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Every Friday night, all across the country, even in your own city, there are guys who have but one goal: getting laid. Enjoying their friends’ company, watching the game, having a good time – none of that matters to them. They haven’t had sex in weeks (months), and they will do anything to close the deal tonight. Below is a terrifying look into their thoughts as they attempt to mate with any female that allows them to.
7:30 p.m.
Whew, I’m crushing this workout. I know I said I’d start doing legs today, but when you’re about to get after it like I am tonight, you really only need to hit glamour muscles. Let me just break up my workout with some Tinder action to get my mind right.
*thirty right swipes*
Oh, a match? Ehh, I wouldn’t be proud of it, but whatever, I’ll send a message out there.
*typing*
“What are you getting into tonight?” Man, my game is on fire. These girls don’t even have a chance.
8:30 p.m.
Alright, I’m all showered and have the perfect amount of stubble. I look like Jason Statham in his prime, but less British. Speaking of British, should I try and pull off an accent at the bars tonight? Last week, Connor closed on a girl just by faking an Australian accent for an hour. “Blimey, you look dashing tonight.” Nailed it. I’ll keep that move in my back pocket if I need it.
Now it’s time to clean the shit out of my apartment. Can’t have a girl bailing just because my trashcan is filled with jerk-off tissues like last time. I’m even going to make my bed and put an earmarked book on it like I read for fun. No way a girl is going to see that and not immediately have biblical-sized flood in her panties.
10:00 p.m.
I picked up a bottle of Jameson, and I’m ready to rage. Of course, Scott is hosting the pregame in his downtown loft. What a douchebag. I mean yes, his rent is triple mine and he’s got a killer view, but why do I never get to host?
*knocking at the door*
Who is that? Scott has a bunch of hot neighbor girls joining us for the pregame? What a show off this guy is. Okay, time to get serious and lay on the charm. I’ll just play the silent mysterious type until I see what these girls are like.
“Scott this view is amazing, when are you just going to marry me so I can live here?”
Damn, girl, do you want some water? You sound super thirsty. Fuck Scott and his view, I’ll take it from here.
“If you think that’s nice, you should see the view I’ve got at my place. If you crane your head you can see some of the park down the street, and sometimes I just watch the kids, uh, I mean, the families play together. Y’know not because I like watching kids, just like, I think I’d be a great dad some day.”
Fucking nailed it. Scott’s telling me to calm down before I make them think I’m a pedophile? Fuck him, he just knows I’m about to swoop his girls. Let’s take some shots.
*aggressively pounds eight shots*
11:30 p.m.
Okay, so Scott is definitely winning considering he disappeared into his room with the neighbor girl and didn’t even make it to the club. Whatever, at least the boys and I are going to have a great time. I don’t know why they keep telling me to calm down, I feel great. Why is the bouncer giving me that look? Probably has to radio inside to let them know I’m about to steal everyone’s girls.
Okay, everyone calm down. I tripped on the sidewalk, which totally happens. There’s a huge bump right– well, I can’t find it now but it was totally there. Whatever, just gotta chat it up with the bouncer so he knows I’m cool.
“Howshh the night been man? Any cute females up in here?”
Hmm I guess this guy doesn’t speak English. Why are Rob and Kevin assuring the guy I’m fine? Of course, I’m fine. I’m an all-American pussy–slaying machine.
1:40 a.m.
Everyone was wrong to doubt me. I’m the fucking man. I took down a few double whiskey-gingers and feel fantastic. I’m not sure where Rob and Kev went off to, but I’m hitting the dance floor.
“Hey babe you want to dance?”
Okay, that girl ran off really fast. Let’s change up the game.
“Hey girl, you look like you need a man behind you.”
Oh, her friend told me she has a boyfriend? I get it.
“What about you then sweetheart? Wanna Danshh?”
That response seemed unnecessarily rude. Fine, there are plenty of other girls here; you’re not even that cute anyway.
*sloppily hits on seven more girls before switching to just grinding on random asses – a girl who’s BAC rivals that of Joe Namath on game day finally accepts his randomly flailing pelvis on her backside*
Fuck yes, this cutie wants me so bad, she’s shaking it for daddy. Those whiskey-gingers are finally setting in, maybe I should’ve eaten at some point tonight. Oh, damn, this girl just put her hands on the floor, that’s how you know she’s about to break it off for me.
2:00 a.m.
What happened? Why am I on the floor? Fuck it’s sticky down here. Who’s grabbing me? The bouncers are throwing me out? Why? I was about to close! No! Is that Rob and Kevin? Why are they laughing at me?! Fuck those guys, they probably told the bouncers to kick me out because they’re jealous of my game.
“Whatta fuck you asshholes?! Why’d I get thrownouut?”
