The Lost Chronicles

Once upon a time, this blog was very controversial. I know, I know! Difficult to believe here in this desolate, post-apocalyptic landscape in which The Chronicles now reside. But yes, it has caused fights between friends, breakups, rageful accusations from strangers, and was even banned by the company where I work. In turn, it also brought me fawning adoration from readers, got me an in for my current job, and led me to meet my delicious man.

During this tumultuous journey, I got into the bad habit of omitting stories that ROCKED because I had too many readers who would have caused drama about me posting stuff that involved them. However, times have changed, and none of those hosers read my happy blog anymore. The time has come, dear munchkins, to behold…

The Lost Chronicles

Let us begin with The Invitation.

It all started with an e-mail. An e-mail from a friend who enjoyed writing as well. She sent it to me under the pretext that she wanted me to read a short story that she had co-authored with her boyfriend. It started out generic enough…a couple and their friend named Florentina having drinks and chatting, when suddenly and without warning, it turned into effing Showtime. It was The Most Graphic Three-Way-Bang Story of All Time. Like I’m talkin’ the phrases, “buried to the hilt” and “vagina” were used and everything! I was way surprised to get something so bawdy from her, but I just kind of laughed about it and uncomfortably dropped the subject.

A couple weeks later, my pals and I all went out to some swanky bar at which the lusty literary duo made and appearance. With their friend. FLORENTINA. I mean, come on! Like there’s that many Florentinas in the area!! That’s when I began to suspect what was going on. I mean, I always think everybody is in love with me, so you’d think I would have caught onto this sooner, but holy shat! These folks were totally trying to dew me!

I carefully avoided them until my birthday party, where I partied SO hard that I gave the stripper a lap dance. They waited until I was so loaded that I was hanging onto nearby furniture so as to not topple over to ambush me. They were all looming over me, frothing at the mouth and stroking my arm, saying, you don't believe that there isn't a G-spot? You can watch him give me one. Why don’t you let us take you home? And I was all AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! And in slow motion, I turned and fled, leaving overturned barstools in my wake. Really, I saw no other option but to hurl myself into the safety of a group of friends whilst giggling uncontrollably.

Ahh, I’m so hawt. Everyone wants to hit this! But I ain't promiscuous, and if you was suspicious...all that shit is fictitious!