The Real Me

THE FUTURE

2007-05-16T21:57:00.000-06:00

Just got done watching some science show about what the earth will be like in the future. Think it was on Discovery channel.

Anyway, it got me to thinking of the future. When I think of the future, I don't imagine Captain Kirk or Chewbacca or robots that do your homework and cook you a chicken, or hover crafts that drive automatically..

I think of women like the ones above.

In my mind's vision of the future, all women will wear outfits such as the ones pictured above. Latex, Spandex, Lycra, whatever they want, as long as it is tight. They will all have asses like that as well.

Man, the future is gonna kick ass!

Sexy Tattoos

2007-05-08T09:13:00.000-06:00

With the arrival of warm weather, I have been seeing the ladies wearing less and less clothing. Cutoff shirts, shorts, tank tops -- I am lovin it. And with this warm weather attire, I have been seeing more and more tattoos. I think everyone is getting a tattoo.

Anyway, I dont know what it is about a hottie with a tattoo, but it drives me crazy!!!! God Bless you all!!

Free Advice Saturdays

2007-05-06T21:06:00.000-06:00

Tonight, I went to a friends house to watch the De la Hoya-Mayweather fight. It was pretty fun. A guys night out if you will. Just a bunch of guys, beer, cards, and sports.

This one guy related an interesting story to the group and I, being the advice guy that I am, had to put in my two cents worth.

So, here we are, Free advice Saturdays. If any of you guys are in this situation, hope this info helps you out. I am going to write this one in a question and answer format, to make it more like that ask Dr. Ruth column.

So, here is this guys situation: He's been dating this girl for about 6 months, and when she took him home to meet her mother, he was instantly attracted to her. She's 53 and incredibly hot. Also, she's been giving him those flirtatious signs, and now he has gotten this incredible urge to bang her. He wanted to know if this was normal, is he a sick perv, or should he go for it.

My response: Beware the elder pussy. Not that there aren't a lot of scintillating older women in this world. God knows that nothing conjures more evil thoughts in my loins than the sight of a forty-something mom with a tramp stamp on her lower back, trying to snake her ass into the same skinny jeans as her teenage daughter. And there are a lot of older women out there I would gladly hop in the sack with for a wild romp. Many times, the older, more experienced ladies are the best in bed. I love MILF's.

But your situation if very different. For one, you are dating her daughter. Secondly, you have the father/husband to deal with. And third, you are only 24 years old and your girl friend is 22. Let's break this down.

For one thing, you're gonna risk losing your young and undeniably tight-assed girlfriend for a woman whose ass – no matter how nice it may look in jeans – has got 53 years of mileage on it. Second, you run the risk of having two women want to slice your balls off with a cleaver. And lastly – and this is most important – think of your girl's dad. Bad enough he's already pissed that you're trying to make time with his little girl. If he finds out you're after his wife as well, you may find yourself at the bottom of the Des Moines River. And not in a good way. Roll with the young, my friend.

MILFS

2007-05-05T23:28:00.000-06:00

There is so much going on in the world today. Wars, terrorism, freaks shooting people up, gas prices going towards $3.00 a gallon again. What more can this country face!!!

Well, there is something that needs to be addressed. It has been a perplexing topic for several years now, but it is just entering the mainstrean phase of being a phenomenon. I am talking about the MILF!!! Yes, the MILF!!

I'm a MILF purist. Stifler's Mom from American Pie is the original MILF (see pic above), and remains the standard to which all MILF's will be judged. She.was simultaneously blowzy and sultry, her defining quality was the ability to either squish Finch (her much younger admirer) like an ant, or give him the best sex of his life. There's the tension; there's the art. With a MILF, you just never know.

Since then, tacky pop culture has debased the definition. It seems that any woman with a child has been called a MILF. Angelina Jolie, WTF, has been designated one. Listen up, people! Those kids are adopted. This does not count towards MILFdom. A MILF has had kids through either her vagina or through her abdomen (if a c-section). Angelina Jolie is cheating!!

A man should recognize a MILF immediately upon introduction. Marg Helgenberger is one; Cate Blanchett is not. Sharon Stone is; Gwyneth Paltroon....sorry, Paltrow, is not. The only strict definition I'm prepared to issue is that their children should be under nineteen years old, but then I look at Raquel Welch , and figure that I might be wrong there too.

Back here in the real world, the rise of the MILF is unfathomable. The baby boom has given us a cornucopia of delicious moms, and every man worth a pinch wants some.

MILFs: they don't tell, they don't swell, and they're as grateful as hell.
GOD BLESS THE MILFS!!!!!!!

International Skin Flicks

2007-04-29T09:03:00.000-06:00

Last night was a boy's poker night. As usual, we got together, played some cards, drank a lot of beer, and talked about sports, sex, and women. The conversation quickly turned to porn.

As many of you know, I was once a purveyor of porn. I have seen my share of Jenna Jameson getting her boobs squirted on or Chasey Lain getting banged by Ron Jeremy and Peter North. Unfortunately, I have not been watching a lot of porn as of late. I don't have time, nor the desire since, after awhile, it all becomes the same.

Anyway, I spent much of the 90's traveling abroad. I have been all over Asia and South America. One thing that these two areas have in common is a plethora of pirated videos, many of them pornos. I have had the good fortune to experience international porn. A couple of the other guys had also spent some time abroad and had seen their fair share of skin flicks from around the world as well.Here are some of our observations.

Thai porn - insufficient breast footage (maybe because there are not too many big breasted chicks in Thailand), Seems very rehearsed and unnatural. Cheap sets. A huge interest in She-Male porn. Much of the mainstream porn included at least the appearance of a transsexual or transvestite.

Indian porn - too much story, too little action; the music was very distracting, It seemed like the actresses were more concerned with actually acting rather than the sex. Like they would be found by some Bollywood producer.

Japanese porn - unhappy pissed off looking girls, odd fetishes. Too many knee-high sock and bukkake issues. Also, lots of bondage

French porn - hairy girls, always trying to look art-house. Nice lingerie and costumes though

German porn - very high quality, very dirty, hot girls. The girls would do anything. They would be peed on, shat on, forced to drink the cum of 20 men. Weird stuff. The Mercedes-Benz of filth.

East Euro porn - even hotter girls, no story or plot, just porn. It went from one scene straight to another. No lead in.

American porn - the gold standard. Thanks to everyone in the San Fernando Valley.

Italian porn - I think Italian porn was the best. The girls were the hottest, the sex scenes were beautifully shot, there was some decent acting, and the settings were elaborate. They treat it like a big time production. Very well done Italy.

My Fetish

2007-04-24T19:41:00.000-06:00

"Fetish" is such an over-used iword, especially when used in non-sexual situations. This has really messed up the use of a good word for me. Girls will say "I have a purse fetish." or a "shoe fetish" or something like that. If a girl says she has a shoe fetish, it means one thing. If a guy has a shoe fetish, we all know that it has a TOTALLY different meaning

Anyway, I've decided to admit my fetish...right here for all of you readers. You will learn of my dirty fetish!!

I have a woman fetish. I love to look at women... whether it's tight jeans and a form-fitted shirt, tank tops, bikinis, THONGS, short skirts, long skirts, shorts, capri pants, cut-off blouses, dresses, whatever.... sometimes you can just see the sexiness the woman carries with her. It's sad, really how bad my fetish has become. I'll have lunch with my friend JT (who, like me is a dude) and we'll be talking and a woman will walk by and I'll have a hard time keeping my focus on our conversation. You know, I try sp hard to be subtle, and I think most of the time I am, but there's something about high heels and one of those sexy skirts or form fitting pants on the right girl that is just hard to look away from. I think that most women either know they are hot and get a lot of looks, therefore avoid looking around for fear of seeing the creepy guys that are checking them out, or they are totally oblivious to the fact that they are being admired, both near and far.

There is something to be said about just the sight of a beautiful woman who obviously cares about her looks (not vain....just cares) and is not afraid to leave a little eye candy out there for the rest of us to admire.

Pregnant and Glowing!!!

2007-04-24T18:40:00.000-06:00

This is some chick named Katie Price. I guess she is a celeb in the UK. Anyway, she knows how to flaunt it while pregnant.

I don't know why, but I am turned on by pregnant chicks!! I love it. I guess I am a little like Alan on Two and a Half Men. When he was going crazy over the maid's pregnant daughter.

I have two kids, so I have been there. The belly grows and so does my level of horniness. I see a pregnant hottie and wild fantasies run through my head. I think it is the glow that pregnant ladies give off.

I Love Soccer!!!

2007-04-22T10:13:00.000-06:00

ENOUGH SAID!!

What a Fridge!!!

2007-04-21T10:02:00.000-06:00

I dont know about you, but that is my kind of fridge. The only thing in it is beer and whipped cream.

What? What did you say? A girl in a thong?... Oh yeah, I see that now. That isn't bad either.

Free Advice Fridays

2007-04-20T22:00:00.000-06:00

Dear E: Whenever my girlfriend gets drunk, she's all over her roommate. Her roommate's a girl also, which seems pretty cool, but she's sometimes so busy making out with and feeling up her roomie she almost forgets I'm in the room. I used to think it was for show, but she does it even when it's just the three of us hanging out. Should I be nervous that my girlfriend's gonna switch teams on me?

Buddy, the only thing you should be concerned about is that she might start feeling up her roomie and you're not around to see it. Honestly, who the fuck complains that his girlfriend makes out with other hot young women? I know many guys who would kill to be in your position, and most would be trying to find a way to take it all to the next level, scheming some bizarre scenario involving a kiddie pool full of whipped cream, dog leashes, fireworks, leather straps and masks, Crisco oil, cheerleader outfits and a full-on game of "twister." You should be, too. And if you're not taking it upon yourself to film it all to share with your buddies later, then you're not much of a friend at all. Get with the program Dude!!

The Lovely Miss Hilton

2007-04-20T21:58:00.000-06:00

I think Paris must have picked up a case of the crabs!!! What a classy lady.

Doing it on the First Date, Go for It!!

2007-04-19T09:54:00.000-06:00

In my opinion, it just cuts to the chase.

Consider this: Relationships aren't all about sex, but that's a big part of it. I mean, you wouldn't date and/or marry someone who wasn't fairly good in bed, correct? Now I know there are a few people that will say "But it is all about love, sex isnt important" I am all for love. It is super important. I would say it is the most important thing. But, for most people, sex is right up there. A relationship with terrible sex is doomed 80% of the time (That is my estimate).

I know of two relationships where they waited until they were married for sex. Both of them ended in divorce. One was because of sex. It was the girl who said she wanted more and better quality, so she started screwing around. The other was a combination of things, but one of them was that the sex was boring. I know there are many relationships in which they have waited to have sex and the relationships survived. And that is great. As for me, I want to test drive the car before buying it, you know what I mean. And it seems most of them women I know feel the same way.

Now, there are certain things about people – let's call them "personal quirks" – that might take a while to reveal themselves. Maybe she likes to pick fights with football players when she's drunk and you have to step in to defend her (And get your ass kicked). Maybe he likes to paint "Yankees 4 Eva" on his ass and sprint naked through the yard after each Yankee victory (Being a Yankee should doom the relationship right there. Frickin Yankees!!). Maybe she keeps voodoo dolls of all her ex-boyfriends in the attic and periodically sticks pins in them. All potential deal breakers – but also the sort of things that don't become apparent 'til a few weeks or months into the relationship. But a bad fuck? You'll be able to spot that sucka the minute you get rolling.

So while some might consider you "slutty" for screwing on the first date, I would prefer to think of you as a cautious consumer, who's simply performing responsible consumerism. Party on!

The Ass Man Returns

2007-04-18T21:42:00.000-06:00

The new object of my affection -- and the reason I'm going to die of carpal tunnel syndrome -- is here.

Also, how exactly did women show off their asses to the entire free world before YouTube? Clearly, this is why Al Gore and Mike Nesmith invented the Internet.

This girl doesnt have the moves, but she doesnt need them with an ass like that!!

Spring is Here and so are the Hotties

2007-04-15T10:36:00.000-06:00

So with the onset of Spring weather I've decided to discuss a topic near and dear to my heart: hot girls. Blonde or brunette, white, latino, asian, or black, tall or short, I don't discriminate. But I have a question for all the hot girls out there. Where do you go during the winter?

