D.C. Folley — What NOT To Do While Sarging

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**Reposted from the first Lair, original date: 12/24/03

Okay, now I remember why I hate D.C.  Its not just the fact that I don’t have a car, or the fact that my parents plan my days for me like I’m a fuckin’ first grader, rather, it’s that it is very hard to sarge here.

D.C. has some of the worst traffic in the world, I swear to god.  I get to places FASTER in LA, and the traffic there is terrible too.  But at least we got 5 LANES of terrible traffic as opposed to 2 or often times 1, in D.C.’s case.  I tell you, I must be spoiled, because the quality of women in this town isn’t exactly what I’d call “prime.”  Of course, I am used to LA quality chicks, which are usually the best and hottest from all over the world.  But even I expected better women in D.C.  There was a post on the D.C. list a while back discussing whether there were any pretty women in this town, and I gotta say, I’m inclined to say NO! (If there are good ones here, they must be hiding).  Now I see why ol’ Bill went for Monica.  On the D.C. scale, that bitch is a fuckin’ 10.

So I wake up at 3:00 in the fuckin’ afternoon out here.  Keep in mind, my schedule is still on LA time, which is 3 hours early, so it’d be a ripe old noon in my home town.  However, I wanted to go out Christmas shopping today, so it was necessary to wake up early and beat the crowd.  I ask my dad to wake me up so I can get ready and have enough time to shop.  Of course, my dad’s idea of waking people up is flipping the light switch on and off.  He tried to wake me up twice with this tactic, however MY EYES WERE FUCKING SHUT! So of course, I was oblivious to the wake-up call.

Anyway, I get up and get ready to go out, so by the time I’m set, its time to go to dinner.  My family has a tradition about going out to eat on the 23rd of every December, so we go to a Steakhouse.  While there, the ONLY woman other than my mother is some warpig waitress that the drunken Mexican landscapers that descended upon this establishment are going after like she’s the only woman they’ve seen since jumping out of the van.  Of course, she’s loving it, but I’m forced to sit and talk to my family for lack of better targets (I’m still trying to come up with a decent system for restaurant sarging.  If anyone has any good tactics, please post them here).

After dinner, me and my brothers go out to the Pentagon City Mall to do our typical last minute shopping.  While there, we spilt up and go our separate ways, which is great because I finally get the chance to do some sarging.  However, its not meant to be.

About 80% of the women I run into are either fat, black, or a combination of the two.  Now, I have nothing against black chicks, but I just don’t go for them.  Same with fat chicks.  The women I do find that are worth sarging are of an average age of 15.  FIFTEEN!!!!  I feel like the biggest fucking perv in the world after I open a girl and her mother comes up to remind her that she can’t choose too many presents because she’s getting a car for her 16th birthday.

So I go about my shopping feeling like a dirty old man at the ripe ol’ age of 25.  It reminds me of why I prefer bars and clubs, at least there you know you’re in the ballpark.  And I start thinking about what I’d do if I WAS successful and picking a girl up.  My little brother drove me here.  I’m staying at my parent’s house.  I have no money.  The whole situation just does not bode well.

So I spend about $300 on gifts and go home pissed that its another night of my vacation wasted.  I was also informed that we’re visiting my grandparents for three days after Christmas, and even though it will be nice to see them, I am screaming on the inside because of the simple fact I am in LIMBO LAND!  Sure, there’s not stress or worries, but there is also no fun either.  Ugg!

I better get some good gifts this year, or I might end up killing somebody.

Thundercat

Thundercat’s Weekend Sucks the Nutty

**Reposted from the first Lair, original date: 12/22/03

Okay, so I’m home for the holidays, spending my time with my parents and two younger brothers.  All I can say is that this sucks.  Yes, I love my family, but I live in LA and they all live in DC, so they have their friends and hang-outs and whatnot, and in the meantime, I’m stuck at home holding my dick.  I don’t even have my own car.  Bummers.

So what did old Thundercat do this weekend?  Answer:  Nothing.  I slept, ate some home-cooked meals, and watched a lot of Lord of the Rings (Yes, I went back to the theater to see Return of the King again, it still rocked.  I spent the rest of the time watching the other two mega-super-special edition DVDs on my dad’s 36″ HD television.  Who needs sex with a set-up like that?  Not my dad, I guess.  Ewww).

I’m hoping to hook-up with some of the DC bro’s that are out here so I have the opportunity to dust off some of these PUA skills I’ve spent the last couple years developing.  I’ve tried contacting a few, but they aren’t exactly the “friendliest” bunch of guys, at least when it comes to returning emails.  Maybe if I lied and said I was TD, they’d start sucking my dick, lol.  (no offense, fellas =)

Also, with the terror alerts, things around here are a bit tense.  Maybe things will work out and I’ll find some girls who aren’t afraid of being anthraxed or something.  I should start hanging out with my youngest brother some more.  He’s one of those jocks with the brain the size of a pea who all the girls seem to love.  It might be a bit odd, hitting on chicks his age, but who gives a shit?  I’m horny NOW!

Will update as much as I can.  Things are slow right now.  I plan on going shopping tomorrow, so I might have a few targets of opportunity to report on.

Later,

Thundercat

Fuck Bin Ladin

**Reposted from the first Lair, original date: 12/20/03

Fuck Bin Ladin.  Fuck him up his stupid ass.

He is the reason why my day was so terrible.  I swear to God.

