Tag Archives: stories

Pub Crawl Rome Saga: Final Chapter

11 Oct

This is the last and final piece of this story. I could drag it out keep you guys on my rope but I will not be so cruel.

So here we go…where was I? Oh leaving the second place.

So the guide blows his whistle and it is time to hustle off to the next bar. And by hustle I mean stumble slowly. I think I fell somewhere between bar  two and bar three. I will blame my shoes. Anyway, I need to backtrack, shoes are important here. A borrowed my shoes that night. I had an extra pair of flip-flops and to avoid having to have a conversation with her I allowed her to borrow them for the night. On the way to the third bar, she breaks the flip-flop yup, bitch broke it. So it is just a flip-flop and I would be going home soon so it was fine, I am not going to go all Bad Girls Club on her. But, she being her neurotic ridiculous self takes the shoe throws it in my face while we are walking and goes ” Your sucky flip-flop broke”. Jersey boy is standing next to me, and she should be happy that I don’t have much of a temper because I wanted to shove that shoe up her ass, I said ” excuse me, don’t throw things we are not 5, and secondly you probably broke it with all your spazztic jazz dancing.” She starts yelling at me, Jersey boy goes ” You should never lend her anything, what a bitch,”.

We get to the third place and I turn around to talk to R and I turn back around and see that A has taken Jersey Boy’s arm and is dragging him away from me. I found ou later that A told him that I told her to do that because I was trying to get with an australian. He is not so bright. Now, I do not care about these things usually, this is a guy at a bar not my future husband. However, this girl had gotten on my last nerve. I remained pretty civil the whole trip, and I was allowed to be mad.  R and I leave both of them.

Onto the next bar, the final bar, bar number four. R, one of the Australians, R’s guy she found and I all decide to hit the dance floor. Now, out of the corner of my eye I see A literally jump on Jersey Boy, JUMP. I was finding this whole situation annoying, but pretty hilarious. I was over it, I had a hot australian in front of me. There is a picture somewhere on the internet of R and I side by side doing some minimally questionable things on the dance floor. Whoops.

It is pretty early in the morning, or really late in the night depending on how you choose to look at it and it is time to go home.  The bar is closing and there is a curfew on the hostel if you come in past 4 then it closes and you cannot get in. Really they will not let you in ( stories to come about that hostel).

Now we are in bumble-fuck. Literally there is absolutely nothing around, no cars, no buildings, just the club and trees and empty roads. R and I are trying to read this little map they gave us on how to get back to the Spanish Steps, map was frustrating me, I threw it. We go to find A, and she is not listening which is funny because she usually made us go home at 8pm. She brushes us off and R and I decide we are going to go outside and try to get a cab or something. As we are waiting A comes out yelling YELLING that we need to get back to the hostel and R and I should stop playing around we are going to make her miss curfew and I just turn to her and go ” Are you fucking kidding me?” R is laughing. Now, I have really had enough.

Jersey Boy sees us outside, comes out to me and asks if I want to hang out more, or maybe another night. ” No thanks” I tell him. Because I pick them well my Aussie found us a cab. And by us I mean he R and I. Aussie and R get in the cab and I follow, ” Bu bye A you can go home with Jersey boy or yourself, see ya!” And I close the door. She stood there looking dumfounded and we laughed all the way home.

The Aussie pays for the cab for R and I and we get back with time to spare and R and I see no sign of A. I am told I called A a slut about 57 times and we stumbled into the hostel. No sign of A. R and I stay up talking a bit, no sign of A. We wake up the next morning to find her laying outside like a bum. She missed curfew and had to sleep outside, she deserved it. Did I mention that she not only paid for her own cab but Jersey Boy’s too? HA! We climb over her and head to breakfast.

Till Next Time,

Daffodil Sparkle


Four Letter Word Chronicles: Him

25 Jul

He was quite the man. Charming and terribly confident.  A man who can tell you he is crazy about you, and not worry how he sounds. He smelled amazing.

The little things, the simple things, made me want more. Making sure to kiss me goodnight, or pulling me in, holding me in the mornings. Was able to make a girl, a girl like me, with high fence,s fall.

The very nature of this post goes against everything I know. I taught myself how to be emotionless. How to make sure no one gets in. Color everything with sarcasm and attempted wit. But he broke some of that down, knowing exactly what I was doing, being okay with who I am, telling me it was okay, and carrying on  anyway. Allowed me to be difficult.

When someone understands your silence, and can decipher every glance, every smile, it is incredibly hard to hide.

I write this, because I vowed to put anything I wanted in here. To say the thoughts that come to mind, when I would otherwise hold back. Because I can. I need somewhere to release my deepest droplets and then close it any be done.

A temporary escape route.

He would tell me how I made him feel constantly, he explained everything, and he was beautifully honest. It was refreshing.


And when it comes to the point when I wonder what could’ve have been, some time , I will know we were cheated out of something.

Till Next Time,

Daffodil Sparkle

My First ….

16 Jul


Once upon a time I got busy with a guy and turned out later it was his first time at home-plate. Or crossing home-plate rather.

Let me backtrack.

Here was this guy who I had known for a while. A good friend. I am pretty good at reading people so part of me somehow knew that despite me watching him, and helping him find conquests, he never really sealed the deal. It was just a feeling I had. But after a while I decided that I was crazy. There is no reason that he would still have his v-card in tact.

