my name is B.YONEST… and I BANGED MEGAN FOX: CHAPTER IV
I CAN’T FUCKIN’ CALL MEGAN FOX… CAN I?
If YOU got a phone number from a mega sexxy, super famous, put it in her anus, dip your dick in Kool-Aid and drink it, SUPERSTAR, would you call her? No seriously, imagine you’re me right now. I believe sincerely in the powers that “B.” If you say something’s going to happen, it’s going to FUCKIN’ HAPPEN. But this was mega fucked up. IT’S MEGAN FOXs’ phone number, people. I been starin’ @ it for three straight days, with a dick so stiff, it’s like I swallowed a 50 pack of Viagra (REALLY, I swallowed 12 JUST to make sure my penis could get hard in case I BANGED MEGAN FOX).
How the fuck do you reach in your pocket, take out your phone and call MEGAN FOX? YOU TELL ME… I’ll Wait! Yeah, shit’s fucked up. All I wanted was the chance to BANG her brains out, I got her number and now I’m too pussy to dial the ten digits. This was worse than wanting to bang Nikki Hilton, only to find out she’s not cute in person and well… YOU REMEMBER the ocean, sushi thing…. no need to beat a dead fish.. I MEAN HORSE!! (ENOUGH DISSIN NIKKI… honestly I’m HIGHLY attracted to her.. I met her a cpl times in Vegas and L.A. She’s hot and MEGA COOL.)
“B, you gotta call her bro,” Zak told me AGAIN. He’d been preachin’ to me for over what appeared to be a fortnight (that’s a three week period, I believe.. I DO DRUGZ) about callin’ Megan. I hadn’t slept, I went to a studio session and wrote Megan Fox over and over on my notepad for hours (like I was in 4th grade, eating my friends’, cousins’ dog shit again) and my dick was STILL rock solid. MAYBE callin’ Megan would calm me down a little and let my “nerves” (for lack of better term) rest @ ease OR maybe I’m a fuckin’ idiot for thinking that and the thought of being ALONE with Megan Fox excites the shit out of me, but makes me quiver with fear of incompetence. Either way, I had to do something. This shit was ridiculous and the longer I waited to call her, the less her chance of remembering my stupid ass. I’m sure drunk people pass out and vomit in front of Megan Fox ALL the time. Chances of her remembering me if I did call would be SLIM. I THOUGHT, ANYWAY!!!
“Fine, I’ll call her,” I said with a confident attitude (on the inside my stomach was turning knots like I got dropped from a window of the Sears Tower). “After, we meet with up with the tree man, get some food decide where we’re going tonight, I’ll call her.” Fuck NO I didn’t believe I’d really call her. I was in the ultimate cork screw. The most beautiful girl a phone call away from sittin of my face and I don’t want to open my mouth (unless she’s sitting on my face) in fear that my words may FUCK IT UP forever. The more high I got, the more concerned and paranoid I became about calling her.
CONVERSATION W/ B.YONEST BEGINS NOW….
“Seriously you pussy. If Brian Boston Bean can talk to her, bang her brains out and get her to tattoo this name on her, you can AT LEAST call her dude. ON THE OTHER HAND, Boston Bean did have a baby with Vanessa Marcil. How is Boston Bean doing this shit? I ALMOST can’t hate the kid anymore. Homie got game. I’m fuckin hungry. I think I may want a gyro. Maybe some chicken wings. This kush is some serious fire, I’m smokin’ on. Damn, Vanessa Marcil is amazing. If this thing with Megan doesn’t work out, I sure would like…”
All of a sudden my phone rang. It scared the shit out of me (because I was in fantasy land about a threesome with Megan Fox and Vanessa Marcil, smoking weed together and eating barbecue sauce off each other which could never happened cuz they both banged Boston Bean), but it was a number I recognized. Equinox (Santa Monica), my phone read. I obviously knew it was Jason “Ari” Paulino calling to tell us he was about to get off work and he’d be at he’s ready to…(again, I won’t put him on blast, but we SUPER KICK it with Paulino.. GREAT PEOPLES..)
“What up, Ari P.,” I screamed with excitement. Jason is the perfect “Ari Gold.” Excited, hungry, loud-mouthed asshole, loves money and would jump across the Grand Canyon for his friends/clients and affiliates.
“Uhhh, is this B,” the voice on the other end said with a certain “uncertainty.” Freaked me out because I was expecting to hear “Ari”P. on the other end, I’d heard that voice before. I may drink an extensive amount of Grey Goose, smoke trees so much I cant run upstairs and act like an idiot 94 percent of the time, but THAT VOICE I remember. It sounded low, sexxy and it had a slight whisper. Who the fuck is this, I wondered.