So I head off to the airport two hours early to catch my flight to Washington DC which departs at 1:10 pm for two weeks of family torture — er, I mean, FUN!  I figure two hours would be plenty of time for me to check in and get a bite to eat before the five hour trek across the country at 20,000 feet.  And I was right, two hours was enough time… BARELY!

I got to LAX and the place was fuckin’ PACKED!  I’m talking filled to the brim with people here.  Imagine what it would be like if John and George were resurrected and the Beatles were throwing a reunion concert, and you’ll get an idea of how crowded this fucking place was.

So I muddle through the sea of people and get to the United terminal to check in.  They’ve got something like 50 terminals open, and all of them are backed up.  The thing is, they’ve substituted the old fashioned check-in for the new automated “self check-in” process so they could speed up the time it takes to get people to the terminal.  Now, I’ve used the self check-in before, and its quite painless.  But you’d think they were asking most people to perform triple by-pass surgery on the Pope to get them to use these things.

So I wait in line to check in, and this old guy in front of me is getting all flustered at the terminal because it seems he is unable to grasp the technology of “sliding your credit card.”  He has to hail down a United rep to walk him through a process designed for kindergartners.  Then, a bunch of acne-ridden teenie boppers start cutting in line and pissing people off.  On top of that, you got a couple yahoos checking in baggage and blocking the terminals, which just backs the line up even further and pisses more people off.

So I get checked in, and they send me to this security checkpoint to drop off my bag so it can be searched before it gets on the plane.  I’m standing in this line for 40 MINUTES!  Not only that, but I’m sandwitched between the annoying teenie boppers and a guy with three of the skankiest girls I’ve ever seen in my life hanging off him (I wanted to introduce them to the word “shower,” but I felt I might be overstepping my bounds).  Therefore, I continue to wait, watching the OTHER security checkpoint line move through at warp speed as I’m stuck grinding my teeth to the nub.  Then I get up to the head of the line.  A guard comes up to me and looks at my bag.  “Is that it?” he asks.  “Yep.” I reply.  “Move along,” he says.  So I’m off to the next checkpoint.  Mind you, this took TWO SECONDS.  I began to wonder how many bombs the people in front of me were carrying for our line to take 40 FUCKING MINUTES to get through.

So I’m waved to the next security checkpoint and wait in another line.  Only this isn’t the line for the next security checkpoint.  Its the line to GET to the line for the next security checkpoint.  I pass that and go to the REAL line which is where they x-ray your bags and you go through a metal detector.  I’m stuck in this thing and amuse myself by looking at any HB I can find to pass the time (I didn’t see many, and the ones I did were too far away to sarge).  So I finally get to the X-Ray and pass the metal detector, making my way into the terminal.

By this point, I have a half hour before my flight leaves.  I’m hungry as hell because I didn’t have time to eat that morning, so I wanted to go to Wolfgang Puck’s to have a nice meal before I’m subjected to what passes for airline food these days, only there is no time, so I opt for McDonalds.  Of course, this ends up being bizzaro McDonalds because its neither cheap NOR fast.  I end up waiting 15 minutes for a Big Mac that cost me $10.

So I head to my gate with the most expensive Big Mac on the planet and start scarfing my food down.  I strike up a conversation with a guy next to me as I do so.  He’s wearing full army dessert fatigues, so I ask him where he’s headed.  He says he’s on his way to Iraq.  It turns out this dude has been on 2 weeks leave and was in the war from the beginning.  He was there when the troops invaded from Kuait, he was there when they took Bagdad, and he was there when they fought ambushes at Tekrit.  Suddenly, this guy who can’t be a year or two older than me is telling me more war stories than my grandfather, and I can’t help but be in awe and scared at the same time.

Now, I’ll be the first to admit I’m a lover, not a fighter.  I don’t want to fight anybody and I certainly never want to have to take another human life.  But I look at guys like the dude I was talking to at the gate, and I am so proud to live in a country where there are men who are brave enough to step up to the plate and fight with the very real possibility of dying to protect pussies like me.  I’ve got friends over in Iraq, and I’m afraid they may not come back.  I have friends who are going to be GOING to Iraq, and I’m afraid for them as well.  But I am so thankful this country has guys like them, because its their sacrifice that allows me to go out and try and pick-up chicks every night.  So I look at this army guy who looks to be around my age but carries the weight of his experience around with him like he were 100 years old, and I ask myself what kind of a world we live in when guys my age are war veterans, it takes 2 hours to get through and airport, and Big Macs cost $10?

All I can say is that I blame it on Bin Ladin.

If what they say is true and there is a paradise with 70 virgins waiting for the next guy to blow up his shoe to arrive, I hope to one day do my part and use my skills to sarge every last one of those chicks, so Habeeb McBoom-Boom gets nothing but sloppy seconds when he shows up.  And if there really is an Allah, he’ll give all the girls genital warts.  And if he’s a REALLY just God, he’ll make them slightly overweight and brain damaged to boot.  That way, the next camel-fucker who pulls a bomb out of his ass can really get what’s coming to him.

/end rant

Thundercat

You Like Me! You Really Like Me!

**Reposted from the first Lair, original date: 12/20/03

Wow, so I get into DC and check the blog, and find that there are actually people responding to my rants!  This is great.  I really appreciate the feedback.  It warms the cuckholds (whatever those are) of my cold, black heart to see people taking an interest and giving me constructive feedback on my various escapades.  Hopefully this will only grow, not JUST because I am a needy attention whore, but… well, come to think of it, that’s really the only reason.  lol!

Keep the replies comin’ guys.  It helps motivate me to update knowing that there are some people out there with enough free time to actually read this shit.

Thundercat