This question confounds me every year. I go through the whole seasonal depression as do many because I hate the cold weather and it destroys my soul. If there were beautiful women all around I feel I could manage it better and not think of running away to the Caribbean to become a bartender or cabana boy.

Do good looking girls hibernate like bears all winter long?? Do you acquire boyfriends and simply stay in all winter? Do you hate the cold weather as much as me and refuse to venture out in it? It saddens me that good looking girls disappear in the winter. Girls in nice sweaters is a good look. Girls all bundled up in large coats, hats, and scarves, is also extremely cute. Instead it seems like girls revert to the blah, drab colors in the winter. And the hotties just disappear.

I frequent coffee shops a lot (gotta get the java goin through the veins), and it's clear good looking girls are not there in excess in the winter as opposed to spring. Yes, there are one or two, but not like springtime. Bars and clubs definitely do not impress at all compared to the warmer months either. Even more confusing is the gym. During the winter when everyone gains weight, the gym has less hot girls. I'd figure the girls would be working hard to stay hot over the winter so they can show off in the summer. The gym is absolutely packed now with the onset of the warm weather whereas the crowd was a lot sparser in the winter.

Is there some hot girl paradise in the winter that I am not aware of like in Seinfeld when George discovers the meat-packing warehouse that is a club for beautiful models?? Do girls migrate south like birds and return in the warmer months to their natural habitat? I feel I will never know the truth about this phenomenon. The only reasonable explanation I have is that girls are like camels. They store up all their energy during the winter in anticipation of the summer where they are seemingly everywhere all the time. As I walk around the mall, there are a lot better looking girls shopping. Girls are also packing the gym in droves. Hotties can be seen running down the streets and eating out more. As the weather improves so will come the suntanners and even better, the short skirts and shorts. And, the inevitble showing of the Thong!!! Spring is upon us, and I am happy because the hot girls have returned again this year.

God Bless You ALL!!!

She's got to be a Stripper

2007-04-13T19:42:00.000-06:00

A friend sent me this from YouTube. MY GOD!!! She has got to be a stripper. She just needs a pole and she is good to go.

Nice Tramp Stamp!!

Nice Advertisement

2007-04-10T19:19:00.000-06:00

The Hole - video powered by Metacafe

All I can say is WOW!!!!

Free Advice Saturdays (One Day Early)

2007-04-06T18:04:00.000-06:00

Remember back to last month, when I asked people to send me emails if they needed some advice or clarifications? This wasn't an email, but it was brought up at work today by a girl that is a secretary at one of the buildings on campus. She admits that she is not the most sexually experienced woman in the world. Anyway, we all went out to lunch and talk turned to sex, as it often does when I am around. There were 6 guys and two girls there. She said something to this effect:

"This guy I messed around with told me I give "killer head". What the Hell is that anyway? How many different types of head are there, cuz I hear there's good head, great head, "Oh my God" head, etc etc."

First, she really did say this. Oh how naive we are. Secondly, this was my take on it. See if you agree.

I know a few guys that claim that there's no such thing as a bad blowjob. I have to disagree. Contrary to popular opinion, there is such thing as the male version of "the tap," in which we kinda gently tap our female companion on the head and ask her to take a break because whatever she's doing down there is rapidly becoming like amateur karaoke night. As I see it, a girl's gotta have the skills, certainly -- I don't want to be the one walking some thirty year old liberal arts major through her first blowjob. But if a girl's into it, and by that I mean she seems very, very eager to yummy down on what I'm offering and makes like she won't stop until I've got bedsheets sucked up my ass, then chances are I'm gonna walk away from it feeling as if I've just experienced killer head. So alot of it is in the attitude. But let's be honest, the best way for me to answer this question is to experience your capabilities first hand and then offer my professional dissertation as to which camp you fall into.

Of course she laughed at the last part, which is good because I was just joking with her. I wouldn't let her mouth touch my rod even if it were the last opening I would ever see again. I find her a pain the ass and a little repulsive, but anyway, let me continue.

Then the other girl at lunch added her view on the subject. It went as follows:

"Killer head" means: "more, please." As in, you are the BJ queen, you are the finest pair of luscious lips his lowly member, you are God's gift to fellatio. In other words, he'll say anything, ANYTHING to keep you servicing the sausage (her word). Good head: you actually gave him a blow job. Great head: you didn't use your teeth, and you (pretended) to swallow. "Oh my God" head: you have more suction than a Dirt Devil.

She listened to our explanations so intently, she was genuinely taking in all of the info. She actually said "thanks for clearing that up for me" when we were done. And she is like 27 years old!!

Why I Love Summer

2007-04-04T18:06:00.000-06:00

I should have posted this blog last week, when it was in the 70's. WTF is up with this weather? It is supposed to get in the low 20's every night for the rest of the week. And highs in the low to mid 40's. Screw that!! I am going back to the Tropics!!

OK, I guess I am staying right here in Iowa, but I wish I was off to the beach somewhere warm 12 months of the year. I have been thinking a lot about summer lately. I love summer. "Why??" You ask. Let me tell you:

I can wear flip-flops, shorts, and a tank top all the time.
I don't have to put on layers of clothing then take them off, then put them back on again, then…you get the point.
THONGS!!!
Driving with the windows rolled down and the music pumped up.
Anything involving water (Lakes, swimming pools, hot tubs, rivers, etc.)
Women laying out at the park catching some rays.
Did I already mention THONGS!!
Going for an evening jog.
Drinking a beer while sitting on the back porch and grilling up some ribs
Drinking a beer while at the lake
Drinking a beer while watching a baseball game
Drinking a beer while watching girls in THONGS!!
Women wearing cut off tops and daisy dukes (added bonus if they have a belly button ring and/or a tattoo in the small of their back.)
Bikinis
No classes and students to deal with for a couple of months.
My annual summer trip (past destinations have included Mexico, Honduras, Dominican Republic, Australia, Fiji, and Colombia)
The State Fair
I also love all those little county fairs and city festivals that they have. Some of those are a blast.
Being able to sleep in
Ice cream, chocolate sauce, ice cubes and a hottie.
These are just 20 things. I could probably go on and on. Things like Thongs on the Beach, Low cut jeans and Thongs, etc. But I will stop at 20. Please feel free to comment and add anything that you like about summer. Stay warm, summer is only a month or so away!!

Flexible

2007-04-03T22:30:00.000-06:00

WOW!!! Do you think she could lick your balls while doing it from behind??

Those Tits Could Crush My Dick!!

2007-04-01T19:21:00.000-06:00

The Hole - video powered by Metacafe

This woman is a little scary!! I wouldn't want to piss her off.

NICE RACK!!

2007-04-01T18:47:00.000-06:00

What a MILF!! Cruising around on Flickr and I came across this pic. Great boobs and body, ok face. Definitely do-able. It looks like she is married to some old grey haired sugar daddy guy. Another example of hotties going for the older ugly guys with $$$

Are there any Redheads out there?

2007-03-28T22:42:00.000-06:00

Blondes may have more fun but redheads have more sex, according to new research in Germany.

The study by Hamburg Sex Researcher Professor Dr Werner Habermehl looked at the sex lives of hundreds of German women and compared them with their hair colour.

He said: "The sex lives of women with red hair were clearly more active than those with other hair colour, with more partners and having sex more often than the average. The research shows that the fiery redhead certainly lives up to her reputation."

He added that women who dyed their hair red from another colour were signalling they were looking for a partner, and added: "Even women in a fixed relationship are letting their partners know they are unhappy in the relationship if they dye their hair red. They are saying that they are looking for something better."

Psychologist Christine Baumanns said however that it may not be the women who were to blame for the better sex lives of redheads.

She said: "Red stands for passion and when a man sees a redhead he will think he is dealing with a woman who won't mess around, and gets straight to the point when it comes to sex."

So there you have it. You can rest comfortably assured, now that the scientists have given you solid proof — if you want more sex and maybe even better sex, being a redhead is the way to go, at least in Germany.

Personally, I love all women, no matter their hair color. I have dated every hair color imaginable, and some that aren't (Fuschia and aquablue come to mind). So Redheads, is this true??? What do the blondes and brunettes have to say?

http://technorati.com/claim/yepv5irqtk" rel="me">Technorati Profile

Low Jeans and High Thongs!!!

2007-03-26T21:31:00.000-06:00

As the whole world is sure to know by now, I LOVE THONGS!!!! VIVA LA THONG!!!! But there is one way to ruin the thong. I have never liked the girls that wear those low, low cut jeans and then pull their thong up so you see about 4 inches of thong. It is even worse when they push down the low cut jeans another couple of inches. Come on!!! The magic of the thong is in catching a glimpse of it. Part of what makes thong watching fun is when some chick bends over to pick something up and there it is, the thong!! It appears for a second, then it is gone again. Or maybe when a girl is wearing some tight workout shorts and you can see the outline of the thong underneath. Or a girl wearing jeans and the top of the thong is barely visible. This is excitement. This is what the Thong is all about. Anyway, you get my point. I did find a pic of a girl that found a way to get around the low jeans/high thongs delimma.

I think that is a good and acceptable option. If you aren't gonna wear a thong, don't wear anything at all!!

AHHH Brazil!!

2007-03-22T15:16:00.000-06:00

More Reasons to Love Brazil!!! I need to go back for a visit!!

THE THONG!!!!!!!

2007-03-20T19:40:00.000-06:00

What is it about the power of the thong that to this day -- now that pretty much every female walking the earth is wearing one -- holds men enraptured? Dude, I recall that, in the dark, pre-thong era, seeing a glimmer of some chick's underwear when she bent over was so cool. In high school, if you catching a glimpse of a girls underwear was an achievement that you bragged about to your friends for weeks. Your friends would look at you in awe as you described the color and design of the hot cheerleaders underwear you saw. But seeing underwear 10 years ago never instilled the lascivious, sinister thoughts that somehow the sight of a thong incurs.

Case in point: I just returned from the mall, and one of the girls working at some clothing store was a big girl; not immense, but she had to go at least a good 200 pounds. Every time she bent over, she flashed some big thong action, and every guy within a 50 yard radius would stop and watch, spellbound. I mean, every guy. And not in a "holy shit, look at that" kinda way, but more in a "mmmmmm.... thongs" kinda way. I doubt they were turned on by it. I mean she wasnt exactly a looker. But the guys were turned on by the thong. My friend Brent says a thong automatically raises a girl a point or two on the hotness scale.

It's magic, people. Anyway, to every chick out there wearing a thong today, I salute you.

If You Talk the Talk, You Have to Walk the Walk

2007-03-20T01:50:00.000-06:00

So I spent my Saint Patty's Day at a bar with a few buddies and at one point in the evening, I find myself the only guy at a table with six women discussing their blowjob prowess. Not a bad place to be, if I do say so -- beats the hell out of hearing my Aunts Jenny and Sally debating good deals on panty liners. But in my experience --meager as it may be -- the girls who talk a good game aren't typically all that spectacular when it comes down to action.

Rough Sex Facts

2007-03-19T19:04:00.000-06:00

I originally posted this as a bulletin, and it was fairly popular. So I decided to put it on my blog so you can see it whenever you want.
I think this is reason enough for everyone to start having wild, crazy, sweaty SEX!!!!!

Giving head....... massages the jaw....while burning 32 calories.

Having nice sex burnes 358 calories.

Having rough sex [make it hurt] burns 543 calories.

Take off her clothes
with her consent...........12 cal
without......................187 cal

Take off her Bra
With two hands.........................8 cal
With one hand.........................12 cal
With mouth.............................85 cal

Put on Protection
hard ...........................6 cal
soft..........................315 cal

Foreplay
Looking for target...................8 cal
Finding G spot .....................92 cal
I don't F***ing care................0 cal

Entry
Holding her................12 cal
On the floor.................8 cal

With Different Position
Missionary............................358 cal
Doggy..................................316 cal
69 lying................................286 cal
69 standing...........................512 cal
Italian hanger........................912 cal

Orgasm
Real................................112 cal
Faking.............................315 cal

After "O"
Lying in Bed.....................................18 cal
Hop off the bed.................................36 cal
Wondering why she left pissed off......816 cal

Get dressed
Quiet and calm...............................................32 cal
Rushing.........................................................98 cal
Heard her boyfriend opening the door.............1218 cal
Heard her dad/2 yr old baby sista at the door..1942 cal

I think I may have burned a few million calories having sex during my lifetime!!!!

