Vibrations of a Vixen

…stories from under the sheets…

My Brazilian. My (ir)Responsibility. January 29, 2010

Filed under: hypersex,rants — vixations @ 11:37 am

My Brazilian decided to leave the sunny City of Angels and move on to more, well, European adventures. He packed up his apartment, sold the Ikea bed that I sold him several months ago, and took about 900 bags on the airplane to Germany. Or London? I don’t fucking care. Anyway, the Brazilian decided to spend the night before he left with none other than the wonderful MOI! Why? I had no effing clue. I’m fun, but I’m not SO fun that you’d want to spend your entire last night in America with me before MOVING away to another continent. It was a Sunday. I was already drunk (naturally), and he brought over a bottle of wine from the 7-11. Even after only a few dates, he knows me well.

There I was, drunk on the couch, watching E!, and squealing about the Giuliana and Bill show because the guy I made out with on Friday happened to be on it. My roommate knew all about it. My Brazilian didn’t. Not like he would have cared. He speaks good English, but sometimes I feel like he doesn’t understand what I’m saying. Maybe because I talk too fast. Or too high-pitched. Especially while drunk. Maybe he’s like those animals that can only hear certain pitches. Did I just make that up?

The most likely explanation is that he really doesn’t care what I say at all, he just came over so he could sleep with me. Same reason why any guy comes over on a Sunday night. Right? I mean he certainly didn’t come over to watch Giuliana and Bill.

So we drank more. Much more. Until I decided I wanted to be horizontal, and I didn’t care if he wanted to join. The next part is a blur. Sometimes when I close my eyes I’m not sure if I’m awake or dreaming. Maybe that’s how I’m able to convince myself that things like naked Brazilians in my bed are okay.


If only I HAD sick days at this god-forsaken hell hole also known as my job.

The next afternoon, I received a message via Facebook from the Brazilian.

Subject: hi from London

Message (abbreviated):

so just wanted to say that was great meeting you, i like your fun sweet easy-going personality and most of all, i like that you are a very truthful (is that a word?) and original person

wish you the best!


PS.: as usual… sorry about the irresponsability that day, my fault! Would you hate me forever if I asked you to take one of those day after pills?


You can’t make this shit up. He doesn’t even know if ‘truthful’ is a word. Or how to spell ‘irresponsibility.’ And, REALLY? One of those ‘day after pills’???? Great. He DIDN’T use a condom. Again. After I FREAKED OUT last time. What the hell is wrong with everyone??? Why is it MY responsibility to ask YOU to throw a rubber on your South American cock? Why is it that I always have to prevent the babies and the diseases? I’m not responsible at all! If you were worried about little children running around, don’t fucking cum in me. Or get a vasectomy. OR USE A CONDOM. Especially when I’m half in dream state and half totally wasted. It’s YOUR COCK and therefore YOUR RESPONSIBILITY if my egg gets fertilized. It doesn’t fertilize itself, idiot. And you don’t just take the ‘day after pill’ whenever the fuck you want. It’s SO BAD for you. Not as bad as an actual abortion I guess, but you’re only supposed to take Plan B like twice in your life. This is something all boys should know. There are some retarded females out there who take it all the time, but I certainly don’t. In fact, I’ve never taken it before. Because I’m SO GOOD at taking my birth control, and I’ve been on it basically since I left the womb and there’s no way I’m getting pregnant anytime soon, even if I stop taking it. Also, I’m petrified of taking any pills (other than birth control) or putting chemicals into my body (which makes no sense, because I take birth control every day). I don’t take painkillers because I’m convinced I’ll get an ulcer or have a heart attack and die.

But, there’s no way I could ever take care of ANYONE else besides myself, and maybe the Brazilian has really fertile spermies, and since the message came less than 36 hours after the act, and I had a Plan B pack in my bathroom that Planned Parenthood gave me for free (because they know I’m a huge slut), I decided to open it, take a deep breath, and swallow it.

And that was the longest sentence ever.

Then I thought about all the ways I could die. Maybe Plan B will eat my stomach from the inside out and my intestines will fall out. Maybe the sperm-killing chemicals will also kill all of my white blood cells and I’ll contract swine flu and AIDS at the same time and slowly suffer for the next three weeks until my head explodes and there’s blood and dead sperm everywhere.

