I’ve always been a naughty son of a bitch. Can you blame me?

When I open my eyes, I can barely see. My head is pounding and a bottle of booze is next to my face. “Christ,” I mutter out loud. “What the fuck happened last night?”

My buddy Eric and I have been fighting fires for over a decade now. They used to call us heroes. Now, they talk smack about us behind our backs.

I’ve practically given up the career. Ever since the fires destroyed half of the city last Christmas, I couldn’t take it anymore. Neither could Eric.

We saw too much. Now, we’ve just become a couple of dogs on the hunt for pussy.

Sorry, mom. Sorry Santa. Sorry everyone.

The party last night was too hectic: women were all over us. And I kept running to the bar to drown myself in whisky.

I know, it’s insane. You never turn down a hot chick who’s willing to fuck. But I’m not like most men. I find those plastic bimbos boring.

I don’t know what it is. I think I’m looking for the real deal. Sure, I’ve been on the naughty list my whole fucking life. That doesn’t mean that I want to be.

One thing I’ve learned from life is that the only thing you can expect is a good time and a swift kick to the balls when you aren’t watching for it.

“What about love?” she asked me. Some hot number, dancing up on me. I smirk at the question.

“Love?” I ask. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

I met Olivia when I was sixteen. We had the time of our lives together. We went to different high schools, so it was a whole adventure to get back to each other again.

I remember spending my time in class, waiting for her call. This was right when cell phones just came out. We didn’t have the luxury of texting each other whenever we wanted to. Data wasn’t unlimited and neither was our patience.

I remember wanting to fuck her every damn second. That’s what love is to me. A good fuck and a kiss goodbye.

By the time we saw each other, we’d throw our backpacks into the bushes and screw like bunnies. I had no idea what I was doing back then. I was just a kid. Christ, if only I could go back and do it right this time…

I don’t know why I’m thinking about her today. Olivia is just my ex-girlfriend. I shouldn’t be conjuring up her image again.

In reality, I’m just not excited about the dates I’ve been going on. The holidays are almost here and they look at me like I’m the grinch.

Let’s back up a bit…

Olivia was the worst woman I had ever gotten to know, but that’s only because she strove to be better than the rest of them.

You know what I mean. She was as hot as they come and as smart as Einstein. Double trouble.

She had the longest and most beautiful hair out of all the girls I knew. She bore a pair of thick and sexy thighs. Damn, I miss those thighs.

The girls hated her body, but the boys couldn’t stop staring. If I had been in any of her classes, I would have failed.

Did I mention she had an ass too? Well, she had the ass of all asses. If I knew what the hell I was doing back then, I would have devoured the thing every chance I got. I would have pounded it into oblivion!

I need to stop reminiscing. She’s not a queen. She’s more like a devil. A hot, fiery devil.

Look, it’s been a lifetime since then. It’s not like I’m hung up on her or anything. Though, whenever I take these women out, I can’t help but think about how Olivia might treat me, compared to them.

Sometimes, when I feel all empty and angry, I think about the feeling she gave me when she told me she “loved me.”

Bliss. Pure bliss. That’s the only way to describe it. But it’s not real. It’s something you say when you get too excited.

“I love you, babe.” Sure.

In the moment these words work. But what happens when I accidentally say hi to another woman? What happens when you start talking to some other guy who goes to your school?

Well, all bets are off. The love disappears. It turns to hate. You immediately start to realize that what you’ve been expecting is one big fantasy world.

“Yes, love is a fantasy,” I said to the woman last night. She actually winced when she heard it.

“Well, I don’t think so,” she said.

I don’t blame her for hating my guts. My theories go against the whole of mankind. Fuck it. Someone has to be controversial every now and then.

“What I mean to say is that you’re my fantasy.” I actually said that.

She just wants to be seen with the muscular guy at the bar. She wants to tell her friends, “he’s a firefighter.” Typical.

That’s not really what I am anymore. I’m a nobody. A nothing.

I tell people what they want to hear and they give me what they want. That’s the game, right?

Olivia set me up for failure. She took out my heart and tore it apart with her sexy teeth.

When all was said and done, she told me she didn’t believe in love anymore. Soon after that, I didn’t either. I’ve been free of it ever since.

I’m as free as a fucking bird.

So thank you, Olivia.

You ruined that Christmas for me. You left me in the snow. We were just eighteen. You taught me that love was a stocking full of coal.

Now, I only care about the chase. Trust me. It’s a lot more fun than love. There’s nothing like a beautiful set of tits, resting against my face.

That’s just the life I live now. In reality, it’s the only Christmas present I can give myself.