Figure out how many calories you have burned.

Baby Got Back!!

2007-03-18T22:45:00.000-06:00

Looking good!!! Not sure what those white lines are for, but nice butt!! Had to put this pic in of Eva Longoria's backside. Happy Birthday Eva!! If you ever decide to leave that French basketball guy, give me a call.

What a Messy Kitchen!!

2007-03-17T17:52:00.000-06:00

Is it just me, or did anyone else notice how messy that kitchen is. I hope she is cleaning the fridge!!!

Curly Hair or Big Boobs??

2007-03-10T17:43:00.000-06:00

There's a secretary in my building with the biggest rack ever.

I mean, there's simply no other way to put it. Hindenburg-huge. Preposterously gargantuan. Incapable of being restrained by the strongest of sports bras or tightly-knit sweaters.

And everyone knows this. Her boss knows it. Her coworkers. Every that comes into the building knows "Sarah with the boobs." Christ, the vending machine that spits out our coffee and candy bars knows it.

Folks, her boobs are fucking huge.

So last Thursday, myself and Sarah and her boobs and a few other coworkers find ourselves at the local "TGIFridays" for that most gut-wrenching of office niceties, the birthday lunch. And one of the girls is showing off her new tinted contacts, and she's apparently quite happy because she'd rather men focus on her eyes than what she deemed her "beak-like nose." And Sarah chimes in that she's quite proud of her own deep blue eyes, because, and I quote, "they're the first things guys notice about me."

Not on this planet, baby. Not in this lifetime.

But it did get me thinking. Are we fooling ourselves with what we truly think are our best features? I recall a former girlfriend who had a model-quality arse [how I let that one slip away... it is still a sore subject to this day], but was convinced her impossibly curly blonde hair was what drew myself and countless other guys in.

Hell, I even fool myself. Countless hours in the gym have convinced me that my arms and chest are what keep the ladies coming. But if you ask the ladies, they'll tell you that it's really the fact that I always pick up the bar tab.

It Was a Five Martini Afternoon

2007-03-07T18:44:00.000-06:00

1998 -- Austin, TX.

It Was a 5 Martini Afternoon

It all started innocently enough. There I was, waking up around noon, hung-over from a rough Saturday night of partying with my buddies. I rolled out of bed and hit the couch to watch some football. Maybe it was basketball, but I'm not really sure.

I had on my patented ripped shorts with the US Soccer patch sewed on the side. Ragged, dirty, they were a complete personification of me at that time. After about 2 hours of good couch time, staring blankly at the tube, I thought some cognitive stimulation was in order, so I called a buddy up and asked him over for a few games of chess.

He and I always have some good chess matches, so he was more than happy to oblige. He came over, and he helped himself to the few beers left in my fridge. Now, one man can't drink alone, and there were only a few beers left in the fridge. With a limited supply of barley and hops, and His satisfaction with them, I had to seek other alternatives.

I had some Gin, some vermouth, and some olives, which, mixed together correctly, makes my favorite of all drinks. A dirty beefeater martini...mmmm, I thought nothing of it as I drank one down. Another drink soon followed as we played a few games.

The liquor was definitely effecting the way I played, and after a few close matches, my buddy said he had to get back to his wife. Marriage, such an out-dated institution of checks and balances. But alas, I nonetheless found myself alone.
I did not feel like stopping, so I kept drinking all by myself. One more martini and another and another. People kept calling and, when I told them what I was doing, they were a bit thrown off by the fact that I was drinking martinis alone on a Sunday afternoon.

Just then, a girl that I had been sleeping with stopped by. I can't say that I was digging her very much, as we never dated, and never really talked, and I really didn't care too much for her at all. She felt the same about me. We had a weird relationship. Purely booty call sex! When one of us was bored and horny and alone, we would call the other. She stopped by every now and then for a little horizontal exercise. She had a great body and was freaky as hell.

So, consumed by alcohol, and not really thinking clearly, I took her into the bedroom and did my thing. Any guy who's had the amount of alcohol that I did can attest to the duration of this process. It was a bit rougher and kinkier because of the alcohol involved, as well as the twisted, warped effect that drinking alone has on the mind, however, as always, a lot of fun. It also helps when there's no feeling involved so you can really treat her like she wants to be treated. This girl wanted me to talk dirty to her, call her a slut, bitch, whore. I kind of felt bad calling her those names, but that is what she wanted. FREAKY!!

Afterwards, I had another martini and watched South Park. No Sunday night can be complete without a viewing of South Park. I can't recall which episode, but I can tell you it was funny.

She still hadn't left yet, so after another drink I took her back into the bedroom for another go-round. The duration of this session was much longer than the previous, and much rougher, but I digress. Without my ability to finish the deed, I had to fake coming so she would stop (Yes, guys fake it sometimes too). She left fully satisfied (or at least she faked like she was.)

But I still wasn't done. I called a buddy up and said that we should check out what going on at Sugar´s that evening. There's no single guy, or should I say any guy in their proper frame of mind, who's going to turn down the strip clubs.

Now, let me tell you this. I was in no shape to be seen in public. Still having not showered for the day and all that's happened I put on a cap and my ragged clothes and headed with him to the strip clubs.

I found out one thing. The same people that are at the strip clubs on every other night are there on Sunday as well. I felt overly dressed, even though I was quite the slob. Did you know that the cash machines there only dispense in $50.00 increments and have a 10 dollar surcharge? Well, the percentages told me to take out $200.00.

There I was, the drunken high-roller that all the ladies love. Throwing money around that I couldn't afford, but damn, it was so much fun. Buying the table drinks (there was only 2 of us, but it cost 15 a round) and the like.... boy, was I having fun. I realized at that time that cash in a strip club is one of the highest status symbols a man can have.

I had big ole knockers in my face left and right and was loving every minute of it. Sure, if I were sober, then things would have felt different, but it was Sunday, I was drunk, and it was fun.

Well, one o'clock rolled around and I turned to my friend, but to my horror, he had left. Apparently, he had told me he had to go, and I told him I was okay. "I was living the high life," he reported me saying.

I reached in my pockets and had about two bucks left. I tried to get cash out, but didn't have enough to cover the surcharge. I was in a predicament I knew not how to get out of.

So, I did what any sensible man would do in my situation. I stood outside and asked if any of the bar patrons were going my way as they walked out. It was cold and drizzling, and I had no coat, was in shorts and t-shirt. You know, looking back, I am certain that drunk people don't make the best decisions.

I thought that more of these fine, upstanding citizens in the strip club would have more than wanted to offer me a ride home, but more often than not, they said no. Kind of like the Walt with women. But after about 10 people turned me down, a nicely dressed gentleman in ripped jeans, a nappy beard, and liquor breath said he was headed my way (he kind of looked like Bens women) He was nice to give me a ride home. The conversation wasn't really the most intriguing, but hey, what do you expect?

I got home about 3, woke up at 7, called in sick to work, went back to sleep and didn't wake up until around 4 in the afternoon.

Hot Sex Warning #2

2007-03-07T18:07:00.000-06:00

For those of you who read my Habanero Sex blog. This one is closely related to it. Kind of a similar story with a different girl. This also happened while I lived in Mexico.

This one happened after the habanero incident. I was with this girl in a jacuzzi. We had gone out to a restaurant and had the obligatory chips and salsa. So once again, I had been eating hot peppers, this time chopped up in the salsa. I didnt even think about it.

So, we were in the hot tub messing around. We are getting hot and heavy. I go down on her and also decide to try and give a rim job. She had been begging me to do it and frankly, I thought it was kind of gross. But we had been in the pool at her friends house for about an hour, then snuck off to the hot tub. I figured she was clean. I was also drunk off my ass and horny. These two states and her talking dirty to me in Spanish made me crazy. I probably would have done anything.
Anyway, I am going down on her and lapping up that whole area. She starts to scream. Screams of pain and agony. Once again, I was confused. I had no idea what was going on. She starts cussing me out and slaps me.

Now I start remembering what happened only a year earlier with Claudia. "NO WAY!!! IT CAN'T BE HAPPENING AGAIN" I think to myself. But it was!!! I find out she had gotten a Brazilian Bikini Wax right before we went to dinner. For those who do not know, a Brazilian Wax removes hair from the entire pube region. Front, back, and underneath!!!! The spicy salsa was still in my saliva and it burned the hell out of her sensitive nether regions. Needless to say, we did not have sex that night!!

The Look

2007-03-06T18:47:00.000-06:00

Today, I had to go to downtown Des Moines. First, I hate going down there right around rush hour. All that damn construction coupled with the partially ice covered roads this morning turned a 15 minute trip into a 45 minute trip.

So I get downtown, and all the garages are full. I am going to 801 Grand building (that super tall one). I end up parking near the Federal Building, about 6 blocks away. This will only add to my tardiness!! At least we have a ton of skywalks. I finally get to the building and go up to meet with some people about a presentation I am to do this afternoon. We sit there and talk a few minutes, they give me some info, then they add “You do know that you are presenting before lunch, right?”

I answer “No, but thanks for telling me!”

So I get out of there and take the elevator down 20 some odd stories to the lobby. I am thinking about this damn presentation and what the Hell I am going to say. I thought I would have all morning and lunch to work on it, but now I am screwed.

Although there was another person on the elevator, I took advantage of the general solitude to consider what I was going to speak about and how I would approach the presentation. Mid-thought, probably around the 15th floor, the over 40 "I am a secretary but want people to think I am an executive" bitch decided she would try to strike up a conversation. I don't remember exactly what she said, but it was some bullshit along the lines of "How's it going?" and "Looks like you are busy". Yeah, I’m frickin busy as Hell, bitch. I just got informed I have a major presentation at 11 AM, a presentation that I was going to do at 2:30 for finals, now shut the hell up.  Of course, I didn’t say this, just thought it. I smiled and nodded my head.

Why is it that random people insist on talking to you when stuck in a one-on-one situation? Just because you can't 'maintain' during an awkward silence doesn't mean the rest of the world needs to be hassled with your bullshit. Some of us take advantage of our alone time by contemplating certain issues in life. Leave me the fuck alone...if I make eye contact with you and smile, then I'll talk to you.  I have a default expression on my face that I use when I think someone is a fucking retard. It's hard to describe, but my wife knows it well since she sees the look just about every time we have to deal with the general public. We now refer to it as "The Look".

Sorry, I just had to vent. I am having a bad day!!!!

Sex Klub

2007-03-06T18:35:00.000-06:00

Dallas, TX July 1996

I was dating this girl who was a little wild. She was Bi and loved to party. We were up in Dallas for the weekend and were trying to figure out what to do on a Friday night. We went to Dallas alot and usually, we would just go to some club, dance all night, then have wild sex till the early morning. We were at a restaurant and picked up some newspaper. You know the ones that big cities have that lists all the entertainment, clubs, bars, etc. We came across an add for a place called "The Klub". The add said "adult entertainment for adventurous couples". We were intrigued and decided to check out this place. Turns out it was a "Sex Club". (I prefer sex club to swingers club....swinger sounds so odd and old fashioned).

My girl and I got all dressed up, and headed out to THE KLUB. It had been stormy and rainy all day, and the weather was still crappy...I say this only because that was what I initially blamed the lack of cars at the club when we first got there. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact that we are chronically early for everything. Either way, the place was pretty deserted, and to be perfectly honest looked very scary on the outside. We knew from the add and the website we found for the place that it was a house that was fixed up to be a sex club, but there were no pictures of the outside of the place. It was blandand sort of run down looking. After about a 10 minute debate we decided that it wasn't worth driving clear across town to turn around and just go home....so we went in. It wasn't as fancy or big, very plain. We had mentioned the place to some friends, and we commented that if they didn't show up that night, we'd have to warn them about the outward appearance...it wasn't as bad inside. The first room had a dance floor, tables and chairs, a dancing pole, a few lockers and a fridge. This place did not have a bar, but rather you just stored your alcohol in either a cooler you brought or a fridge and grabbed it when you needed it. Pretty laid back, not necessarily a bad thing. There were munchies and soda in the kitchen, a room with a poker table, a *video* room (two futons and a decent sized tv with porn on) and two mattress rooms. Oh and a Sybian room. I'll get to that in a bit. We found that you could be clothed or naked, dancing or fucking anywhere in the house. With the mattress rooms or the sybian room if the door was closed you left if closed, if the door was open you could watch (I didn't really notice anyone in any of these rooms with the doors open....odd). In the first 30 minutes we were there, we saw at least 4 couples doing it in various places of the club.

