I was in bed the other night, struggling to keep my eyes open when my phone started ringing; that’s never a good sign, I am a text person. I looked at the phone and saw Hope’s name, then notice it was only 11 o’clock; I knew she had a date with her......I’m going to call him her boyfriend because it’s easier than trying to explain their actual relationship, so I was little worried why she was calling.
When I picked up all I could hear is her crying, knowing I had no hope of understanding a word of it over the phone I asked her if she was home, I assumed she said yes (I really couldn’t understand a word she was saying) so I told her I’d be right over. Luckily she lives pretty close so I put on my dressing grown and pink fluffy slipper boots and walked around.
When I got there she was face down on the coach still crying, I sat on the edge of the couch and she didn’t react to me being there. I’ve said this many times but this is my friendship specialty so I know from experience that's a bad sign, normally people sit up, hug you and make your shoulder all wet. Luckily I have a trick to fix this, so I walked into her kitchen and took a bottle of wine (if you can call Lambrini wine) out of the fridge, sat down on the floor next to the couch, opened the bottle and offered it to her (this isn’t the time for glasses). She sat up and took the bottle from me.
After most of the bottle was gone, and most the tears stopped I asked her what happened. She down the rest of the bottle, got up and got another one, came back and told me the story. Her and Platypus (he’s Australian and a mammal so why not) had gone out and after dinner they went for a drive, they parked somewhere quiet and one thing led to another and they didn’t have sex but a.....hmmm...how to put it....hmmmm......a DNA handshake happened.
When all that was finished they were talking and he casually mentioned he was tired because the night before he had a date and that women didn’t leave his place until he left to pick up Hope. I’m not sure how but Hope kept her cool and told Platypus to drive her home. Once she got in she lost it and called me.
I then took the wine from her and had some myself, because sober isn’t the answer to that problem. We processed to get trashed and talk shit about Platypus. I then asked her how she managed not to kick him in the balls, after hearing that. She said she was raised that there is never a valid reason to kick a man in his privates. I looked her in the eyes and said “honey, that's bullshit. And a guy being a dick to you while there are still remnants of his cum on your person is just ONE of the many valid reasons to kick a guy in his junk”. We then continued to drink and crack jokes at Platypus’s expense until the wee hours of the morning, when she fell asleep and I walked home getting many strange looks for people walking their dogs.
So I have to ask; what other valid reasons can you think of to kick a man in his junk? Let me hear them in the comment box below. And as always stay and play safe.
The Honest Bitch