My Life | February 28, 2018 | By

Today we are going to discuss people whose only joy on this planet comes solely from spoiling everyone else’s fun. This is about how you really shouldn’t do that.

I see buzzkills everywhere. Like, for example:

The doorman that won’t let you in because you’re too pissed. Aren’t you meant to be pissed in a club? Buzzkill.

Or how about the person at the gym who complains to management when you smoke on the treadmill? Buzzkill.

Then we have the checkout girl who won’t just let you have the item that rang through at the wrong price. Just give it to me. Buzzkill.

My boss not allowing pets at work. Buzzkill.

The fat controller on the train actually checking tickets and then making you buy one because they don’t believe your excuse that you lost it. The train’s going that way anyway, why do I need a ticket? Buzzkill.

My boss not letting me drink at work. Buzzkill.

It’s everywhere you look really…

But when it come to matters of the vagina, being a buzzkill is less of an inconvenience, and actually just really fckin mean.

I was going out with my friend the other night and this guy had a hotel and wanted my hot ass in it. Also, I wanted my hot ass to be in it. So I was like: “Cool, I’ll be out for a while, then come over later.”

Plan + Friend + Hotel with Guy = Nothing

I told my friend of my plan for later that evening. 

It was about to be the perfect night – hang out with friends, go get laid.

At around midnight the guy messaged and asked what I was up to or whatever. At this point I wanted to immediately finish my drink, pay my tab and get an Uber to his. And you’d think my friend would want this for me too. 

But this was not the case. I can’t even be bothered to go on about the messages and what he was saying and what she was saying, so I’ll just fast forward to 3am…


I’m still out with my friend who wouldn’t let me go. Hotel guy is now pissed off with me and has seen me for the liar I am. I’d lied and told him I didn’t want to be out late, etc. 

I was low key fuming. No, I was high key fuming. With my friend. I don’t think it’s that she didn’t want me to have fun (it was a bit that), it was that she wanted to come along and hang out with one of his mates and it was all just ridiculous. 

This is why I have so many gbffs. Because they would have insisted I leave immediately to get a mouthful of dick. They’d be marching me to the car. But girls say things like: 

“But we’re on a night out…” 

“We never get to hang out.”

“Does he have a mate?”

“You can’t go we have to dance!”

“Oh, stay?”

I think I second-hand look cool over all this, because to him I would have come across as just not being that bothered about going to his hotel. But the whole thing was a stress-filled disaster and through all of it I was just thinking: “LET ME LIVE.”

For this to happen, my friends would need to let me live a happy, bone-heavy life and never stop me from doing anything that will prosper my own human requirements. 

I always encourage sexual encounters for my friends, even if I hate the guy; it’s not my vagina journey. 

People just can’t seem to do the same for me.

Some commandments to finish? Sure:

1. Don’t cock block. Ever. 

2. If your friend wants to go home, allow it. Just go home yourself and drink indoors alone.

3. Don’t let your sex-free life filter over into anyone else’s happiness, you must address these personal issues separately at another time.

4. “I think you’ve had enough.” Never tell a grown up they’ve had enough to drink. You’re not their Mum. Unless they’re likely to harm themselves by continuing drinking, then you may intervene. 

5. “Remember what you did last night?” Never tell someone the next day about the embarrassing shit they did last night. Drunken antics don’t count for anything and we don’t wish/need to be reminded of them.


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