Everyone we met was super nice, totally nonjudgemental, very much no pressure, and just plain cool. As the night went on, the crowd got bigger. There were many swingers (two couples in a room, swapping), some voyeurism (couple having sex and letting everyone watch, and there were a couple of small groups of women making out and playing with other women, putting on a show for the men. Some people had brought dildoes and vibrators. I couldn't believe it.

My girl and I danced for about the 1st hour. Oh yea, and we drank a ton!! We were going through the beers. I think we both split a 12 pack in the first half hour. After about 45 minutes, she was down to her hose, garter, thong and bra, and I had my shirt off. She was getting excited and drunk. I couldn't believe what she did next. She was dirty dancing with me and just dropped my pants and started giving me a blowjob. Everyone was watching it. And neither of us cared.

After we finished on the dance floor and she had swallowed and nice shot, we decided to venture around the place and went by the sybian room. Now the sybian and its room....don't know what a sybian is? Go google it, check it out. It is kind of like mechanical bull riding for women!!! She decided she wanted to try it. She got on it and the guy working the machine turned that sucker up all the way. I swear the the damn floors were shaking. Lets just say that thing terrified me! IT looked soo painful, but my girl rode it and was loving it. OOOHing and AAAAHing for a good two minutes. I thought she was going to come. Later, we met an amazingly beautiful woman there...she and my girl went back and played with the sybian together. That was a nice sight.

But I must say, what came after the sybian was much much more enjoyable! We ended up finding a room and I watched as the two of them played around for about 20 minutes, then they yelled at me to jump in. Incredible!!!! We spent about an 1 and a half in that room.

Then we were drained and went back to the motel. We were too tired to do it one more time. We went straight to sleep.

Next night, we almost went back to "THE KLUB", but we met up with some friends. We did end up going back there a couple of other times we went up to Dallas in the next months. Sad news is that this place closed down a couple of months later. We went to check it out in December of 95 and it was closed. In Februrary, we tried again and it had been turned into a Tejano nightclub. Too bad. That place was awesome.

Maybe I will post another adventure or two from there later.

EX-LAX: What a Weapon!!

2007-03-06T01:32:00.000-06:00

I don't think I have ever put this little story in print, ever. I guess I was fearing retribution, but now, screw it!!! It has been like 12 years and I don't care!!!! This took place the first semester of my freshman year.

Chris, my dorm roommate at the time, was taking some strong, prescription acne medicine for his pimple face. He had a smell you could not forget, so I wanted to leave him a memory he could never forget. He was a total prick. Always had to have things his way and no one liked him. I took some pills out of his acne medicine bottle and walked up to the local campus drugstore for a match and after minutes of searching, I found that the look of these pills matched perfectly with some ex-lax type pills.

To execute my scheme properly, I waited three days before our Thanksgiving leave from college and filled the bottle half way with ex-lax pills making sure the ex-lax pills were on top. Within one day he was already in the restroom for hours at a time.

This early success, enticed me into going down to the fireworks shop and purchasing some smoke bombs. For the next couple of days, when Chris would go into the bathroom, I would gently open the door and roll a smoke bomb into the stalls next to him. He was trapped (lest he get up and risk crapping himself) and, therefore, could not get out of the stall to see who was messing with him. His response was typically to scream and gasp, "I am going to kill you!" He would come out of the bathroom and walk down the hall, reeking of the smoke. This only lasted two days and then we were off for Thanksgiving leave.

When Chris came back to the room after the Thanksgiving break I asked him how his Thanksgiving was and he had some stories to tell me. He said he never crapped so much in his life!

Bastard deserved it!!

HABANERO SEX --WARNING!!!!

2007-03-05T18:25:00.000-06:00

Mexico June 2000

While I was living in Mexico, I started sleeping with this one girl who was smoking hot!!! Problem was she was a little immature and could be annoying. Still, the sex was good and we agreed that it was physical, nothing more.

One night, we had gone to a party at a friends house. Both of us had been drinking extraordinary amounts of beer. Then we started some tequila shots. I had probably consumed at least 12 beers and about 5 shots. She was a drinker too. She easily had 8 or 9 beers and 5 shots also. They had the normal chips, tacos, salsas, etc at the party. It was late and someone came up with the idea to have a habanero pepper eating contest. Habaneros are about 100 times hotter than Jalapenos. In fact, they are one of the hottest peppers in the world.

Of course, I was the only guero there, so everyone wanted to see me involved. They thought I couldnt do it. I popped one in, and I was uncomfortable, but it was tolerable. I bit off half of another one, then popped it in. That was all for me. I almost threw up there. I started chugging more beer to put out the fire.

Fast forward back to my apartment, about 1 hour later:

So Claudia and I are starting to get horny. We go straight to the bedroom when we get home and rip our clothes off. She goes down on me for a few minutes then swings her body over me so I am in position for a 69. That is one of our favorite positions. I start working her over with my tongue, then I start fingering her. Within a minute, I hear this screaming. Not screams of ecstasy, but screams of pain. She is in tears and turns to me and asks if I washed my hands after the habanero contests. I wasnt really sure if I had or not. I just turn to her and say Uh, I may have, why? Now she is yelling IT IS BURNING!!!! AWWWWW IT IS BURNING!!! MY GOD!!!!

I am freaking out now. I thought maybe she had some weird STD or something and it went active right at this moment. Are you ok? I ask. Of course, this was a stupid question since she was obviously in pain, but I was drunk and not thinking.

She starts throwing a string of profanities in Spanish at me and runs to the bathroom. She has woken my roommates up. They pop out of their rooms just in time to see her naked, running into the bathroom. They run into my room and ask what is up. I am totally confused.

While Clau is in the shower, I start piecing things together. Apparently, I had some of the Habanero pepper juice still on my fingers. When I started fingering her, I guess the juice somehow got inside her and it started to burn. I couldnt help but laugh a little, although I felt terrible.

She came out of the shower and saw me laughing. Not good. She cussed at me some more in Spanish, then got her clothes on and left.

PS -- I talked to her the next day and she did forgive me. We continued messing around off and on for about a year. She made me vow never to put this story on my website I had then. I figure since this is myspace and I just started this website, I can put it on here. Besides, I know she doesnt have myspace and it has been like 6 years since this happened. I think the statute of limitations has worn out on this one.

Sports Fan's Bill of Rights

2007-03-03T16:06:00.000-06:00

There's a Bill of Rights for U.S. citizens, children, taxpayers, consumers, home owners, travelers, mental patients and animals. Which leaves only one important group without one: sports fans.

Until now!!!!

Amendment I Owners shall make no seat in a stadium narrower than John Madden's butt; nor name said stadium after some soulless brokerage house; nor install trough-style urinals in said stadium without little shelves to set cold beers upon.

Amendment II A good seat being necessary to the pursuit of happiness, any fan may move down to a better one after halftime, including courtside, and not get the hook from a 17-year-old, $5.15-an-hour-making, Clearasil-jonesing usher who thinks a spiffy jacket suddenly makes him a member of the Marines Security Guard.

Amendment III No fan shall suffer strikes, lockouts, seat licensing fees, male cheerleaders, ticket-price hikes after losing seasons, drastic last-minute changes in starting times to accommodate ESPN3, team-logo changes within one year after said fan has plunked down $75 for a jersey with the old logo, mascot arrests, vendors handing over lukewarm beers with thumbs in them, 6'10" yokels wearing novelty cowboy hats in the seat in front of said fan, drunk carnies constantly screaming "Run the flea-flicker!" in said fan's ear, or ejection from the arena or stadium by a security guard because of said fan's T-shirt, even if it says JDOG DATES FARM ANIMALS.

Amendment IV The right of the fan to a short national anthem shall not be violated; nor shall the anthem be "personalized" to hell and back; nor shall said singer be the owner's niece; nor shall the guy in the music booth continue to play Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye or We Will Rock You year after year after year.

Amendment V No fan shall be required to answer questions from spouses, such as why the garbage disposal is still stopped up, during crucial situations, such as the second half; nor shall said spouse interrupt at such times to get a pickle jar opened or to "mention" a "little, teeny-weeny nothing accident" with the new Mustang knowing full well that said fan is only pretending
to listen in such crucial situations, such as SportsCenter.

Amendment VI The fan shall be afforded a fair and speedy baseball game and not suffer through human glaciers like Nomar Garciaparra stepping out of the batter's box to readjust his hat, sleeves, gloves, groin and stirrups after every pitch; nor shall the fan suffer TV camera closeups so tight that said fan can see the piece of spinach on a pitcher's tooth, all the while leaving said fan no idea that the infield has shifted and the first base coach is on fire.

Amendment VII In lawsuits it shall be judged that any ball, bat or muffler that ends up in the seats shall be permanently the property of the fan who first comes into possession of it, not the meathead who wrestles it away. In case of said wrestling away, said meathead will be subdued, stripped, wrapped in the Iraqi flag and dropped off at the nearest Harley bar.

Amendment VIII There shall be no such thing as a traffic lane between the TV and the fan watching the game. Use the off-ramp behind the sofa. In addition chips, wings and cold beer shall be readily available to said fan, though rising to get said items shall not constitute an offer by said fan to get same for lard-ass brothers-in-law in close proximity.

Amendment IX No fan shall be made to feel like a jerk just for wanting to shake the hand of an athlete said fan has spent all his time and money idolizing, just because said athlete happens to be 7'1" and 325 pounds with footwork Baryshnikov would've guzzled turpentine for.

Amendment X The fan shall not suffer parking places that are $4 cab rides to the arena door; nor shall the cost of four tickets, four hot dogs, four sodas, four programs and four souvenir hats to any game exceed that of a 2003 Ford Focus; nor shall old phone books, sliced diagonally, slathered in picante sauce and topped with green goo, be sold as a $9.95 Fiesta Mexicana; nor shall the beer be anything but very, very cold.

It would also be nice if somebody explained the Davis Cup to the fan, preferably Anna Kournikova.

These powers delegated to the fan shall not be construed to mean that said fan can streak, holler "You da Man!", participate in Father-Son Night pummelings, ask for autographs if over the age of 12, or wear those hideous striped Zubaz pants.

Now, lets work to get these into law!!!!

Living With a Stripper -- What I Think It Would Be Like

2007-03-02T18:58:00.000-06:00

I wrote this one back in 1991. I was trying to figure out what it would be like to live with a stripper. I was just starting to hang around Strip clubs in Austin, Dallas, and San Antonio. Little did I know I would date a few strippers later in life. I even lived with two.

Soon, I will post a blog about what it was like to actually live with a stripper. You can compare my preconceptions with reality. Enjoy!!

LIVING WITH A STRIPPPER -- MY THOUGHTS ON HOW IT WOULD BE

Not that I can ever say that I've lived with a stripper, or even dated one before, but my imagination is quite remarkable, and I could only imagine what it would be like to date a stripper.

The fact that she would work late hours is, of course, inevitable. Coming home at 4:00 am when you have to work at 8, wanting to chat and be held. She would explain what a rough night of work she had, how her ass simply didn't look as good as it normally does, and how she just didn't give the audience enough boobies in the face like she's used to.

But while she wasn't at work, what would life be like? I mean, would she want to dance on the table every morning for breakfast?

I think that having any kinds of tables in the house would definitely promote behavior you may not want on a constant basis. Every hour, she would be on the coffee table stripping, forcing you to give up your single bills. You would take out the kitchen table, only to find her on top of the end table. She would constantly be telling you, "honey, don't you think a fire pole would look great here?"

You would have to stop by the bank more often to make sure you had plenty of singles on you. You would always be asking your buddies, "hey, I'll give you a ten for ten singles," or "hey, you got any singles on you." In fact, it would trickle down to the fact that your friends will always save their singles for you.

That AC/DC and other heavy metal that you love so much is out. No more of that. You couldn't play that music without her jumping up and starting to remove her clothes. Which brings us to another point....your buddies would come over and, while your not looking, put the music on. Your girlfriend's Pavlovian instincts would take over and, boom, there she is on the coffee table again.

