The Loser Jeff Stories

EDITORS NOTE: This story is the end(ing) to my story Girlfriend Follies - Beginnings (which I haven't written yet as of 09.16.2010), read this at your own risk. I'm doing this story a little different this time. I'm starting it at the end (pretty much the very end really) and then writting the beginning & middle, so the 2 will tell a full complete 180 degree story when all said and done. With that said, there will be little to no background information on who is who and what's going on, etc. I just had to write this up as soon as I could because it's just too crazy and unreal 4 times over.

I was sitting around jacking off or whatever it was that was I doing the other day when I get a text message from none other than...CrazyCarla! At first I thought, now why in Sam Hells name is she txting me? I thought that if I txt back, it could be dangerous for not only my mental health but for the sake of having my friends yell at me (which they still might after reading this). I also thought that it might be good material for a story (and it sure as fuck was). I decided to txt back.

Copied verbatim from my cell phone.

Her Txt: Hey Uhm. . Are you willing to come over sometime really soon..? Its important.

My Txt: Why? Give details. The phone works too ya know

Her Txt: Well Uhm okay.. Just sayin, its important. Would you rather me just call you? Or just text?

My Txt: I'd perfer you call.

And call she did, with some really crazy as fuck off the rocker news too, as you're about to read if you want to.

Her: Okay uhm, yeah, I'm pregnant and I'm keeping it.

Me: Uuuuhhh okay? When did you find this out?

Her: Sunday

Me: Okay well it's been a month to a month and a half nearly since we were together, so it's not mine.

Her: Actually it could be yours or DrunkDudes, I'm about a month pregnant and I slept with you one night and him the next.

Me: ...

I hope he liked the sloppy seconds.

Me (shaking head and putting face in palm): Great, so there's a chance it could be mine then.

Her: Yeah..

Her: It's what I get for being a slut.

Me: Wait, how could it be mine? We used condoms.

Her: No, we only used condoms 2 or 3 times, we didn't use them all the time.

I'm going to have to rebute that statement. I ALWAYS use a condom (except under very strict circumstances). Are you fucking kidding me Carla? I was a teenager in the 1990's and AIDS was at full force, thus it was drilled in my head to always wrap it up (plus I'm paranoid of STIs). I even told her this in a txt message during our relationship, so therefore every time I stuck it to her hard, I had a rubber on hands down.

Me: Are you sure you're not getting me mixed up with DrunkDude?

Her: No, because him and I didn't use condoms at all.

BINGO!

Me (playing along): So uhhh if you don't know whos it is, get a materinty test or paternity test, whatever it's called.

Her: I can't, it's bad for the baby. I won't know whos it is until it's born.

Me (with eyes as big as the fucking moon): Uuuuuhhh oookay.

Her: Yeah, so I'm going to the doctor next week to see how far along I am.

Me: Okay well I don't know what to say so I think I'm going to go and think about shit, let me know how that goes.

I hang up the phone in a kind of panic and call a few friends, they tell me not to worry about it (which I'm not). I then start thinking about the entire conversation, when we had sex last, and what all happened. Now, there is a chance that the child is mine, I won't say no to that because nature does work strangly, but here are the facts:

1. Her and I did use condoms every time we had sex, the kind with spermicide on them too.

2. I never came inside of her, with or without a condom on.

3. I came in an area on her that would NOT result in pregnancy.

4. We only had sex twice the night before she fucked DrunkDude, one of the times she swallowed, so no pregnancy there.

5. She didn't use condoms at all with him.

So with all that meantioned, if the kid is mine, then I have some super ultra special mutant sperm that the government needs (and every infertile man wishes they had) to pay me large amounts of money to get their hands on for metabolic science research and possible world re-awesoming.

Date Occured: Summer of 1996

Date Written: September 2010

This story is proof that I have an iron stomach capable of digesting anything that's food without getting sick, no matter how old or how raw it is.

When I was in middle school I met a guy named Bill, who was from up north and had just moved down south.  We instantly became good friends, always over at each others houses and what not.  After middle was over and we entered high school, we both started experimenting with pot.  One night I was over at Bill's hanging out with not shit to do but look at each other and that looses its fun after about 1.2 seconds.  So, we took a ride over to a guys place that he worked with to try and find some shit to get into...and we did!  Well, I did anyway.

