Life
by J. Camm on October 1, 2012

Let's see…how do I introduce this first story? I'll just say this: next time you hate someone (with some semblance of reasonable cause) and suddenly find yourself f*cking their girlfriend, do this.

It was the summer before my Freshman year of college. But months prior to this, I had gotten in a huge fight with my best friend after he ended up totaling my car and refusing to pay a goddamn dollar. We’ll call him “Jake”.  The situation was just a huge mess that involved court dates, threats from lawyers, heated exchanges between our parents, etc. Basically, emotions were still running high and I wasn’t ready to just “move on” and let him walk.

So one night, word gets out around town that I’m having people over. Of course, I’m receiving all sorts of shit from randos trying to casually invite themselves over. But there was one text in particular that struck my attention. It was Jake’s girlfriend, we’ll call her Morgan, and she was trying to come kick it at my place.

Fully aware that this may be a trap, I did some quick creeping on Facebook. Surely enough, as of just a couple of days prior, Morgan is now his ex-girlfriend. As a side note, this girl was honestly one of my very close friends until the bitch sided with Jake when he refused to pay the damages to my car. However, knowing that this may be a golden opportunity for some heart throbbing revenge, I told her to come on over.

Once she arrived, it probably took no longer than 2 minutes before I realized that I was called in on some Dr. Phil shit. She’s talking about how much she hates Jake, why she hates Jake, and how she’s “totally over” Jake. But unlike Dr. Phil would do during all of this, I was going shot for shot with Morgan, all of while cheering to her dumbing f*cking quotes like, “single, ready to mingle”. After roughing out about 30 minutes of this, I suggest to her that we get out of my crowded basement and go upstairs to talk. She gives me one of those “are you thinking what I’m thinking” smiles and agrees.

Once upstairs, Morgan informs me that she’s always had a “crush” on me. True or not, I took this as an obvious green light and immediately started to go at it with her. As we got further in foreplay, she paused, pulled away, and uttered the words “please don’t tell Jake”. That’s when it dawned on me. This isn’t so much of a revenge f*ck, but more of a ‘getting it in before I get back with him’ f*ck. Knowing that Morgan will just deny till she dies, I came to the conclusion that I needed visual evidence. It was just a matter of how.

This took place in 08’. For those of you that don’t remember, somehow the iPhone was pretty much the only f*cking phone at the time that wasn’t able to take videos. I even thought about using my Macbook webcam until I remembered the very detectable green light at top. At this point, there was pretty much only one way to do this. Get her from behind and do it doggystyle, while quickly snapping a few phone shots while I banged her. Which is exactly what I did. I kept enough light on in the room so that I wouldn’t have to use flash, and kept my phone next to me the entire time during sex to make it an easy reach. Of course, the iPhone was also not able to send pictures via text message at the time, which led me to an even ballsier maneuver. I sent 3 of the pics to my e-mail, printed them, put them in an envelope with a fake return address to make it seem more legit, and then sent them to my old buddy Jake.

After doing so, I Googled the police blotter that stated Jake’s arrest for weed possession and theft that he was charged with just a year before, printed it, and sent it in an envelope with a fake return address to Morgan’s parents. Needless to say, Jake somehow found out that I was the one who took and sent the pics and showed up weeks later at my doorstep drunk with a baseball bat. As for Morgan, her parents obviously found out about Jake’s arrest record and demanded that she never see him again. She also knew I was responsible for that. Jake and Morgan never really got back together after that and I haven’t spoken to either of them since. Payback’s a bitch.

This next story is more about the journey than it is the sex. It's also about eye patches, gun violence and a Toyota Prius…

So the night starts just like any typical Friday night for me and my bro, let’s call him ‘Roach’; with us hitting up the local house party. The place that we go usually tends to gather a pretty big turnout, but this night it is all but dead. We get there and it is ALL dudes. We contemplate leaving but figure screw it, may as well get a few drinks in first.