Of course, there could be an upside. I mean, it would be great to have a girlfriend confident enough to strip for you every night. You would know that a couple of dollars in your pocket, and an AC/DC CD would definitely get you in the mood, if nothing else.

Making a Theory Into Law (and THONGS!!!)

2007-03-02T16:00:00.000-06:00

This was on my old website. The actual event happened in 1995, if memory serves me correct.

Making a Theory into Law

I wouldn't even call it road-rash; I've had carpet-burns that looked worse than this. But let me qualify all of this by saying that I was hoping for much more. I started a new teaching job around two months ago, and part of the deal with starting a new job is that you have no time off for the first 90 days. For those of you in Canada who can't do the math, 90 days is three months and that means I have another 30 days, or another month, before I can take some time off. Anyone who knows me knows I am all about taking time off, coming to work late, leaving work early, working on the web page during work, and thinking about not being at work while I am in fact at work. I figured that breaking a major appendage while on a road-trip would be the perfect excuse for me to take some time off and get to relax. But I failed miserably.

But the weekend road-trip wasn't a total failure; I did prove a theory of mine. That's right; I turned a theory into law. It is now unbreakable, and punishable by courts. You may have gotten the impression that I do pretty well with the ladies. That is true for the most part, at least romantically, but ladies that I am not involved with romantically or sexually sometimes tend to find me as a bit harsh and abrasive, and I've often wondered why that is. My theory (now a law) doesn't explain why that is, only when it happens. Typically, my experiences with the fairer sex in non-physical capacities have all started well enough and then horribly careened out of control until one of us is left in tears or cussing the other out. I have found that this downhill process has to do with the number 4. It always occurs in the 4th hour, 4th day, 4th week, etc. For some reason this paranormal 4th hour has plagued me my entire adult life.

During my road-trip where I was intending to seriously injure myself, I was in a car with 3 other stand-up, honest, male individuals... and one female. Like my theory goes, all is well for the first 3 hours and 59 minutes, then it happens. We were talking about college football after seeing a game and I mentioned that I watched a particular game that they were discussing. I explained that I was just sitting at a bar, eating food and watching the game when a hottie contest broke out. I was a victim of hottie fever, what the hell was I supposed to do? I was a spectator at one of the most strategically sound coups ever. The hottie wasn't going to win until she played the "thong card". Just like an Olympic champion, the thong-girl knew what it would take to win; she dug deep and found the courage to do what had to be done. As the saying goes: the thong always wins.

Needless to say, the girl in the care with us became very upset with me. Why get upset with me? I wasn't wearing the thong! She pointed out that mentioning the word "thong" in context with a female was degrading to her gender. I said that guys in San Francisco wear thongs and I don't find it degrading (Check that, I find it utterly disgusting, but I didn't want to make things worse so I tried a little diplomacy to try and smooth the situation). I would think calling her "harpy" would be degrading; "thong" is just a word.

Then she said, "that shit isn't cool", and thought evil thoughts about me while staring at the back of my head. I've never seen a chick this upset, ever. She was livid. I'm just lucky that she was female and was probably incompetent with firearms (I found out later in life that some females are too competent with firearms, but that is another story).

Then she called me a "pig". She didn't call me a pig to my face, but she did call me a pig. I think the female population needs to take a long hard look inwards. First they wear the thong, and then they get upset at me because of it. Why the dichotomy? Where is the compassion? We should be celebrating the thong, not calling me a pig! The thong equals power. The thong-girl is going to get a lot farther in life than the nasty pig-calling girl. I think she feared the thong. Viva la thong!

Sex in the City -- Not what you are thinking!!

2007-03-01T18:40:00.000-06:00

I was friends with this hottie a few years ago and she had won a weekend trip to NYC. She invited me along. "Damn!!", I thought, she is finally falling for me!! Why else would she invite me along.

I am not a big NYC fan. It is nice to visit, but I could never live there. Too many people, taxi's, noise, and rude assholes. Don't know why, but everytime I have been there, people tended to be rude to me and the people I travelled with. If we asked for directions, they would look at us like idiots. If we would ask someone for a good Italian Restaurant, they would say "Look in the phone book!!! There are thousands of em here in New York!!!" WHATEVER!!

To make this short, the first two days were pretty cool. We went to the Museum of Art, a Broadway play, partying at clubs, etc. We got drunk!! Messed around a little. I was making progress.

But the last full day was horrible. She wanted to surprise me with a special tour. I am all for surprises and I thought maybe this was the breakthrough. She was planning a romantic day together. Something unforgettable.

We ate a brunch at the Waldorf Astoria hotel. One of the best brunches I have ever had. Then we went to near Times Square to get on a tour bus. I had no clue what the tour was. It was mostly women on the tour, so I thought it couldnt be all that bad.

The tour gets started with a video of scenes from the TV show "Sex in the City"
"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" I thought!!

Turns out she had booked a tour to see the sights shown on that stupid TV show. IT was a sex in the city tour!! The whole time we were in NY she had been relating parts of it to the series"this is where Carrie might have been" etc. She was addicted to that show. So here we are on this tour. I am already on the bus and wishing to get off. But it is moving. DAMN!!!

It ended up being a 3 hour tour of some of the sex in the city filming locations. There were several times I almost made a run for it when we had stopped. I decided at one stop to by a 20 oz beer to take on the bus. I figured maybe I could get drunk and at least enjoy it a little.

They tourguide said "You!!! No alcohol on the bus!!"

I countered and tried to rationalize with him "Isn't this whole show about sex, alcohol, and having a good time?"

The tour lady was not amused. I went off the bus and pretended to throw it away, but I managed to sneak it back on and chugged it down before the next stop.
I openly voiced my displeasure at this tour. The tour guide was a loony -she knew her sex in the city stuff.They even had tv monitors in the bus to show cuts of scenes to refresh your memory after she pointed out the actual location. We stopped into the adult shop where Charlotte bought her rabbit and my girl got a sex in the city board game. I didn't even know they had a board game!!!!

We also stopped and had a famous cupcake (The cupcake wasnt that great BTW) and then walked to Carries apartments stoop for photos . The last stop we had was cosmos(not sure if that is right, I am not up on this Sex City lingo!!!!) in Aidan and Steves bar Scout

It was a shitty tour, unless you were a fan of that show. I kept making stupid comments and putting the show down. I thought maybe I could get kicked off the tour and end my misery!! Didnt work. I had to stick it out. OH MY GOD!!! I was so bored and annoyed. My girl didnt even notice. She was so into the tour.

I cannot believe people get this into TV shows. The tourguide said they run one tour each evening during the week and four tours on Sat and Sun. And they almost always sell out.

Anyway, this ruined the last day of the trip. She kept apologizing, saying she thought I watched the show!!!!! I asked her to think of a time I even mentioned that show and she could only think of one (I kept saying that Sara Parker Bitch is an anorexic Whore!!!) and she took that to assume I watch it. I dont think I have even seen one whole show. To me, it seems like a chick TV show.

My Denny's Story

2007-03-01T14:26:00.000-06:00

This happened in May of 1995:

I am known on local systems as the King of Denny's, because I have achieved that honored goal of being banned from a Denny's in San Antonio, TX. for life. For Life.
So, without further ado, I most humbly present My infamous biographical story entitled Denny's at 2AM.

Denny's, right before 2am, is a fairly quiet place. Aside from the bathroom vermin and other customers scurrying around, there isn't much there. There's the manager sitting at the counter working on his eighteenth cup of coffee, the Denny's waitpersons (to be politically correct) standing around talking, and the cooks dredging up phlegm from their lungs, spitting onto the grill and watching it crackle. There are a few customers around, mostly dazed college students like myself.

Then, 2AM. This is a special time, as the bars have just closed. In minutes, many late '70's domestic cars will swerve into the parking lot, their inebriated contents hungering for a Grand Slam, or maybe just looking for a cup of coffee to pass out in. After a few moments of searching, they finally get the doors open, and stumble into the cheery restaurant. They look a bit ill. Most are Denny's veterans, however, and could probably swallow a live hamster with no digestive trauma.

Eventually, they are seated. Most of the table light cigarettes, but the single non-smoker is invariably seated in the center of the group. Eventually, the intrepid waitperson walks over, and asks if they want coffee. Asks. Our waithero(ine) could have asked if they'd like a cup of gold. They all do, except the non-smoker, who wants herbal tea. This health freak hasn't yet realized that anything served in a greasy mug is toxic.

They get their coffee, a thoroughly evil substance that looks and smells like thin mud, but is evidently composed of materials with much higher atomic numbers than the components of anything organic. No one is sure what it is, but a team of Dennysologists have discovered that it will dissolve a nail in just under an hour. They have also discovered that exposure creates an effect vaguely similar to brain death.

After a few moments, the waitperson returns to take their orders. There are many Grand Splat breakfasts to choose from, but tonight the Harvest Slam is the favorite. For the uninitiated, this is the most evil breakfast item on the menu. It supersedes even the legendary Southern Slam, which features blobs of flour and yeast jokingly referred to as ``biscuits,'' covered with what looks like vomit after a meal of cat food and Cream of Wheat. The Harvest Splat, as previously stated, is worse. This features pancakes, but not the regular mushy discs of toxin that are normal Denny's pancakes. These are slightly darker in appearance. The taste brings to mind the odor of a stack of burning truck tires. The texture is a real treat, as some genius decided to put walnut pieces in the batter. They have no taste, but do give the disconcerting sensation of feeling as if you broke a tooth, and the piece is floating around your mouth. The ``pancakes'' have a strange coating over them, a thick yellow liquid with shriveled apple pieces floating in it. Avoid this at all costs; the fumes can damage sensitive sinus linings. Next to the ``pancakes'' there is a section devoted to the ``eggs,'' usually scrambled. These are truly fascinating. They are covered with water, but are somehow dry and crackly. They clump together for survival. They are an even, unnatural yellow. They shrivel up if you add salt. Finally, there are two pork fat strips, er, bacon, and two small brown sausages linked along one side, that resemble aged bowel movements more than anything else. Crude, but true. The contents of these are unknown. Spectrographic analysis by Dennysologists has so far proved inconclusive. This rounds out the entree.

At this point, the restaurant is quickly filling with drunken customers. As the table previously mentioned begins to eat, several other groups enter, and repeat the same ritual, or one very much like it. They have a longer wait, however, as the waitpeople are taking a cigarette break. Steam is rising from the kitchen, as the mysterious cooks, little more than heads with funny caps to the customers, bob around behind the counter.

Leaving before the brawl begins is a good idea. The manager has already slipped out the back door, just hope you have received your bill by then. After that, all that is needed is to go home and pump your stomach.

Hot Bartenders -- A New Guy Rule

2007-02-27T16:51:00.000-06:00

Last night was poker night again. The conversation steered towards bartenders. I am not talking about those dudes that listen to us blabber and keep our glasses full. Hell no!! That would be boring, and a little strange for a bunch of guys to be talking about. We started talking about those super Hottie bartenders that are so prevalent in the local drinking establishments all over the country. I am talking about the ladies that could work at Hooters during the day and then bartend at some club during the night. These babes are incredible.

Before I get to the meat and potatoes of this blog, let me ask the guys a question. Would you rather hire a bartender that can mix every known drink on the planet and do all those fancy schmancy bartending tricks that Tom Cruise did in "Cocktail" or would you rather hire the hot babe with the boob job and the perfect ass?? Come on… this shouldn't take too long. There you go!! Of course you would hire the Hottie. That is why "Coyote Ugly" is one of the best movies of all time!!

Anyway, the guys started talking about trying to pick up some of these hottie bartenders in the clubs around town. I couldn't believe my ears!! These guys are so naïve, I felt sorry for them (Most of them are at least 4 or 5 years younger, Shit, I feel like a wiseman)

After several of the guys had spent about 15 minutes rambling on about their failed attempts to pick up these goddesses of alcohol, I had to jump in. I informed them that it ain't going to happen. "How do I know?" was asked. Well, let me tell you.