We get to the guys place and there are more people there, we hang out for a awhile and then I decided that I either needed to pee or go somewhere and get something.  After I had returned I saw Bill's van in the driveway in the pitch black of night but found nobody at the house.  So I walked up to the side door, but before I could knock on it someone either shouted something at me or someone honked a horn to get my attention.  Either way I found everyone piled inside Bill's van.  I climb in and the place was smokey as hell and smelled like pure mary jane...looks like I got back at a good time.

I sit behind Bill who is in the drivers seat fried out of his mind laughing about something.  There are about 5 or 6 of us in the van, so the joint took a minute to circulate but finally comes around to me and I take a hit.  Now mind you that I had just started smoking pot and haven't really smoked that much, therefore I was a complete light weight.  2-3 hits later and I'm baked to a crisp.

Now everyone in the van is stoned out of their minds, except I'm not only stoned to hell and back but I am also hungry as a homeless person.  There is nothing to eat and I couldn't go inside and get something because the guys house we were at his parents were sleeping or fucking or something.  The munchies started getting worse and worse, so I start looking anywhere and everywhere for food.  I look down at my shoe and low and behold I see a McDonalds hamburger or chicken sandwich (I can't remember which) still in the wrapper.  I ask Bill if I can have it and if it's still good to eat.  He tells me yeah go ahead and eat it.  Now I didn't think about this at the time because I was super blazed and hungry, but why was there McDonald's food just laying on the floor of his van?

I open it and take a bit, tasted okay, so I took another bite.  While I'm doing this Bill and I think one or 2 others were watching me, then as I swallowed the first 2 bites utter laughter busts out.  I start asking what the fuck is so funny?  People kept laughing, so I asked a second time.  Again, more laughter graced my ear drums.  I decide to ignore them as we are all high as airplanes and take another bite.  I get half way through chewing it when Bill says "Dude, that has been sitting there for a week or 2 AND YOU ATE IT HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

At first I thought he was joking, but he wasn't, I had been suckered into eating a really old sandwich.  I really didn't care though, it tasted okay and I was hungry as hungry from the fucking pot that gave me the munchies so I ate it anyway, everyone was disgusted...except for me.  I was happy and full even if I was going to die the next day from some kind of funky food death virus.

However, the next day I felt fine.  I didn't puke, get sick, feel like ass, get a fever, nothing.  I was able to eat the week old sandwich and not get one repercussion from it. 

Date Occured: July, 2010

Date Written: August, 2010

This story takes place the night after my "An Eventful Night" story. Therefore, you need to read that story first so you know who everyone is, or just read this one and figure it out, whichever works for you.

I was waiting to get off work that evening so WeirdGuy and me could go hang out with these chicks that he was talking about at the restraunt bar. He sends me a txt message saying that if we go hang out at one of the chicks houses, we can't bring beer because her mom doesn't like it. I'm guessing pot is way out of the question then if no beer is allowed? What a buzz kill, I swear, parents are always trying to ruin the fun with their blasphemy.

A few txt messages later, we still can't figure out what to do or where to hang. This is my luck completely. I finally get out of work and head home, still not knowing what we are going to do or whatever, I decide to say fuck it and call it a night. Then my phone rings, it's WeirdGuy. I thought about not answering, but then I said what the hell?

I answer the phone and WeirdGuy tells me that he's with one of the girls he talked of (the other girl, which is that girls friend was out of town), and that him and her and 2 other guys are at the mexican restraunt and that I should come hang. Not wanting to sit a mexican restraunt on a Saturday night, I thought that maybe we should go do something else. However, before I could suggest whatever it was I was going to suggest we do, the girl he's with (he calls her his girlfriend but she's really not as you will find out why in a minute) grabs the phone and starts talking to me:

LyingBitch: Hey, you should come out with us!

Me: Uhm, why? So we can sit at a mexican restraunt all night and look at each other? No thanks, I want to talk to chicks.

LyingBitch: Well then let's goto the local bar. I can be your wingchick and get just about any girl to hookup with you, I've done it before.

Me: Okay, so you want to be my wingchick? Sounds killer, but where are you guys gonna be?

LyingBitch: I will wait outside for you.

Me: Yeah, like I really know what you look like haveing never met you and all.

She then explains to me what she's wearing and what she looks like, which didn't help much at all.

LyingBitch: Well here's my cellphone number, call me.

Me (trying to remember the number): Uhh okay.

LyingBitch: So we will see you in what 5 minutes?

Me: Eh yeah, something like that.

I hang up the phone in excitement, so much excitement that I txt my bestfriend and goodfriend with: "Oh shit! Jeff is going to the bar and has a wingchick!" Now mind you that I just got out a 2 month semi-serious relationship (read my story entitled Girlfriend Follies) and I learned a very valuable lesson from it: DON'T TAKE SHIT FROM FEMALES! Which I should have learned before now, but I have a learning disability.

