Under The Wagon

Note: The Management has been advised to include a disclaimer about the risks of drinking any alcoholic beverages (much less these ones). We’re supposed to inform you that alcohol may cause liver disease, impair your ability to operate motor vehicles, and lead to birth defects. But frankly, we don’t care about your health, you’re already a bad driver, and we’re pretty sure your children would be ugly. In all honesty, we loathe you. So please enjoy:

Cocktails for the New Millennium: The Next Millennium, not this one.
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Tags: Filthy Lies & Fiction by Karla
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“I appreciate that I’m not the type of girl you would think to bring flowers to. And I understand that roses are boring, and tulips pedantic.”

“But CARNATIONS???”

(Entry in the Three Sentence Story Contest)

Tags: Filthy Lies & Fiction by Karla
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My birthday celebrations were quite the success, I imagine.

I honestly have no idea, because I don’t remember anything after 9:45pm (I arrived at 8). But since my friends are still talking to me (though sighing a great deal more than usual), I’m assuming it was a smashing success. Part of this confidence comes from the amazing birthday present a local band bought me.

Though THAT caused its own difficulties…
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Tags: Early Wagon Archive: Sex, Drunk, & Rock n' Roll by Karla
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Oh wow! Lookit…Over by the dumpster.

What? The box? Yeah, somebody must have gotten a new refrigerator.

Let’s build a fort.

Excuse me?

Let’s get the box and build a fort. You could totally fit in that thing.

I’m not building a cardboard fort. I’m 27 years old.

C’mon. It’ll be fun. And whimsical. You like whimsy.

I think I can safely say that I have already fulfilled my whimsical obligations for the summer. I went to the zoo no less than five times, fed ducks at the pond, AND I built sandcastles at the beach last month.

You only did that because you were hoping some bohemian artist type would see you grubbing around in the dirt wearing a bikini, and fall in love with the “glow of child-like wonder” in your eyes.

Shut up!

Please. It wasn’t even that great of a sandcastle.

It had a moat.

You didn’t even do anything when those little kids stomped on it while their mother cheered them on.

What was I supposed to do? Yell at a 5 year old? Yeah, that’d be just great…The scary tattooed lady makes a pair of toddlers cry and slaps their mother for not teaching them to stay the fuck off other people’s sand property. Whatever.

So you gonna grab that box, or what? I figure we start by cutting a few circular holes down one side…Upright, it’s a spaceship. On its side, a submarine!

I’m not getting the box.

And we could run down to Walgreen’s and buy some markers, make it look really sharp…

Listen, that box has been sitting in a pool of alley water and garbage juice for god-knows-how-long, it’s dirty, it’s damp, it’s…

Or, or, check this out: We cut out the top so it looks like the turret of a castle, spend the day defending ourselves from the Gauls. Huh?

Listen. I CAN’T do this. I can’t anymore. This cutesy-little-girl shit is killing me. I don’t want to look at the world as something new and magical everyday. I don’t want to be the breezy free spirit living on a different planet. I’ve got a lot of shit going on and all the fucking cardboard forts in the world aren’t going to change that. I’m tired of being “delightfully eccentric.” I want to be like everybody else. This is just…I can’t anymore. It’s just too hard.

Okay?

Okay?

It was a good box.

Yeah, it was. I know. I’m sorry.

So I didn’t get the box.

I wish I had.

Tags: Filthy Lies & Fiction by Karla
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A friend recently approached me at the bar we frequent.

“Hey, Karla, um…you know when we were, uh…”

“It’s called fucking, babe. Yes, what about it?” Friend and I have hooked up previously, but while I’m fun time, I’m not exactly “girlfriend material.” He’s now dating a very nice girl and he and I are just friends.

“You always came, right? And kinda easily. Well, (girlfriend) she doesn’t really, I mean, almost never…”

I’m not bragging out of turn, but I’ve heard this before. My orgasming ability has taken quite a few guys aback. The thing is, I am not genetically gifted with a pre-disposition for multiple orgasms. I had to teach myself how to come. And while I hate giving hints to the competition (i.e., any other girl who puts out), I’m tired of seeing my buddies in a tight spot…so to speak. And I hate seeing the few girls that actually befriend me go, “Well, I think I’ve had one.”

So here’s the first part of Under the Wagon’s new series:
The Karla Guide to Female Orgasms

Keep checking back, there’s plenty of advice for boys and some really important stuff for the ladies coming. Pun intentional.

Tags: The Karla Guides by Karla
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It’s not easy for women to have orgasms. No matter how sexually liberated you think you are, the simple fact is women are not conditioned to enjoy sex. I’ll be getting into the reasons behind this and how to overcome them in the next chapter, but in the meantime…Baby steps. First things first.

Ladies, today we’re gonna masturbate!
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Tags: The Karla Guides by Karla
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