When I lived in Austin, I was lucky enough to date a hot bartender and sometimes shot girl (No, we didn't meet in the bar). I dated her off and on for over a year. It was about the third week we were dating and I told her I was going to stop by the club she was working at. She sat me down and said "Don't get mad or jealous when you see me there."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. She proceeded to tell me all about her life as being a female bartender. She told me how she wears her tightest jean-shorts and a tight shirt that showed her ample bosom. She told me how she would flirt with the guys, listen to them, tell them they were cute, do shots with them, etc. She would come home with the phone numbers of 4 or 5 guys and crumple them up and toss them in the trash. Why did she do this? For the $$$. On a good Friday or Saturday night, she could make $300+ in tips. She guessed that she made close to $1000 a week in tips. Hell, that is more than I make and I have a master's degree!! (BTW: She went on to become a bartender at the Coyote Ugly in Austin. If you ever watched the Coyote Ugly search on CMT, she was on there. Still working there last I heard. If you go there, tell Cheryl that Eric says Hi from Iowa. She may laugh or slap you, so be careful)

You see, a bartender plays the male species just like a stripper does. They tell listen to us, they tell us we are hot and are good dancers, they drink with us, they laugh at our lame jokes, and always have a huge smile (If you ever actually get to look at their face).

So, the meat and potatoes of this blog is a new Man Rule. This rule will be official for all guys that go to bars and clubs with Hot as Hell bartenders. That rule is: Hot Chick Bartender is Not Going to Fuck You.

Seriously. I know this. Not only did I date a bartender, I also have tried to pick up numerous Hooter type bartenders. After 6 beers and a few Jack and Cokes, I'm drooling over the chica behind the bar, telling her for the hundreth time that I'm crazy about her and want to start a family with her or at the very least, bury my head between her legs for a good half hour. And when I stop to take a sip, or breathe, or sometimes vomit, there are six other guys who chime in with the same gameplan.

See, the bartender is the only woman in the bar who has to talk to us guys. At least, she has to acknowledge us. No one else has any such obligation. So the bartender hears it. And if she's ridiculously hot, like our friend in the photo above, she hears it non-stop, start of the shift right up to last call. Drunken idiots in our Old Navy shirts, thinking we can score the babe who's working the tap. Or that we're the first guy in the world who's told her that joke or complimented her on her ridiculously tight, round ass. Or that we're the only dude she's ever shown that tattoo.

But in the end, it's always the same. Her Levi's get stuffed with tips. I walk out with nothin' but a headache. And a raging hard-on. And it's go home, puke, take the intravenous Vitamin C, H2O and aspirin exlixir, then come back again tomorrow because I'm sure she'll eventually cave. We men never learn!!!

Sex Search

2007-02-24T19:54:00.000-06:00

I am completely bored while in a grad school course. The teacher lectures in a monotone that would put a kid with ADD to sleep. MY GOD!!!

So I am messaging my buddies and we were talking about all the stupid porn sites that are popping up on Myspace. I dont know how they do it, but some people have direct links to them. You click to send them a message or add them, or a bulletin and you are directly transported to some "LIVE WEBCAM GIRLS" site or "HOT GIRLS CUMMING FOR YOU" site.

Now, I admit I occasionally check out a porn site or two, but I am not an addict or anything. Anyway, we are messaging about how many porn sites there are and we decide to kill time by doing some research. We each take a term and decide to do a search for that term. There are 4 of us, so we take 4 terms: Sex, porn, fuck, and XXX. We decide to do a search on Google and Yahoo for each term. I get assigned SEX for my homework.

So I start my search on Google. Within 0.05 seconds, I got the results 1 - 10 of about 77,700,000 for sex. This was the result for my search in the category Web. Now let's move on and try out the other categories... in the category Images my search for sex already took a little bit longer (0.06 seconds) and delivered me results 1 - 20 of about 1,960,000 for sex. SafeSearch was off. Ok, next category: Groups. 0.33 seconds and got the results 1 - 10 of 10,700,000 for the keyword sex. Did you realize something? For the categories Web and Images, the results were always "about" - now for the Groups I get the results without any "about". Don't know if that has some sort of major signifigance or not. Let's do our final search for sex now in the category News. Within 0.32 results 1 - 10 of about 50,200 for sex. Now it again "about". So only within the category Groups, the results are exactly? That is weird.

So here is the breakdown for Google:

Web: about 77,700,000 results for sex
Images: about 1,960,000 results for sex
Groups: 10,700,000 results for sex
News: about 50,200 results for sex
But what about Yahoo? Does Yahoo get the same number of results for sex? Let's try it out...

I start again with the Category Web and entered "sex" into the searchmask. 0.01 seconds and I had results 1 - 10 of about 313,000,000 for sex. Let's move on to the category Images. This category gives me results 1 - 20 of about 7,676,451 for sex within 0.04 seconds. On Yahoo we have a new category Video, so I checked this out too: the search took 0.04 seconds and gave me 280,799 results for sex. Another category we didnt have on Google is Directory, which has just 4,299 results for sex. The next one we can compare again: News. Within this category there are 32,100 results for sex. A very interesting one was the last category Shopping. I would have expected at least some results here - but: 0 results for sex. So where are all the sex-shops?!

Here again the results for the keyword sex at Yahoo, of the categories we also have at Google:

Web: about 313,000,000 results for sex
Images: about 7,676,451 results for sex
News: 32,100 results for sex

So in general it seems, for the keyword sex, Yahoo is the winner actually in the categories Web and Images. Google is the winner in the category News.
Of course there are a lot of other search engines out there too - but did not have the time to check 'em out all and Google and Yahoo are my favorite ones, if I am looking for something on the web

Anyway, I am posting my results. I am going to wait and see if my research colleagues did their part. Hopefully, I will get some info from them to post in the near future. We are all in this class, but at different sites. It is a TV type course. Two of the guys couldnt search for their words since it was blocked at the school site they were at. They promise they will get it done tonight.

I guess that is it. Man, I am soooooo bored!!!!!!! If anyone wants any other search comparisons, post them. Maybe I can do some type of research paper on internet sex searches. Maybe we are becoming a perverse society!!!!! ;)

Troublesome Tiddies

2007-02-21T09:50:00.000-06:00

Here is another blog I had posted on my old website. I am going through some of the old stuff I had posted way back when. I will keep mixing in some of the old classic posts with some of my new ones.

I am the man. And it’s damn good to be the man. Saturday afternoon we took our daughter, Victoria, to the mall to play in the kid’s area. I sent the wife away, told her to go buy some decent clothes for god’s sake, and started scoping the honeys. Oh yes, daddy found him a redhead. Remember, we can look, but not touch. No harm in that. The ladies do it to us all the time, right?

I spotted her sitting a quarter way around the encircled area. I knew better than to make eye contact but she was apparently nippy and I couldn’t help myself. Was she even wearing a bra?? My God!! That’s when I glanced a few inches higher and realized she was staring back.

Busted.

Hate when that happens. Why can’t women wear padded bras? It’s all their fault. Had little miss Strawberry Shortcake over there been a responsible human being she would have thought ahead and padded those sons of bitches and this shit would have never happened. It’s not my-

Oh, shit.

Dude, she’s coming over.

No fuck.

Run, man, run!

What about Vica?

She’s cute. She’ll find a ride. Get your ass up and go!

“Hi. Mind if I sit down?”

“Not at all. Have a seat.”

You’re fucked now.

Go to hell.

“I’m Rachel.”

I shook her hand, but all I could think about was what I was going to tell my wife when she came back. I mean I have looked and flirted with a lot of ladies while married, but I rarely ever talk to any. “Eric. Nice to meet you.”

“Here with your daughter?”

She flipped her hair and smiled sweetly and nearly poked my eye out with those hypothermic nipples I was trying too fucking hard not to be caught looking at.

“Yes, I am. I wanted to take her out and have some fun. With this rain, she hasn’t been able to do anything”

There you go. Endear yourself to her.

“That is so sweet!”

Now tell her it was your wife’s idea.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

Your pregnant wife. (My wife was 7 months pregnant with our son)

“Sweet.”

Sweet jackass. Bail, dude. Before she comes back and you never get laid again till death do you part.

For the next 15 minutes I sat and half listened as my gaze shifted from Vica, the direction I last saw wifey, and Strawberry Shortcake’s diamond cutters, which seemed to be getting larger by the minute.

In fact, I was convinced I could see them becoming more and more defined the longer I stared. Jesus Christ, is it 27 degrees in here? Those can’t be real. Do they make nipple implants? And then she said to me, “Even gold does it. Know what I mean?”

Uh oh.

LOLOLOLOLOL!

Shut the fuck up. What in the hell is she talking about? “Um, no, I guess I don’t.”

Smooth.

Not bad, huh?

“See look.” She lifted her hair and turned her back to me so I could see the back of her neck. Umm. Hmm. “Do you see the rash?”

“Oh! Yes. Right there. Yes, ma’am. Thanks.” What the fuck?

She turned around and pulled the neckline of her shirt down to show me the top of her holyshit very creamy, smooth globes which I did not notice one damn bit where the fuck is my wife it’s about to pop out oh my god here comes Vica lady please put that thing away before you get us both shot up in here when the extremely pregnant brunette comes back and finds you oh jesus is that an areola?

“Everywhere my necklace touched I got this rash. See, right here?”

She’s gonna eat you alive. You know she’s nearby.

“That’s a damn shame. Maybe you should try sterling silver.”

Another painful minute or two passed before she grabbed for her purse and handed me a business card. I can’t even remember what she said when she handed it to me. All I knew is she and her troublesome tits could not leave fast enough.

But I saved the card. I never called her, but I showed it to my friends just in case they, too, might have forgotten I’m the man.

I Guess I can Learn to Love My Enemy

2007-02-20T11:47:00.000-06:00

It's not who you root for, it's how you dress. I am a Longhorn fan!! Hook em Horns!!! As anyone who knows anything about college sports knows, Longhorns cant stand Oklahoma Sooner fans and Texas A&M fans. But, I have to admit, these two OU fans can sit next to me anytime they want. I will buy both of you all the beer (or in this case coke and water) that you want!!! I hope to see you at next years Red River Rivalry!

BTW: This pic was actually taken at a UT OU baseball game this spring. Damn, I wish I was back in College!!!!

Vegas Baby Vegas

2007-02-18T16:31:00.000-06:00

This one is a long one, but entertaining. It happened in 2001 and was posted on my previous website (Which has since disappeared thanks to a crappy server that couldnt do anything right!!) Anyway, enjoy!!!

Now, this actually started on a Saturday afternoon, but ended Sunday morning, so I figure this could be a drunk on Sunday story.

Vegas, ca. 2001: Its Saturday around 2pm, and we've just left Circus Circus. Have you ever been there? I have mixed feelings on the place. First off, it's like a second rate casino in the middle of babylon. But damn if that clown out front doesn't really pressure you into going in. He looks happy and jubilant, but there is no question that he is forcefully directing you to game at the Circus Circus Casino.

Well, we really couldn't keep ourselves from going in and gambling. Hell, you're in Vegas, what else is there? I could have spent the new millennium in Vegas, and had someone asked how it was, my response would have been something like "man, I had a hard 16 and the dealer dealt me a 5, it was incredible."

There were three of us. Somehow the 20 people that had shown up for our friend's bachelor party just werent around at this point. I'm sure we could have found them on some table somewhere. Hell we just drove up from Texas to crash the party, and the third in our particular party had flown in from San Francisco for the gig.

Anyway, we had some drinks while playing blackjack, which I believe we were all up. Interesting comment by the Pit Boss, "Man, I never put more than 10.00 gas in my car. If gas was 10.00/gallon, I'd have to keep stopping to put in another gallon." I dont know why, but that comment has been stuck in my head for a year. Anyway, I digress.

Have you ever checked out the big Circus tent, The Adventuredome, in Circus Circus? Dude, it's like an amusement park. This was my first time visiting Circus Circus in Vegas (Even though I had been to Vegas at least 20 times before, I never wanted to lower myself to that place). I had been to Reno where some kind blackjack dealer gave us the low down on the ranches in the area, but Ive never seen anything like this. As Ice Cube would say "I was getting overwhelmed by Bebe's kids."

After winning some deformed coffee mug at some contest, and enjoying a good hot dog, I had to get the hell out of that place, so we took the glasses our drinks were in (which I could serve you out of if you humbled me with your presence at my pad) and took off.