25 minutes and 2 bowls later I arrive at the local bar feeling good and the place is packed out, I know this because I can't find one fucking parking spot, anywhere. I call WeirdGuy to find out where they are (inside or outside).

Me: Dude, this place is packed! I can't find parking.

WeirdGuy: Uhh just park beside my truck.

Me: Where's your truck?

WeirdGuy: It's a (insert truck make and model here) parked on the side.

Me: I don't see your truck, man this place has no parking at all.

WeirdGuy: I see plenty of parking.

Me: Uh I don't, this bar is booming it seems as there is a sea of fucking cars all over.

WeirdGuy: Dude, where are you?

Me: I'm at the bar, where LyingBitch told me to meet you people.

WeridGuy: Oh we are at the mexican restraunt.

Me (with dead silence for a second): Ooookay why are you over there when LyingBitch told me to meet you here?

WeirdGuy: Uhh we are having margaritas.

Me: Okay well finish those up and come over here, this place is booming hard dude.

Once again LyingBitch takes charge of his cellphone

LyingBitch: Hey, you should come over here.

Me: Uh no, you all should come over here, this is where everyone is at.

LyingBitch: Who's everyone?

Me (with a sarcastic tone and that look on face like "did you really ask me that you dumb bitch?"): Uhhh half of the city?

LyingBitch: Oh well, come over here.

Me: No, I'm already here you come here since this is where you said we would be meeting up.

LyingBitch: We are drinking though.

Me: So finish up and come over here.

LyingBitch: You come over here and then we will go back there.

Me: That's pointless, I'm already here and if we are going to end up here, why don't you just finish there and come here?

LyingBitch is now becoming DrunkenRagedLyingBitch (DRLB for short) due to the alcohol.

DRLB: Why are you being a pussy?

Me: Uhh well first off I'm not, I had a hard time finding a parking spot and I don't want to loose it, besides you just said we were gonna end up back here.

DRLB: Look, just come over here okay? Okay, see you soon.

Me: Once again, I am already fucking over here! What the fuck? You told me to meet you here!

DRLB: Don't yell at me!

Me: I'm not, that's just how I fucking talk, you'd know if I was yelling, trust me.

DRLB: You want me to be your wingchick and now you're not cooperrating, makes me not want to be your wingchick.

Me: Okay, in order for you to be my wingchick...YOU HAVE TO COME OVER HERE! This is where everyone is, AT THE BAR!

DRLB: DO NOT get on my badside! You do not want to get on my badside!

At this point it was like trying to reason with close minded homophobic christian, as I was getting nowhere. This bitch already has 2 strikes against her in my book, one for lying to me and one for threatening me. Her badside? HAHAHAHAHA yeah okay, it's my badside you want to worry about, bitch.

Me: Uhh yeah okay.

DRLB: So come over here already.

Me: You're not getting it, I want to talk to girls, not sit at a restraunt, I told you this.

DRLB: I'm a girl, come talk to me.

Me: You have a boyfriend, WeirdGuy.

DRLB (yelling in phone): HE IS NOT MY BOYFRIEND! AND IF YOU GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE I WILL EXPLAIN!

Me (frustrated to hell and back): Fine, yeah whatever.

DRLB: Okay, see you in 2 minutes then?

Me: Yeah eh something like that.

I hang up the phone and call my bestfriend (TheBestFriend) for advice. I explain the whole parking, bar, and restraunt story to him. He tells me to just go over there and talk to her and have fun and then come back to the bar. I decide to listen to him and go to the restraunt (which wasn't far from the bar thank God, gas is pricey).

I pull into the restraunt parking lot and see 3 other cars in the lot, this can't be good...at all. I walk in and before I could tell the employees what was going on, I hear my name. I look up and see none other than my bestfriends brother. I can't believe that I ran into him after just being on the phone with his brother not 20 minutes ago, small world. Somehow he knows WeirdGuy, who knows my co worker (TheCoWorker), but he doesn't know my coworker, odd. As I approach their table, I see a chick that looks like a fucking bird, (literally) who I am guessing is LyingBitch (turns out I was right 2.3 seconds later), jumps up and says "hey I'm LyingBitch, sorry about what I said on the phone, I'm drunk". Gee, I wish I could be a total tool to people and blame it on being drunk and get away with it...but only chicks can do that.

