all, a wonderful experience that I hope to repeat.

AND--topping off the evening festivities, she gave me a discount! It all only cost me $300, which is a significant reduction off the standard ho' rack rate. So, on a scale of 1--10, I give my night a 7.

posted by Nigel St.John Regina Smegmatica Howle-Raines @ 7:30 AM