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26

Sep

ROOFIES RULE!

Ladies, I know most of you are opposed to the idea of getting roofied, but before you judge, you should stop and ask yourself: how do I know something is bad if I’ve never tried it before? I for one have tried roofies, and I can say they are amazing. This weekend was my first time doing them but I can say they really work. You get SO fucked up! 

Since none of my roomies wanted to go out, I had to be ridin’ solo at the bars, but that’s ok because people who go out with me just fade to the background anyway.

So tonight I was sitting at the bar in a regular chair not bar stool so I could be eye level with the bartenders boobs LOL its true and this Colombian guy comes up to me and asks if he can buy me a drink. At first I wasn’t sure if this was a trick since after Mexicans, Colombians are the race that likes murdering people the most. however, one quick look at the the black dental floss he had riding all up in the good 4 inches of ass crack he had exposed eased my worries. This guy was definitely YES HOMO, which means the only violence he’s ever experienced in his life was hearing that Rhianna got her face busted in. No way he could kill anyone. I accepted the drink and we started chatting. He told me his name was Juan Luis and how much I looked like Tom Cruise and I was like yeah thanks I get that a lot. We’re pretty much the same person except I’m not gay! He didn’t really speak much English but after I spoke the word “gay” he just smiled so big and nodded so I was reassured he knew what “not gay” meant.

I’ll be the first to admit I was getting pretty liquored up and having a good time with Juan Luis, he was very thoughtful and giving me compliments nonstop. After being at the bar for a couple of hours, I picked up the tab because even a gay guy should know how baller I am, and we left the bar and started walking through the parking lot. He must have had just one Flirtini over his limit because he was leaning on me a lot, and being the kind soul that I am I felt I should walk him to his car. Once he got behind the wheel, instead of driving away he opened the center consul and pulled out a bag filled about half way with little green pills.

“Wanna get fucked?” he asked. Try as I did to hold it in, I could help but let out a little giggle at how drunk he was; he couldn’t even ask “Do you want to get fucked up?” right. Luckily he didn’t notice because he just smiled really big again and nodded. Anyway, I’m not one to turn down a chance to prove how baller I am and how much I can party, so I got in the car and next thing I knew we were at his house. He had been driving all over the road, I was so fucking scared that we were going to crash and my dick would becoming permanently deformed from the injuries or i would become paralized from the waist down and not able to get an erection, so I got out of the car before he did and opened the door for him.

“Gracias, chico” he said. I was like you’re welcome,  but my name is Kevin, not Chico. Had to keep reminding myself of the language barrier. We entered his house and he immedietely started fixing the drinks. Juan Luis was an excellent bartender because after a few sips I was on the floor and I couldn’t even taste any of the alcohol. It seriously tasted just like straight Ginger Ale, but it had to be the strongest drink I’ve ever had because like I said, I could not even sit up. Juan Luis came over and got down on the floor with me and at that very moment I started to get the spins. The floor lurched up to the ceiling, so I darted my hand out to grab his bicep for balance. I apologized but he also didn’t mind that because he grabbed onto my hand with his and made me squeeze and massage his bicep. The next 30 minutes were really a blur for me. I mostly remember rolling around on the floor and being on my stomach a lot and feeling like I had to go number 2 and trying really hard to hold it in. I’m just really glad I didn’t get the spins and throw up or anything. I do remember at one point Juan Luis telling me that everything was okay, he had put some roofies in my drink to get me to relax a bit because he said, “I can tell this is your first time”.  I was like how in the hell did he know that I had never taken roofies before? Weird. It was actually cool that he didn’t tell me about the roofies before I took them; it reminded me of how the Beatles first tripped on acid without knowing they had been given acid. John Lennon’s face was the last thing I remember thinking about before I passed out. In the morning, I woke up in what I assumed was Juan Luis’ guest bedroom, which looks like it gets a lot of use. Juan Luis was already up and he spent a lot of time getting ready for the day in that guest bedroom, which I thought was a little strange but he is a gay Colombian man so I’m sure he is going to be different than me in some ways.  

So that was my experience with roofies. Totally crazy, can’t wait to try them again. And ladies, stop complaining about being roofied all the time, it doesn’t mean you’re about to be raped.  I’ve personally experienced roofies, and nothing bad happened to me. I was completley in control and except for the thirty minutes or so at the very end of the night when Juan Luis and I were on the floor, I remember everything. Infact, I think it’s kind of flattering if you are roofied. It’s kind of a compliment. All it means is that some guy thinks you’re hot and wants to bang you. 

  1. kevsez posted this