Fast-forward two hours…

At this point, I am already getting a good drunk on and people finally start showing up, so we stay. Like any party it tends to be mostly guys and a few girls. Unfortunately, most of the girls that are showing up are either already with a guy or sixes, at best. So, in my typical behavior, I just start being an asshole to everyone. It starts with me going around to everyone and carding them. If they weren’t 21 (guys only) they promptly got grabbed by the arm and led to the door. About twenty minutes of this and I switch to hitting on every girl I see. Most blow me off or just walk away, but I have my pool of about three that are digging it. Of these three we had a high four, a five and a half and a good seven or eight (minus a point when you’re sober).

I move on from them for a moment to usher a few more guys out and see a guy with an eye patch on. So I walk up to this guy, poke him in the patch and say “poke”. ‘Patches’ doesn’t like this, so he promptly pushes me and ends up getting my spit right in his good eye. The house owner comes over, kicks ‘Patches’ out and starts partying again. I go back to focusing on two of the three girls that had my attention as the third (the hottest, unfortunately) left with another bro. Obviously, I start going after the next best thing; let’s call her ‘Jane’.

A few minutes later ‘Patches’ and a few of his friends are causing problems outside. The next thing I know there are guns being pulled and clicked back. Me and ‘Roach’ just look at each other, go outside, and see what the hell is happening. Apparently some of the party goers pulled guns on ‘Patches’ and a few of his friends and told them to leave the property. Being the drunk mess that I was by this time I feel it would be smart to fight. So ‘Roach’ and I start walking down this big hill to kick this guy’s ass, during which time I rip my shirt off. We get to the bottom and the next thing you know we are surrounded by ‘Patches’ and five of his friends. So we do what any smart, drunk bros would do; hit one of them as hard as we can and run.

On the way back up this monstrous hill I end up taking the wrong path, which leads me about fifty feet away from my bro and we are separated by full brush and a barbed wire fence. There’s no way I am going back down with the expectation of getting my ass kicked by six guys. So, with no shirt, I hop the barbed wire and lay in the bushes. After a few minutes of lying there I now get to head back up to the party; with no shirt, smelling like hell, now ripped pants, and bloody all over my arms and stomach from this fence. Which brings us back to the girls… I walk back in, party still in full force with everyone staring at me. I go to find my prospects and it ends up while I was out ‘Jane’ meets a new guy and they are already making out. There is no way in hell I am going to bag a four; no matter how sh*tty my night already was.

Being that I rarely give a f*ck I decide to do the next best thing – Sleep. I wake up for some reason at about four-thirty and everyone is gone other than ‘Jane’, the guy she’s with, ‘Roach’, the girl he ended up hooking up with all over the house (that’s another story) and myself. So I sit up, pop a beer, tell Jane to come sit next to me, make-out with her (because f*ck this other kid), and start checking for my phone and realize “Oh f*ck! I must have dropped it in the bushes”. I tell ‘Jane’ to call my phone for me just in case it is in the couch… it’s not. So I ask her to walk back down the hill with me and call it so I can find that sh*t (with no luck). She does, and about halfway down the hill I stop her and start making out with her again. I start to hear the typical story “Oh I like you but you won’t call me in the morning.. blah, blah, blah” and convince her, like a boss, that of course I will, “You’re really special to me”.  We get back to where the rest of the cars are parked and tell her to sit in the back seat of my Prius (yes, I know. Give me a break) with me. She immediately hops in the back and lays down with no extra work at all. We start going at it and at after about twenty minutes ‘Roach’ and his story walk up, he opens the door, f*cks everything up and ends my hook up. I end up finding my phone in my center console, never talked to this girl again and started my weekend with a great story.

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J. Camm

About J. Camm...

J. Camm is the Managing Editor of BroBible. He is a graduate of the University of Miami thanks mostly in part to a world-class short-term memory. When not writing drivel on the Internet, J.Camm enjoys golf and the inexplicable satisfaction that comes with forgetting a person's name the exact instant he meets them.