Fuck-It list

"Quota"

When brother Dbo told me he met a goal for 3 years of slaying a different pussy every month and calling it his "Quota", I laughed my ass off.

Sure I knew guys who fucked over a hundred women before meeting Dbo, but I never met someone who made getting new pussy every month a non-negotiable priority.

Leave it to the guy who only eats tilapia in order to stay fit for his underwear model shoots to make getting some new vag a dietary must.

I met this beast of a man at a high school party in '07 when he was drunk trying to dance with his shirt off. With tats on his arms and lip-chap on his lips, he's the definition of a reformed tough guy turned into play-girl model. He's the guy that brags about his three percent body fat on his Facebook status and then fucks the horny twenty year-old Spanish hyenas that like it.

I was not sure if I found his idea of the Quota completely ridiculous or I was just afraid to grow a pair to try it myself.

The morals that my parents instilled in me said that the Quota was unsafe and shallow, but having the game to bed a different girl every thirty days played in my head like an ultimate fantasy.

I was never the guy to die a virgin, but I was far from a ladies' man growing up. In high school, I had a bad case of being too much of a pussy to pursue the tail that I wanted so I would have to settle for the hunchback of the high-school. The second girl I had ever been inside was so gruesome that I almost got into a fight with a so-called friend after he told the whole school about our debauchery.

What was more humiliating was I actually would WALK three miles to fuck the girl before sneaking out of her house so my best friend next door wouldn't suspect anything.

When you're trying to hide the fact that you're hooking up with a girl during the time when it is deemed a rite of passage for a teenage boy, there's a problem.

The quantity and quality of women I had actually been with was WAY below the average by the time I graduated high school in '07 and the Quota seemed like a fun excuse to raise my stats. But my fear of getting rejected by women was too powerful for me to take the challenge so the quota was just reduced to another dream that I didn't think was possible.

Luckily, life is like a prison cell mate. It has a funny way of bullying your pride into a corner, leaving you no choice but to suck its dick or to knock its fucking block off.

On 2009's New Year's Eve, my pride had enough.

When I saw brother Corrupter ring in the New Year by fucking his hundred and something blonde outside his parent's house, I was tired of smelling latex and bodily fluids that weren't my own. While everyone at Corrupter's house each stated their own New Year's resolution, mine had become clear:

I wanted my own Quota but I wanted to make it my own.

Ron: "I'm going to fuck a girl from a different race every month."

Everyone grinned at my drunken smirk before taking an awkward drink from their cups. Even though I felt like Special Ed who just slurred out his love for apple sauce, I lowered my Disaronno on the rocks to my lips and gulped it down in the most determined way I could.

This was the first time I had ever made a New Year's resolution, and I intended to keep it.

It took a lot of researching seduction, hanging out with guys with game, and kicking the habit of being a pussy, but by the end of January 2010 I had fucked my first Indian girl. In February, I fucked my first Irish girl. In March, I had fucked my first African girl. In April, I had taken my first virginity from a twenty-three year old who was saving herself for MARRIAGE.

For two years straight, The Quota transformed me into a sex machine.

My "fuck-it" list was being marked down so fast that I had to tweak my resolution to "either a different race I haven't fucked before," or "has a certain major trait that I had not sexually conquered yet," just so I could continue the challenge.

My brother and my friends soon caught wind of my successes with my little experiment and started to ask my new-found secret to pounding poon.

Their eyes widened with excitement and thirst when I let them into my and Dbo's little hobby. Soon many of them started to get their own Quotas in.

Although few really took the time to study the art of seduction like I did to meet their monthly Quota, the simple act of setting a goal to split a new pair of pink lips every month did wonders for their ass options.

It also did wonders for the funniest true drinking and fucking stories in the Hall of Hook-ups. We were sharing so many disgusting, amazing, and fuck-up sex/drinking stories with each other, Dbo thought it was a good idea to make a private group page on Facebook about it as a joke.

Since he wanted to be an Alpha when he went back to college, Dbo named the group Q PHI Q for Quota Phi Quota. Minus the community service (unless required by law) and beating the shit of pledges, we were a lot like a frat since we also got hammered and nailed sororities.

The only difference is we don't charge our pledges a couple grand for dues every semester.

Shit, we don't even make them drink toilet water.

We only require a commitment to wash their trouser snakes in a new birth canal every month and share the experience with their brethren if noteworthy. In order to protect our hearts from slordom and keeping pussy off the pedestal we also created certain rules of conduct.

In order to protect the lives of my brethren, I have masked their identities with aliases that match their character. Nevertheless, this book is a true testimony to what we have eternalized through our experiences with this pledge and to each other.

We are the Quota PHI Quota. Now hear us WHORE!

(btw guys I, The Author is a Filipino girl)