“Yeah, this is B.” Who am I speaking…. I didn’t even finish the words… “Wait, this is gonna sound stupid as shit to say, but is this Megan Fox?” I asked (sort of with an ass-hole grin on my face.) I didn’t remember giving her my number. She didn’t know my last name (I didn’t think) so how is she calling me. That’s not something you REALLY ask Megan Fox, though. It’s not Megan Fox.
“Yeah, it’s me. Feel free at anytime to start calling me Megan though. I got your number from Jason I think his name is. The cute, black Membership guy here. For some reason I was upstairs working out and I thought about how Brian, my friend Brian, is going out of town. Then I remembered your name is Brian. Then I remembered you passing out and me putting my number on your forehead with a post it note; WHICH YOU NEVER CALLED by the way. Then I wondered if I could get a hold of you to make sure you were okay. I thought Jason would have your number. I didn’t want to use my number because you obviously didn’t want it so I called from Jasons’ office. I’m talkin a lot, huh,” she exalted.
I hadn’t taken a breath in at least forty-five seconds. From the time the phone rang, I realized it wasn’t Jason and it WAS Megan, I hadn’t breathed. I mean, I wasn’t going to pass out on the phone or anything, but Megan clearly had a way of making me hyperventilate.
“No, well yeah you’re talkin’ a lot, but it’t okay Megan. How’s that,” I asked only to reassure myself I could call her Megan (instead of Megan Fox). I was feeling myself becoming more comfortable. I’m on the phone with Megan Fox and the transition from pussified geek to P.I.M.P. was taking place right in front of my very eyes OR out of my very mouth. No NE-YO!
“That’s perfect. Thank you. I was actually wondering if you were going out tonight. It’s Thursday and I know you were at Villa last Thursday. I planned on going up there and if you’re not busy we can meet for a drink or two.”
PAINT THE SCENE, B.YONEST! OKAY, HERE WE GO!
Remember the Movie “Knocked Up?” Seth Rogan got Katherine Hiegl pregnant on a one night stand. No, I didn’t plan to get Megan Fox pregnant. Bare with me for a second. In the Movie, Katie realized she was pregnant and sent Seth an email (because he was too broke to have a phone) asking him to call her. His friend received the email and told Seth “You got a message from her, dude.” Seth thought it was because she wanted some more action. He was runnin around the backyard, humping chairs and talkin’ dirty. That’s how i felt @ that moment. Not like I’m going to have sex with Megan Fox. The thought that someone THAT HOT wanted to spend 45 seconds with me game me the most excited feeling IN THE WORLD.
“We hadn’t made any specific plans yet, but I’m sure if I told Zak we have to go to Villa tonight to kick it with DJ Edski and oh by the way Megan Fox asked us to come to the bar and have a couple drinks, he wont have a problem with it,” I responded as I started laughing. This is crazy. Do I have a date with Megan tonight. Naw, just a new buddy she feels sorry for that she wants to get drunk with, maybe?
“Okay, well you have my number babe. Figure out what you guys are going to get into later and gimme a shout. I’m going to the gym, I have to rehearse and read over some lines but I’ll be ready to party it up probably around 8:30/9pm so let me know.” 10 seconds later. “B, are you there?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. Tonight. 9pm. Rehearse lines @ Villa with DJ Edski. Wait. U know what I meant. We’ll be there babe,” (I called her babe just to see if it would pass through. IT DID.)
“Okay. Well I’ll talk to you and see you later tonight. Make sure you call me before you head up there. We have V.I.P. tables and all that stupid stuff so you won’t have to worry about gettin in, buyin drinks or anything like that,” she said with excitement in her voice. AUTHENTIC excitement! TWENTY seconds later…
“Sounds perfect, Megan. We got a few errands to run as well before we get some dinner. Maybe we should get a bite to eat before we hit Villa. We’re in Santa Monica, but we can meet you wherever.” I could feel myself beginning to talk too much.. “GET OFF THE FUCKIN PHONE,” I told myself.
I HUNG UP. I didn’t wait for a response. I didn’t finish my statements. I hung up on Megan Fox. What an ASSHOLE, right.? Did she get offended? Should I call her back? What the fuck was I supposed to do. 10 seconds later I received a text message..
“Dinner before sounds great. I know a great restaurant in Santa Monica. My friend and I will call you and Zak later tonight. P.S. Thanks for hangin’ up on me… Foxxy..”
I have no idea what the fuck I was doing, but it was working. Maybe passing out, vomiting, hanging up and hypervenilating was the key to a ladies’ heart on the West Coast. Zak and I were living the Los Angeles dream. Banged the Hilton Sisters. Every club we went to, DJ Edski was spinning with DJ Ivy. The trees in the city were immaculate (I have a legal license to smoke in Los Angeles) and to top it off, I HAVE A DATE WITH MEGAN FOX tonight. Brace yourselves… Shit’s about to GET SERIOUS…