I sit down, still talking to TheBestFriendsBrother when DrunkenLyingBitch chimes in out of nowhere and says "Hey, you never called me." I casually hold up my middle finger in her direction, she flips me off back. Good to know the feeling of hate is mutual here.

TheBestfriendsBrother then introduces me to "BigBop" who kept asking me personal questions like where I worked and what my lastname was,..I didn't tell him. I then get asked if I want a drink. I wanted to reply with "Do bears shit in the woods? Is the sky blue? Am I loser?" but I didn't.

They hand me and over half used margarita. I was not amused or happy about this. If someone asks you if you want a drink, normally they get you a fresh one right? Not in this case, or my case for that matter as my luck struck again it seemed. I drink the "margarita" while talking to the various characters infront of me. I nearly finish the thing in minutes flat due to wanting to get a buzz and head to the bar to get a better buzz and talk to chicks. LyingBitch then turns to me and asks if she can talk to me outside, I tell her uh yeah sure whatever and head outside with her.

What followed next was one of the most fucked up converstaions in my entire life:

Her: Okay WierdGuy isn't my boyfriend, I'm just using him.

Me: Okay but wh...nevermind, it sounds like one huge cluster fuck I don't want to get involved in.

Her: Well you see I'm in love with 2 other guys, one is in the military and one lives out of state.

Me: Uhh oookay.

Her: Please don't tell WeirdGuy.

Me: Yeah sure okay.

Her (walking back inside): I love my other 2 men but especially my military man, I get to see him soon.

Me (not giving a shit at all): That's nice.

Her: Oh, I do have someone I can hook you up with though, she lives in Bessemer, I will have to call her though and check her status.

Me: Okay.

Check her head is more like it. Now if her friend is just as fucked in the head as she is, (as most girls from around here are) or more so then I want nothing to do with her. I've had my fair share of crazy chicks over the years (one just recently as of the time of this writting) and I don't need to come cross anymore. We sit back down at the table talk some more. I then notice that we are the only ones in the place aside from the employees. I then add 6+6 and come up with the conclusion that the place is in fact closed for the night, at 10pm on a Saturday no less...I still hate Birmingham.

Finally we are ready to go, but to my dismay we aren't going to the bar. We are all going home..

As it turns out BigBop had work at 11am, LyingBitch is 22 years old and has an 11pm curfew, WeirdGuy was LyingBitch's ride home, and BigBop was TheBestFriendsBrother's ride home. What a fucking buzz kill I swear, I'm all ready to goto the bar, socialize, get hammered, talk to chicks, and possibly get a phone number or 2 and these fucks are wussing out on me big time. So as it turns out, I went home (without talking to any other girl except DrunkBirdLookingLyingBitch which I wasn't really keen on keeping up a conversation with her anyway), jacked off and went to bed.

Jeff Goes Bowling

Date Occured: August 2010

Date Written: August 2010

While at work one Saturday afternoon, I get a call from Jay asking if I wanted to come over and find something to do. This sounded excellent, however I was indeed at work and couldn't party until I was able to leave. Some hours later (about 8pm that night), I get off work and head to the gas station and buy an 18 pack of beer before heading home. While at home I call Jay and tell him that I'm off work now and free to get into some mishaps. He tells me to wait 30-40 minutes as him and his wife (JaysWife) will be home then. This gives me time to drink a beer or 3 and smoke a bowl.

I get to Jay's place with my opened 18 pack of beer and a little tipsy. I drink more beer as we decide what we want to do as it's Saturday night and I have tomorrow off so I had partying on the brain. We sit a little longer and finally one of us (I think it was JaysWife), decides that we should go bowling. This sounds wonderful to me and I offer to pick up the tab, however I need a different shirt to wear. Instead of wasting precious beer drinking time and going back to my house for a shirt, Jay lends me one of his. I drink more beer and then we drive 30 minutes to the cheap bowling alley, by now I'm buzzed hard and ready to drink more. We walk in and to my amazement, this bowling alley as kind of a bar area attached to it. We goto the bar area first and I get a long island ice tea and a pitcher of beer.

We head out of the bar (with drinks in hand) and go get a lane. Now I must tell you, I'm not too good at bowling...when sober. As I drink my long island I pour myself a cup of beer. I bowl some, doing shitty of course, then drink more. I finish my long island and half the pitcher, and I'm pretty drunk at this point, but now I must pee. I tell Jay to bowl for me while nature is calling. I head to the bathroom and see some hot chicks walk by as I'm making a B-line to the toilet because I can't contain myself any longer. I then take a mental break inside my head:

"Jeff, you should go talk to those girls."