Down to the Bellagio, for no real apparent reason. But what we discovered was the backdoor to Vegas. You know how they give you free drinks when you gaming, which sometimes can come to about 20.00/drink if you're not careful? Well, we hit the Sportsbook in the Bellagio for some gambling on the ponies.

First off, if you go at the right time, you're one of only a handful of people there. Secondly, the Bellagio has the hottest waitress' in the world, I'm convinced of that fact, and they're in plenty, which is even better.

So, what you can do is sit there and bet a couple dollars on the ponies here and there over the course of say 5 hours, and get free drinks all the while you're there. So you get loaded at very little or no cash expense to yourself.

Well, we sat there for a good while getting loaded. One waitress would come by every 10 minutes, and I must say I still talk about that girl with fond admiration and as a level of beauty which I compare others too. God Bless her mother and father for bringing her into this world. Of course, it could have been the drinking, but I'm sticking with my original story.

Another waitress would come by every 10 minutes, but staggered between the other girls stops. Now, my buddy Brent and I could not help but to get a drink every time she stopped by. Hell, why wouldn't you? It's free (for the most part). I'll never forget seeing his eyes when he realized that we could get shots for free from them. It was as if he was seeing for the first time. It was beautiful to be there for that moment.

After tying a really good one on (Im sure my speech was slurring badly at this point) I met up with a friend of mine at the poker tables. He's an old buddy of mine from my band days back in Texas, and I know anytime I'm in Vegas, he'll be at the Bellagio Poker Room. It's a given.

We drank some more as we played some blackjack. The local native friend of mine had gotten drilled for about a grand in 20 minutes, so he left in a hurry and we bid adieu. However, I was doing okay on my table, and we were having more and more drinks.

This is where I found out that Hasim Rachman had knocked out Lennox Lewis down in South Africa to take the heavyweight title, at 15-1 odds no doubt. Damn I was an idiot for not taking the gamble on that one, but who would really?

So we get drunker. I like to think that there should be a term called Vegas Drunk. Because drinking in Vegas is like drinking nowhere else in the world. You don't know you're drunk, can't tell what time it is, how drunk you are, how dumb you are. I mean, Vegas really knows what theyre doing to shadow your senses to your own stupidity. But damn, I love it so.

We leave the Bellagio drunk as a skunk and head over to Paris Casino across the road. Along the way, one of us comes up with the brilliant plan: "I think it's time to bet big." Now, saying this to some drunken gamers is an easy way to test the limits of your pocketbook quickly. I think it's about 9pm now, and we're stumbling across the road.

Going into the Paris Casino through Bally's Walking Escalator one will become hypnotized...you sit there on this escalator going into the casino as a soothing voice says out speakers "close your eyes, listen to my voice. Today you're going to win like you've never won before."

I don't know why we didn't bet at Bally's because I know that guy was right, but we went to Paris, which is adjoining Bally's. By the way, did you know that if you ever want to see anything in the world, you can find it in Vegas? I saw the Eiffel Tower there, and now I have no reason to travel across the Atlantic.

So we "bet big" at Paris. "Betting big" is a relative term, but to us that meant about 100.00 hands in blackjack. After about 20 minutes I was down about 800.00 and pretty pissed off. Time to hit the craps table.

But before the craps table, I had to take care of some business in the world-class bathrooms there. I recommend the Paris Casino for all your toilet needs while you're in Vegas.

However, as a drunk might do, I walked out of the bathroom and through the casino with toilet paper on my shoes, trailing me as I walked around. The only reason I could finally figure out what everyone is looking at was my friend's laughing so hard at me. They usually don't laugh that hard, so a quick perusal of my person found the problem. Hell, it was pretty funny for me.

Well, I called some girl a whore at the craps table. I think that was rock bottom for me that evening. She didn't deserve it, and I apologized, but the French inspired Paris Casino had the manners and pissy attitude of the French, and I was getting drilled left and right. I wasn't sure how I was going to pay for the ride home to be honest.

On our way back to the MGM Grand, where I had room on the floor of a room reserved for the bachelor party, we decided to do shots at every bar we could find. Now, in Vegas there are a lot of bars. I remember dancing to some crap at some casino somewhere at some point.

We stopped at every place and did Tequila and Jaggermeister everywhere. Not a good combo. We had no idea what time it was, where we were, or what was really going on. I do remember the Monte Carlo. I swear to this day that a Steve Martin look-alike was working behind the bar, but my companions disagreed with me on that one. When I asked him about it, he said that he never heard that before. I'm sticking to my story though.

This Steve Martin look alike advised us that if we wanted to locate some women that we'd probably want to go to this brewery in the Monte Carlo Casino, so off we went. My buddy Brent and I went in, showed our ID's and went on in. Both of us commented on how hard they had carded us, but went in and ordered three Alabama Slammers.

Waiting for our buddy Matt to come on in got tiresome, so we offered his shot to one of the girl's that were milling around us. Conversing with the girls, they asked where our other friend was. We nonchalantly, half joking but half serious, said, "oh, he's probably being detained by the cops, or in jail, but we're not really sure."

A couple minutes later Matt showed up, pissed as all can be, talking about how the cops detained him at the door. I can not do justice to his anger at that particular moment, so I won't try, but he went on to explain what happened: They took my ID and claimed it wasn't me, and then waved some cops over. They had be backed up to a wall, and 4 cops surrounded me. they kept questioning me about when I graduated (then proceeded to say I couldn't graduate that year) and all about everything. Man I was so pissed. I thought about trying to break my way out, but I didn't.

I wish I could do justice to the pleasure the story gave me at the time, but I cannot. I hardly remember all of it.

We went on down the street making our way to the MGM. Somehow, a group of about 4 guys were really enamored with us, and said that they wanted to buy us drinks down at Mandalay Bay. I'm always down for free drinks, but there was also a Fatburger along the way. So, I ran across the street and saw my life flash in front of my eyes as a car came flying around the corner. Dude, I had to jump out of they way of that car, and had I not jumped, I'm sure an extended stay in a Las Vegas hospital would have been in order.

But I got my fatburger and rootbeerfloat, ate it on the curb on the strip and headed back down to the MGM where the other guys were. Found them on the tables, gambled a bit and then to the bar again.

It was about 4-5am at this point, and we went into some argument about the fight (Lewis rachman). At this point I thought about trying to pick up one of the nice ladies sitting at the bar to go back to my room with me, but the thought of where (there were 10 people staying in the hotel room) to take care of business evaded my capabilities at that point.

Of course, I can't even be sure if they would have gone, and a slap could have happened with any kind try...I don't know how all that works anyway.

So I went to sleep on the floor of the hotel room. Woke up the next morning, made a lot of my money back the hour before we left, Brent and I got in my pickup and made the long drive back to Texas after dropping Phil off at the Airport.

Vegas, I love you!

While Her Boyfriend was Watching

2007-02-18T14:30:00.000-06:00

This one was written back in January of 2000. It was on my previous website, which has now gone by the wayside. Enjoy!

I'll try to keep this one short. Last Friday, I went out after work with some people that I work with. We were hanging out, having a good time, when this woman that I work with came in with one of her friends. She is attractive and we are friends so I started rapping with her. Well, she had a few drinks and I had a few drinks and they started talking about what they wanted to do next. I had already made plans to go to a strip joint so I asked if they wanted to go. They talked it over and decided it would be fun and that they would go. Well, before we leave the bar, this chick starts coming on to me. At first lots of smiles and stares, but it quickly grew. Before we left, she was all over me.

We went to the strip club and had a few more drinks. I bought her and her friend four or five table dances. Even though both women pretended that the whole thing disgusted them, they never turned away a table dance. I taught them all the moves, like how to look cool in a strip club, how to talk to strippers, and how to place the dollar in the g-string and follow it with a hand lightly down the thigh. We were there for an hour or so when we decided to move the party to a club downtown. This girl was too drunk to drive so I drove her car and my buddy drove her friends car. On the way downtown, I told her that I needed to stop at my place for minute (divide and conquer).

We get to my place and she starts to talk. I'm trying to work my mac when she starts talking about her boyfriend. Boyfriend?? Turns out, unbeknownst to me, that her boyfriend was in the first bar while we were there. He told her that he didn't want to do anything that night, she believed him and went out with her friend. Well, she got really mad when she gets to the bar and her boyfriend is there hanging with his buddies. So how does she get back at him? Read the first paragraph and insert "While her boyfriend was watching" after every sentence. The whole time she is in my place she is telling about how she doesn't like men that play games and that she wants an honest man. I ignored her. All I could think about was how I became a pawn in her head game with her boyfriend.

Vidor, Texas and 4 Drunk Guys

2007-02-11T09:42:00.000-06:00

Another blast from the past here. All of my friends down in Texas will know what I am talking about. This was originally posted on my now-defunct website in Sept. of 1998.

In college we had a saying: Don’t fuck with Willie. We said it almost as often as we “Texas Fight” on Saturdays for football and basketball games.

Willie was a big, beef-eating kind of a fuy. His skin was blacker than night and he had a death wish throughout most of our college lives. There was many a weekend when Jimmy, Jason, Willy and I would head out and immediately be up to no good.

One long weekend, we were visiting friends in Beaumont, Texas. Now Beaumont is Cajun country, almost on the border with Louisiana. The night of “the keg incident” we’d gone across the border to Hebert’s Grocery (again, for you yanks, it’s pronounced A-BEAR’S). Back in the back of the tiny store was a window with a guy on the other side making underage boys like ourselves very happy (We were all Freshman or Sophomores in College). This was the place all the kids from Texas and Louisiana within 30 miles would go for beer and wine. Four mega sized beers later we peeled out and headed back to Texas. Kelly and Willie were in Kelly’s latest loaner Mustang and Jason and I were in Jason’s piece of shit pick up that could rattle the paint off a house.

Alcohol does things to a man. Mostly make him stupid. And stupid is as stupid does, that night. Willie decided he wanted to go to the Taco Bell. But not the nearest one, no, no, he wanted the one in Vidor.

Oh, hell no. “You’re fucked up, man. We ain’t going to Vidor.”

“I’m hungry!”

“For a noose?”

I remember looking at Jason and he smiled and shrugged. “The boy wants to go to Vidor, let’s go.”

Shit. It was a fucking bad idea. Vidor is where the Klan is. And I don’t just mean a group of Klansmen residing in the city, I mean the whole god forsaken city. I am not joking. Vidor is the racist city in the world. The Klan headquarters is there. Even the police are world famous for their racism. Fucking Montel Williams did a whole show on the racism in Vidor, which only advertised to the rest of the haters out there that there was a safe haven for them right there in East Texas. Hell, the Klan posts a fucking sign at the Wal-Mart announcing meetings so nobody misses one.

We pulled up in the Taco Bell and Jason opened his glove box. “Put these on. Keep your mouth shut.” He gave me two cheap men’s rings. I put one on each hand. Jason had relatives in Vidor. He didn’t share their views, but it gave him insight on how to handle the mentality.

We were the only ones inside when we ordered, but halfway through the meal, because Willie insisted on eating in the dining room, we had visitors. Three white boys pulled into the parking lot driving a pick up with a keg in the bed. They came inside and immediately set eyes on Willie. That motherfucker I swear nibbled his taco from that point on. “Eat, bitch.”

“Man, my belly is hurtin.’”

Jason balled up his paper and glanced at Willie, then me, then Kelly. He held up three fingers, then four.

Outnumbering them didn’t matter one bit when the cops would arrest every damn one of us. No cop in his right mind would believe we just stopped in for something to eat. Blacks don’t just stop in Vidor. I don’t care if they’re diabetic and chancing a coma if they don’t get some fucking OJ in the next two minutes, they don’t stop in Vidor. Sidebar here -- I remember going to the Sugar Bowl in 1994 or 95. We were piled into a car that was being driven by our friend Tyrone, a Track and Field star at UT. We were beyond empty and needed gas, he refused to stop for gas in Vidor. This was a big athletic dude and he wouldn’t even set foot in that town. We ran out of gas turning off at an exit about 6 miles past vidor. He stayed in the car as my friend Drew and I had to walk to the gas station. He felt we were still too close to Vidor for him to venture out walking. Crazy shit! And it’s like that to this day.