In between bouts of laughter, they’re saying I was grinding up on an 180-pound Latina girl who, in their words, “bucked me off like an unbroken stallion and onto the floor.” Fuck those guys, that girl was sexy. They’re a bunch of liars. They’re telling me that it’s time for me to head home? Buncha judgmental dicks. I’ll head home, but I’m not going alone.
2:30 a.m.
*Mindlessly texts every girl he’s ever hooked up with “Hey beaatuiful, u up? ;)” before swiping mindlessly on Tinder while one-eyeing his phone*
Oh very nice, that match from earlier responded with, “Going out in downtown for my girlfriend’s birthday! What’s your plan handsome?” Fuck yes, I’m getting it in for sure. And she looks way hotter than I remembered. I must not have been paying attention at the gym. Let me just fire back with some Casanova shit: “Wee should met up, cum by my place at 113 Reed Street and I show u the view from my bedroom.” Perfect.
3:00 a.m.
*puts frozen pizza in oven and turn the heat dial to a random temperature*
Just gotta get some carbs in so I’ll have the energy to last all. night. long. Is that a real thing people do, or is that just something they say in songs? That’s not actually possible, right? Like when they say that, they really mean like twenty minutes, plus maybe again an hour later for twenty more minutes. That makes way mores sense. Usher is a liar. Let me just check my Tinder messages.
“Fkuck it, m drunk and exxboyfriend is an asshoile. Im getting a cab, see u ssoon ;)”
In the words of Kevin Hart, it’s about to go down. I’m just gonna lay down for a quick sec to rest myself for when she get’s here.
5:00 a.m.
What the fuck? What’s that noise? Why can’t I breathe? Is that my fire alarm?
*rushes into kitchen, see smoke billowing out of the stove, turns everything off and opens windows*
What the fuck? Who tried to make a pizza so late? Oh, Christ, my head. What time is it? Did I get laid? Fuck it, I’m going to bed. Future me can deal with this disaster.
7:15 a.m.
Ugh. My head.
*coughs for three straight minutes*
I think I have permanent damage from smoke inhalation. Or I need to stop bumming cigs when I drink. What the fuck happened last night? I gotta check my phone.
A text from Kevin asking if I wrangled any more heifers last night? Fuck him, he probably went home and jerked off. A text from Scott in the group chat. Is that a pic of the girl he banged yesterday? Fuuuck, I need to get an apartment with a view. Let me check Tinder real quick. Wait, nine messages? What the hell? Oh, shit, it’s coming back to me now. These aren’t good.
“Ok I’m five min away, u better be awake!”
I was not.
“I’m outside ur place, let meeee in”
I was passed out fully clothed.
“CALL ME”
Even if I was awake, I was far to intoxicated to operate a phone.
“Last chance, if u don’t let me in–”
Okay, I get it already. Aaaand I hate myself.
*phone dings*
Christ, what now? Oh it’s Scott again. “Just kicked that girl out of bed, y’all wanna get brunch?” God, I hate his stupid handsome face so much. I have to put my game face on – there are no days off in this league.
“Yeah same, she just wouldn’t leave lol. I’m down, Let’s go somewhere with cute girls.” .
Image via YouTube
Respond
Nick Arcadia
The opposite of a life coach. Email or DM me if you want some bad advice: nickarcadiapgp@gmail.com
@noampao
noamio
This definitely represents every guy returning to his hometown for thanksgiving
Will hundo P picked the Kroll stock photo because he kinda looks like bizzaro Arcadia
He’s ugly as shit compared to this heroic face I’ve been blessed with.
Arcadia’s draft stock is through the roof right now
I appreciate the stock photo of my likeness but I can confirm that I will most likely NOT be getting laid tonight. PGP
Whatever happened to you and Shiva shacking up after your first wife’s death?
Honest timeline of a girl who’s totally getting laid tonight.
3 pm – At work text to friend, “I think I want to for-real go out tonight.”
8 pm – Dinner and drinks with a girlfriend or two.
8:30 pm – Start texting guys to see what they’re “up to tonight.”
10 pm – “So I think Josh, Jon and Ben are going to meet us out.”
12:30 am – Girlfriend decides it’s time to Uber you both home.
12:45 am – Send “The Uber driver says a warm body is better than a cold shower.” text.
12:46 am – “What’s your address again?”
1:15 am – “The door’s open.”
Congrats on the (upcoming) sex.
This just isn’t even fair.
Eh, this is the trade off for the timeline of “a girl who totally got laid last night” being so batshit crazy.
I’d read the timeline of “a girl who totally got laid last night”. Spare no details.
I can probably make this happen!
This sounds very close to our old boy Gil Humplestead…
Dude I thought the same thing, I kept waiting for him to call his bed the bone sled.
Fuck, we’re already down. Why’d you have to twist the knife, man?
This has totally never been me *nervous sideways glance*
For Thanksgiving, I’m thankful that this isn’t me
Gil, is that you?