Colleges, no matter size or location, are a prime hunting ground for insanimus guano in the wild. This is where they either hone the skills taught to them by a master insanimus sensei or they begin to test out their skills as an insanimus wilder; a natural born insanimus. All they need to ply their trade is an idiot that is thinking with his dick and not his mind. But even the most idiotic of us can recognize an amateur and run the other way.

My first few years of college were spent in the mountains at a small community college. The men out numbered women 10 to 1. The odds were never in our favor. If we wanted any chance to get laid we had to leave town and find some place that had better odds. Ski resorts were a good option but always proved to be a crap shoot. However, being young and horny, this is exactly what John and I often did.

Through the grapevine we heard that there was a big party Saturday night at a sister campus about an hour away. John and I loaded up the Yugo with a change of clothes, a case of Keystone, and ample weed for the occasion. We took an uneventful trip, sober, through the mountain passes and arrived at where the party was.

It was not the rager that it was hyped up to be. There were about 30 people or so at the house. On the upside, the girls to guys ratio was about 2 to 1. The odds were now in our favor. Now, I am not saying that the girls at the party were top tier, but they weren’t bottom either. Most had good personalities and when you were hard up like we were, you usually took what was in front of you, unless they were total crazy or just plain fucking ugly.

John managed to hit it off with a girl in no time. Becky was perfect for John. Where he was 6′ 4″ she was a petiite 5′ 2″. With that small frame came big tits and John was definitely a tits guy. They were talking and laughing about what, I don’t know. I didn’t care. I was on the hunt. I talked with several girls at the party but did not find the one that I wanted to hook up with. The ones that had the most potential either were already with someone or “they had a boyfriend back home.” That was always a bullshit excuse.

I found that in my youth I had an inverse relationship between time and standards. The more time that went by at a party, with the time since I was last laid as a multiplier, the lower my standards were for who I was going to fuck. I believe it was Hipparchus that originally noted this in his Laws of Getting Laid. It was later affirmed by Newton who postulated the importance of the time multiplier. Either way, these laws have been passed down over the centuries and are as applicable today as they were when Aristotle was looking for some short skirts.

It didn’t take long for John to take the party outside so we could take some hits off the pipe. As the three of us started heading out the back door, Becky’s friend Amanda came rushing out with us. There are moments of clarity that for some rarely happen and for others happen all to often, moments that scream, “Dude, she has crazy eyes and is fucking nuts!” Amanda would make any dick led idiot to make the right choice. She was needy, touchy, and, frankly, not very pretty at all. There was no way I would touch her even if I was using my worst enemies dick.

We sat outside on the grass taking hits off the pipe. It was a good bag of weed that John brought back from Pennsylvania. As the pipe came back around, I took a hit and then passed it off to Amanda. It turns out that she liked power hits and I was the one she wanted them from. Wanted is not the right word. It was more like insisted on it. I tried as hard as I could to give a power hit without going mouth to mouth with her. As I approached to blow smoke into her mouth, she full on lip locked and tried to finish with some tongue. That is just fucked up and poor power hit etiquette. Even high, my standards had not dropped that low.

John and Becky went inside to find an empty room. Their intent was obvious. Amanda had what I am sure she thought was a stroke of genius.

“Hey Teague, you and I should join them for a foursome.”

Now, I could get my freak on with the best of them, but that night was not the night. I still had no interest in Amanda. I wish I could say I was interested in someone, anyone at the party. But at every turn, Amanda was there to cock block me from my objective. I needed an answer to this great idea of hers and quick. The simplest was the best.

“I’m just not into that kind of thing” I told her. I thought that the minimalist answer left little room for debate. I did not know the tenacity of a wildling insanimus guano. Her reply was swift, if not direct.

“Then we should just get ou ownr room and I will suck your dick.”

I was definitely not expecting that for a reply. As much as I would have welcomed a good blow job, I knew I did not want it from her. I had to find another way to put her off. But how does a guy say no to that? “Sorry, I only let guys suck my dick” Nope, that was not a rumor I was about to start. “I would love to but the Department of Health said I could not have sex until the lesions went away.” Again, not a story I wanted to start circulating. My options were running low.

I decided to go with the Dead Kennedy’s defense. “I would love to but I am too drunk to fuck.”

That was it. It left her without options. It also left me with few options to hook up with someone else. I decided to find a seat on the couch, have a beer and wait for John to finish so we could go. There was no fucking way I was going to crash there that night. If I did, I know I would have woken up with my dick in Amanda’s mouth. I knew the morning would not have made her any better looking. It was not going to happen.

It took Amanda all of three minutes to find me. She moved into to sit right next to me. I nudged over to the left. Everyone needs a little personal space, especially when you are being stalked by insanimus. Seeing space between us, Amanda nudged left. I reached forward to grab my beer and then settled back into the couch 6 inches further left than where I started. Amanda was quick to fill the void. This went on for about ten minutes. Finally, seeing someone that wanted to take a seat, I moved up on the arm of the couch. It was about this time that John and Becky came out of the bedroom, each looking thoroughly fucking satisfied.

John took one look at me and I knew the fucker was laughing on the inside. Not only did he get laid and I didn’t, I was actively defending myself from being sexually attacked by the insanimus known as Amanda. When Becky suggested we should spend the night, I was quick to say why we couldn’t.

“I have a big exam on Monday that I need to get back and study for.” The go to excuse that is rarely every debated. With that, we made our way out to he mighty blue Yugo and started our drive back home. John was no longer laughing on the inside, he was giving me shit he rest of the way back home. On the upside, I learned that no matter how high or drunk I was, I still had standards.Unfortunately, history would prove that I was not always such a good judge of who is insanimus and who is not.