I forgot about it all together.

One night, he was visiting and we went bar hopping, and then well .. one thing lead to another which lead to sex. And well without getting too much into detail… boy knew what he was doing. Almost flawlessly. It was a good time… and any thoughts I had of his sexual experience… or inexperience for that matter, were put to rest. There was just no way.

That weekend we spent a lot of time between the sheets.

And then a couple of days later… he told me he had a confession. Somehow I knew what was coming. He told me that despite having covered most of his bases he never got past that last one. The funny thing is, he is the only guy I know that despite having quite the sexual apetite, does not put getting laid at the forefront. Which is quite refreshing, I know many a girl who has thrown herself at him.

But upon hearing the words, I immediately felt pressure. Like somehow if I had known I could’ve brought out all my tricks. But then again, it probably would have felt weird. I would have felt awkward about it. I thanked him for not telling me. But still felt pressure. It was a very weird feeling. I still feel a little odd about it.

I am not quite sure why. But I guess I can put that notch in my bedpost, and write it in a journal or something. Cross it off a nonexistent bucket list.

Till Next Time,

Daffodil Sparkle

Between the Sheets: Don’t Date Boys who Stay up Late to Play with Toys

13 Jul

ImageIt is time for the section in this blog in which I put out sex stories. This one happens to be ridiculous and not so much a sex story as … well I will let you read it.

So I was seeing this guy, and talking to him for a while, but nothing ever went very far. First base was not even grazed with a cleat. One weekend I decided to visit him, he lived far-ish away. I mean I would be spending the weekend, so obviously there would be a little sumtin’ sumtin’ going down.

I went through the entire Friday wondering when this guy was gonna make a move. I was not sure how I felt about the whole shebang but I thought that would definitely help clarify some things. So I waited and waited. And waited, up until we arrived back at his apartment. We were in his bed listening to some music. And finally he made his move… and I wish he hadn’t.

He kissed like a fish. Not that I know what a fish kisses like, but I could only imagine and make a semi-educated guess. If I were in some weird Disney movie, and a fish were to kiss me, that is what it would feel like. Except there was no prince at the end of it. It was awful. Just awful.

I should have guessed considering he had more toys than I do shoes. But I thought that was cute, like a cool hobby. But I guess some of the time spent scrolling on ebay for batman figurines should’ve been spent on youporn.com…

Literally, everywhere you looked were toys. 

How do you keep from kissing a guy, who you are spending the weekend in his bed? I was facing a dilemma. I could tell him he was lacking any sort of skill, and that the rest of the weekend would be very platonic or just put up with it. I put up with it. He did not try again till later. When he asked if we were going to have sex. I almost laughed. I had to put my hand over my mouth, and pretend to cough. I just told him that we would not. No thank you. Nevagonnahappen. Goodnight.

Saturday went by with minimal touching, none on my part, a little on his part. And then Saturday night was party time. Thank god. The alcohol could not come fast enough. His friends came over and we headed out to some party.

Okay, it is at this point that I should mention something. Well two things. The first: He was drinking beer out of a Thor cup. I might have found that hilarious, and quirky if he was doing it to be so, but given the current situation, and the fact that he was wearing a backpack and looked like a 5-year-old on Christmas… I thought that I should be worried. But the next thing only made it worse… he peed in public. And in public I mean he stopped to pee on the street, with me there. See previous post about being belligerent… ya. Not cool dude!! That is not how one acts in front of a lady. His friend apologized for him. And it happened 3 times. 3.

Moving on. I make sure to drink enough at the party. But it would not be enough for what was coming. We get back to his place, and he is wasted so obviously he wants to get down and dirty. Uh-uh. I am trying not to hurt his feelings. I engage in a little make-out session with him, which is probably the worse thing I ever experienced. And ready to call it a night. When he gets naked. Completely naked ! I am like dude, what the fuck.  Smallest. Penis. I. Have. Ever. Seen. Which explained a lot.

He asked me, if he should grab a rubber… and this time I said … ” Fuck no, go take care of that yourself. You have hands.” … And he did.

Till Next Time,

Daffodil Sparkle

Between the Sheets: Friends

3 Jul

So what does happen when you sleep with a friend?

You laugh.

If there is no laughing. You aren’t friends.

I am a firm believer in everything I have just said. This is through experience. Recent experience.

Let’s call this friend LP, and that is how he will be referred to from now on.  Sometimes things happen unexpectedly. Or rather, I should say, that somewhere buried in the back of your mind, behind lengthy conversations, useless facts, and drunken nights, lies the drop of knowledge that something may occur.You know that feeling?  It is a coin toss.

I could say I was wasted. But that would be a lie. I was just… uhm… drunk enough.That time of  the night where you still have thoughts and worries but you don’t give a fuck. Well Watching a movie on the couch turned into a late night special  ( doesn’t it always)…

I was a tiny bit worried, I have a severe phobia of awkwardness. SEVERE. But, we laughed. Pretty much the whole time. Like little school girls, wait that was a creepy analogy under these circumstances. Forget I said that.

I am pretty sure  a “that’s what she said ” or two were involved… maybe more.  It was sort of like a scene from what I would categorize as an American Pie-esque film, only less ridiculous and more entertaining.

So LP and I continued to laugh the weekend away and remained in awe of the complete lack of awkwardness. And this is the way life should be.

Till next time,

Daffodil Sparkle

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