"No Jeff, you have to pee...bad, goto the bathroom first then talk to girls, this way you won't be doing the peepee dance infront of them making a complete moron out of yourself."

I snap back to reality and realize that my bladder isn't getting any bigger and decide that the best case scenario in this type of situation is to infact go pee. I do this, but not before I walk by one of the hot girls and yell "YOU'RE HOT!". She turns and looks at me, kinda smiles a little, then keeps walking.

In the bathroom I find some old guy trying to tell me that the soap they use in there isn't really bathroom soap that it's something else. It looked like a jar of jelly to me. I talk to the guy some more and bring up the topic I like talking about best...pot! He tells me that the pot back in the 60's or 70's was awesome. I asked him if it was better then or now, he said then. Which I can't believe because the shit going around now, some of it will put hair back on your chest. I finally decided to leave the bathroom, and when I do I see 4 cops outside in the hallway. One notices the shirt I'm wearing which says "Stoned to the Bone" on it with a skull smoking one. He turns to his buddies and says "hey, check out his shirt". One cop was like "cool", the others just kinda laughed. I told them that they were cool cops.

As I was walking back to my lane (and beer), I notice that this particular bowling establishment has a "ball room" type room (I call it a party room), located near the bathroom. I saw the door was open so I popped my head in and see hot chicks dancing...with dudes of course. Never the less, being as drunk as I was I hold up my thumb and go "YYEEAAAH!" then I proceed back to bowling. I have no idea what my score is as Jay has been bowling for me and I'm drunk. Jay and I finish the pitcher of beer and ask him if he wants another, he tells me okay and off I goto the bar. I come back with another pitcher of beer and a jack and coke for myself. I drink the jack and coke while downing the beer. I bowl some more and to my surprise I'm actually doing better, now that I'm near shithoused. I never would have thought that I could bowl so well while being piss ass drunk...amazing.

Right before the game was over (and the place closing for that matter), I notice some dude running with his arms up back to his lane like he'd just won the Special Olympics. I couldn't help but go inquire, because Madonna's Material Girl came over the speakers.

Me: Hey dude, you like Madonna?

SomeCat: HEY!!

Me: COOL!! She's so 1980's!

Me: Hey man, how old are you?

SomeCat: 18

Me (with shock in my eyes): Uhhh okay cool.

SomeCat: Well you have a good night.

Me (walkinging away): Uuhh you too.

I get back to my lane and it's my turn, I end up getting 2 gutter balls. BOLLOCKS! We finish the game, but I don't remember who won, I just know it wasn't me even though I was doing well for awhile. Jay and JaysWife go hand in shoes and go outside to the car to smoke (I think that's what happened). I finish my beer and go hand in my shoes, but as I'm leaving I notice a guy that works there playing around with a trashbag and trash can. I decided to ask him a very important question:

Me: Hey man, you look cool, do you smoke pot?

SomeDude: Uhm well maybe, it depends.

Me (showing tattoo): Dude, I'm cool I just wanted to know man.

SomeDude: Well I do, but not right now.

Me: Okay well, here's my number, the name's Stoney.

SomeDude: Stoney?

Me: Yeah man that's me!

SomeDude: Okay Stoney.

My phone then started ringing and it was Jay, but I was too far into this drunk conversation about pot to care...until I saw him coming towards me. I tell SomeDude that I must now depart as this guy walking rather fast towards me is my ride. By now I'm entirely SHITHOUSED (I'm talking the room spinning with 1 eye open, 2 was just too much). We get half way home when I start to feel that ever not so good feeling in your stomach you get after you've drank a shitfucks load of alcohol feeling. I roll down the window, hold my head out and just harf like I've never harfed before. There were 3 phases of it, phase one wasn't too bad (even though I hadn't had much to eat that day), phase 2 put me down, phase 3 overkilled me.

We get back to Jay's place and more puking occurs, first on the concrete by JaysWife's car, then in their kitchen trash can, then 30 minutes in their toilet. This shit was worse than when I drank Green Dragon before the Crawfish Boil. I was THAT drunk. I pass out (one time almost with head in the toilet, but then mustered the strength to get to the couch), and wake up around 10:40am and find a shoe missing as I'm trying to leave. I find it by the dog...shoe lace half chewn to hell.

I grab what's left of my beer and head out the door. On the drive home I felt like a fucking zombie...literally. I was still a little drunk, but not and and little hung over, but not. It was the strangest alcohol related feeling I've never had. I get home and get in bed, where I stayed the rest of the fucking day.