God Damn You Rick

Rick was the name of this guy who was cock-blocking me at this crappy party tonight to get to a chick I didn't really like but I wanted to see and possibly get a man on base. Not a home run, but just a man on base.

Her name's Jessica, and she's a film student at some small school around here.

I'm never going to see her again, and that sucks.

The thing is, I can talk to girls, but I can never close the deal. I can't get it.

Anyway, I need pussy. Need it. But I won't get it. Because Rick cock-blocked me. Nerdy rick wearing all black with a bad beard and bad Buddy Holly glasses, trying to crush me with a kung-fu grip. He failed.

When they suggested that they had to call Alex, I thought they meant in the club. I told Rick that he should go and call him, and me and Jessica would talk. Didn't happen. Then he said that they had to call him on a phone. So they left.

Which is why Rick had better beware the day I buy a baseball bat. All I'm saying is, police find him dead with multiple bludgeoning wounds and a note that says "Don't cockblock me," it wasn't me in any sense of the world and I'm completely innocence.

I need pussy.

I have an e-mail address, which I hope I can parlay into some base of some sort.

That is all.