Clearly, I didn’t die. I didn’t even get sick. Although other girls have told me horror stories about having to skip school/work because the pill gave them the most evil and debilitating cramps of their lives. Oh, the sperm-killing terribleness!! Don’t we suffer enough with the monthly flow and the baby birthing??

These kinds of drugs were obviously created by men. If I had it my way, I would give all boys some kind of ‘night of’ pill before they sleep with me, not ‘morning after’ pill. That way I would be sure that if any of their sperm found a way into my ovaries, no babies would be made. And I wouldn’t even have to hear from them the next day.

Sounds like a win-win situation to me. Now, who’s the female pharmacist that’s going to patent this drug?? And what shall we call it?


12 Responses to “My Brazilian. My (ir)Responsibility.”

  1. Mark Says:

    Wow, great post!! Your stories are very entertaining.

    Yeah, you have to keep your eye on those Brazilians – they always cause trouble and then flee the country 🙂

  2. d.ettinger Says:

    I love how the note started off all nice and polite and then all of a sudden he’s asking you to “take the morning after pill”… que boludo

    • vixations Says:

      Ahh, Dan! Your comment got lost in Spam Comment land! Why??? And I know, right? Like, you’re all the way across the world and you’re sending me a FACEBOOK message to sweeten me up and get me to take a pill to kill your sperm. Good one. Don’t try that at home, boys.

  3. “If you were worried about little children running around, don’t fucking cum in me. Or get a vasectomy. OR USE A CONDOM.”


    Also, please do NOT have a fucking baby. At least not yet. I’m not ready to be a fake aunt. Even though I’m already a real aunt. Whatever. You know what I’m saying.

  4. June Says:

    Aw, I always ask guys to put on a condom because some of them WILL NOT because it “feels better” or something ridiculous. Yeah, but you could get HIV or gonorrhea or herpes or some shit that makes your dick burn off… or make BABIES. Basically, guys are ANIMALISTIC forms of human beings that think with their DICKS who you have to babysit.

    Sucks, and yeah, I agree with Nicole. BABIES ARE EVIL… AND BAD AND YEAH, BAD NEWS.

  5. vixations Says:

    Nicole: You can bank on NOT being the fake aunt to my illegitimate child for now. And potentially forever. Although you would be the best fake aunt ever and would probably coach my child be so amazingly awesome. And ridiculous. And what the fuck am I saying I AM NOT HAVING CHILDREN.

    June: You’re totally right about the animals. Although it does feel so much better and sometimes I’d rather not have sex at all than have sex with a condom. Oops. But it makes no sense to me that guys don’t think of the fact that maybe WE are the ones with STDs and will totally give them to guys if they are THAT irresponsible. Just because we’re cute awesome girl doesn’t mean that we’re clean. I mean I am clean. But, whatever. IRRELEVANT. Babies bad. Men that shoot blanks? Good.

  6. vixations Says:

    Oops, when I said ‘girl’ I meant ‘girls.’ Too much coffee ahhhhhhh.

  7. […] my last post, I talked about My Brazilian, his irresponsability (yes, I spelled that wrong on purpose because […]

  8. Andrea Says:

    I didn’t know you were only supposed to take Plan B twice. I mean, not that I’ve taken it twice. I’m not really pushing that limit. Although maybe I am because I did take it once. So… that’s a fucking low-ass limit. Anyway, I just wanted to share with you what I was thinking as I took the Plan B pill… 1. Why did I fuck up on my birthday control NOW of all times? 2. Wow, I feel really nauseous. 3. IF I FUCKING THROW UP THIS PILL I’M GOING TO SLIT MY WRISTS. 4. Hm.. I guess that wasn’t so bad.

    • vixations Says:

      Haha! It seems like it’s always one extreme or the other. You either get really sick, or you’re totally fine. I think I might have made up the twice-in-your-life thing. But I definitely heard something like that somewhere, otherwise I don’t think I would have thought it was so bad. Or maybe I did just totally make all of this up. But, really, it has to be really bad for your body, right?

  9. Simone Says:

    The only thing Plan B ever did to me was make me barf like I had never barfed before. It felt like 9 months of morning sickness condensed into 10 minutes. It wasn’t pretty! The second time I took it nothing happened, except that it felt like I had a bit of a body buzz. Weird.

    PS. I love your blog! xo

  10. […] pretty much sum up this experiment as being an epic fail. Between the lack of credible advice and abandonment of responsibility in more ways than one, I can safely say that I am not one step closer to any conclusions. I […]

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