Anyway, back to the story. We got up to leave just as the Vidorians’ order was ready. Willie swore he didn’t move first, but it happened so fast I couldn’t tell. One minute we were almost home free, the next we were ripping one skinny white boy after another off of Willie while he tore into the biggest one who’d been eyeballing him the hardest. The wiry son of a bitch I got stuck with kept drilling me in the chest until I finally got a knee into his gut. All I can remember thinking is “Oh, Jesus, not the face, don’t hit me in the face!” I could hide the bruising on my body, but a busted lip and black eye would generate a whole new shit storm with my parents, who were coming down to visit me in two days.

The one guy Jason was pounding had lost his nerve and ran to the other end of the dining room which freed both him and me up to get between Willie and the fucking moose he was brawling with. The cashier told us she called the cops, which was not good news for us no matter who started it. It took all three of us to drag Willie out of there.

Once we got outside Jason, Kelly and I all ran for our rides, but Willie took a detour.

“What the fuck are you doing? Come on!”

Willie had jumped into the back of the white boys’ truck and was pushing the keg out to the end of the bed. Then he jumped down, slid the keg off onto his back and walked it one agonizingly slow step at a time to Jason’s pick up. We dropped the tailgate and he set the keg down, shoved it back and lifted the gate.

“Souvenir.”

Jason called him a name not even I would repeat, but it was the first time I’d ever heard Willie laugh. I mean laugh hard. When we got out of there and hopped back onto the highway I told Jason. “I’m fucking glad he’s on our side.”

Jason looked at me in all seriousness and said, “Can you tell my pants are wet?”

Reflection: As I look back on this, I am sad to say that Vidor is still a messed-up place. I have some friends from there and I will say that not everyone in that town is a racist, but there seems to be a higher than normal percentage. CNN and several other news shows have done recent stories on the town. Here are the links to a couple:

CNN Story -- http://www.cnn.com/2006/US/12/08/oppenheim.sundown.town/index.html

http://www.tmcnet.com/usubmit/2006/12/13/2167699.htm

http://www.rtis.com/reg/bcs/pol/touchstone/april99/vidor.html

It is crazy to think that places like this still exist in this day and age.

American Idol: The Judges

2007-02-04T17:10:00.000-06:00

I used to hold my hatred for American Idol in the highest regards, but now I do have to admit that I watch the show when they have the auditions, but that is it. Once they go to Hollywood, I tune it out. That being said, I refuse to relinquish my intellectual superiority to the roughly 35 million citizens who share this common thread with me. Let us analyze the American Idol Judges:

1. Randy Jackson: Ya, ya he's a black guy that talks like a white guy talking like a black guy. HAHAHA. Real observant. What people don't know is that he has worked in the music biz for over 20 years, and is responsible for over 1000 gold/platinum albums, as well as over 200 million sales. He has toured and written/produced most of the huge songs performed by Mariah Carey, Whitney Houston, Celine Dion, *NSYNC, Madonna, Elton John, Destiny's Child and countless others. This judge can best be described as a human tuning fork, capable of noticing even the most subtle variances in the entire vocal range of the human voice. He didn't get on this show by accident, he is an amazing musician. Dawg.

2. Paula Abdul: Straight up now tell me do you really wanna hear a candy coated version of the truth? OH OH OH. Paula strikes me as the musical equivalent of Will Rogers, she's never met a singer she didn't like. Excuse me, I should say ADORE. She suffers from a deplorable excess of niceness; she could probably come up with 10 good things to say about Hitler on the spot if you asked her to. In my opinion, she has no business being on the show, there are plenty of other performers who would do it better justice than paula. Not to mention the fact that every week she encourages the audience to verbally assault Simon, while she goes a step further and actually hits him. Many find this to be cute, however if the opposite were the case, the authorities would call it battery. Plus, how much does it cost to get a mole removed? Oh well, opposites attract I suppose.

3. Simon Cowell: This guy really pisses me off. But not for the reason you think. Every week Americans are proven to be the imbeciles that 99 percent of us are by an ENGLISHMAN. That chaps my hide, as well as makes me wonder how exactly it was that we won the Revolutionary War. If Simon had been in charge instead of Lord Cornwallis, you'd probably be sipping tea past your bad teeth right now. As soon as Simon starts to speak, you can almost feel the wave of boos and hisses reminiscent of a 1930's murder mystery coming from the slack-jawed yokels behind him. If these assholes would shut their damn mouths, they would realize that despite the rather mild insults he uses (accompanied by his superior vocabulary), he actually gives suggestions to the morons that will keep them on the show. Simon's resume is equally impressive as Randy's and despite his reputation as an asshole, is most likely a contestant's best bet for not getting eliminated the following week.

Lastly, we have Ryan Seacrest. Seacrest is one of the many people on network television whose mother's medical plans I personally wish had included the option of abortion. Each week he puts forth his fake smile and quippy little banter that includes attacks on Simon's personal life that have neither relevancy nor appropriateness given the context of the venue. In short, Seacrest is that little dorky asshole in high school that always had dreams of not being picked on, and has somehow lucked his way into pseudo-fame yet lacks the talent and charisma necessary to not be hated by the entire world.

Lingerie Bowl

2007-02-03T23:38:00.000-06:00

AHHH The Lingerie Bowl!!! God I love it.

Roppongi -- Japan's Answer to Bourbon St.

2007-01-19T18:38:00.000-06:00

Thought I would start postiing some of my travel adventures. I have been to South America, Central America, Asia, the Middle East, and parts of Africa. I was one of those backpacking crazies right after I graduated from college. This is one I wrote in 1997 after I got back from Asia.

Love it, hate it, loathe it, leave it: Roppongi is undenialibly a people magnet. Perhaps it doesn't attract the most savory of characters, but it cannot be denied that all walks of life rub elbows and more in Roppongi unlike anywhere else in Japan. To me, this is the Asian version of New Orleans' Bourbon Street. Wild, Crazy, Sexy, and Sultry.

What is Roppongi. Roppongi is Tokyo's little den of sin for ready-to-go gaijins and adventurous Japanese. Its humble origins date back to 400 years ago when it was a quiet little temple town with nary a vice to its name. Tragedy seems to be in Roppongi's blood as it has faced ravaging fires, WWII bombs, and drunken foreigners puking all over it during its long questionable past. Its party reputation began a hundred years or so ago, when Japanese soldiers were quartered there and, as it usually happens around young men with money and testosterone to spare, a sordid night-life sprung slowly into life. The US military continued this fine tradition in Roppongi after WWII.

These days, a night in Roppongi can be spent fending off the lusty advances of horny Nigerians, frustrated sailors, and pent up marines, and those are the guys. The girls there are crazy. Some are prostitutes, trolling for their next trick. Other women go there to find a tourist and have a little fling. For the young male out on the prowl, he has to run the alluring but annoying gamut of the massage girls. Shouting: "Massagee! Massagee!", they love to rush out to grab any passing single male and not let go until their victims have either given in or brutally fought them off. There are nightclubs that have nothing but "working women" in them. Then there are the legit clubs where the young and horny crowd go to hook up for free. There are gay clubs, transvestite clubs, clubs for old people. You name it, you can find it.

The night is a friend to Roppongi and its inhabitants of party-goers and pleasure-seekers. The streets are seemingly filled with beautiful people stumbling about in a wonderful haze as they hop from club to club. In rich rolling Nigerian accents, club hawkers call out to the passing crowds inviting them to clubs that promise to be packed with fun and people. Perhaps its the blinding flashing lights, the blaring music, or the alcohol but the insides of the popular clubs do seem to boast a population of the most incredibly good looking charismatic people who simply personify the word "cool".

Some nights, however, just aren't a good time to visit - though some sour critics would say that there is never a good night to visit Roppongi. I went there for the first time on New Years Eve 1996. Nearly the entire crew contingent of the USS Kittyhawk aircraft carrier was there to meet, compete, and throw-up on me. It was wall-to-wall testosterone. Roppongi on that New Year's would have been a lovely place to go if you were female or gay. Unfortunately, I was a single male. Bad Luck!!

I went club hopping with some friends I had met up with. A couple of them were from Japan, the others were Europeans. I got incredibly drunk and had repeated run ins with the Navy Guys. They were being assholes to everyone. I understand they are cooped up on a ship for months at a time, but they need to chill out when they come to shore. They were only looking for poontang or to get in a fight. I did stay out of any fights that night, although I probably saw at least 7 or 8 different fights throughout the night. Around 3 AM, I met some girl at a club and we started dancing. We decided to hook up, but she lived about an hour away and my hotel would not allow foreigners to bring women in (Stupid rule!!!)

Anyway, the Roppongi district has this covered. They have a number of seedy little hotels that rent rooms by the hour for horny party-goers. Being New Years, there was actually a line at most of these. We waited about 25 minutes for a room, and went in and had our fun. We stayed there till about 6:30 AM.

The danger of Roppongi, and there are many, is staying too long. If you do not hook up early and get out of there or you miss your last train, you will be in danger of seeing the horror that is Roppongi in the morning. Although I found my girl, the sun was already peaking over the rooftops when we left the hotel. She went her way and I stumbled to find my way to the subway station.

MY GOD!!! My first thoughts were that I had stepped into a disaster area. The morning is not a friend to Roppongi. In fact, its downright cruel. Daylight hits Roppongi with all the gentleness of a sledgehammer wrapped in barbed wire. Morning shatters all the glamour, egos, and illusions that was given by the night.

In the morning, the beautiful cool people you were just grooving with are suddenly replaced by a bunch of haggard hung-over hags and trolls. Rushing out into the streets doesn't save you either as the streets are choked with packs of shambling, stumbling walking dead. In the shadows, pale party-goers avoid sunlight like quaking vampires by seeking the darker recesses of the subways lest they explode in a noxious cloud of bone and dust. The sidewalk is covered with piss and vomit. The area smells like a sewer.

I stumble to the subway station, all the while holding my sleeve over my nose to block out the noxious fumes. In the bowels of the subway station, the survivors of the night are huddled like war-weary third world refugees as they await the train that will carry them away from this hell. Very few are capable of standing. Most are passed out in theirs or somebody else's filth. Those few who are conscious stare into the void with bleary, blood-shot eyes like shell-shock war veterans who have been too long up at the Front.

I told myself: "Never Again!" as I lurched for the train along with the rest of the wretched masses yearning for escape. Of course, I caved the next night and went straight back to this crazy purgatory of pleasure.

Invisible to Teenagers

2007-01-13T09:53:00.000-06:00

As I was filling my gas tank this morning at Casey’s and I glanced up and noticed a credit card sitting on top of the machine. It was a platinum card for Bank of America. Ah, mamacita, a debit card. As per the little photo in the upper left corner, a brunette with a cute smile and just old enough (She looked 19 or 20) so I wouldn’t get my ass thrown in jail if she wanted to give me a personal reward for finding it, left her card behind for all to share in the wealth. Bless her generous, stupid heart.

What teenager has a platinum card? I don’t have a platinum card. And if I did I’d damn sure not leave it sitting ON TOP OF THE FUCKING PAY AT THE PUMP! Especially if it was Daddy’s checking account. But then, that’s just me and I’m fucked up like that.

I topped off my tank, to hell with those cutesy little stickers that warn not to or else goblins will eat my soul, and tossed the abandoned credit card onto my front seat. Now maybe the right thing to do was to bring it inside, but who’s to say the owner went inside or would know to come back for it at this location? And who’s to say the remarkably sharp clerk behind the counter inside with a mouthful of broken teeth in a lovely shade of moss would make an effort to return the card to its owner, let alone keep it safe? Honestly, I felt like a thief, but hoped nobody would find out until I’d had time to locate the owner and prove my intent. Worst case, if she was nowhere to be found I’d cut it up and trash it and she’ll never have to experience fraudulent charges whether she realizes it or not.

Fortunately for both of us, her name was Meghan Thingamabobber. Not really, Duh!!. But unique in a similar way. I got to work and hopped online. It took me about 2 minutes to find someone by the last name of Thingamabobber in my zip code. Jackpot!!! I only found 1 with that name. Ironically, his name was Eric. Eric Thingamabobber. Now was Eric Daddy or Husband??

I wrote the number down on a dirty Starbucks napkin I almost used to pick my nose with earlier in the morning. Went with the sleeve of my jacket instead. Good job. I dialed the number and got this:

Her: Hello?
Me: I’m calling for Meghan Thingamabobber
Her: Yeah…?
Me: …is this Meghan?
Her: Yeah.
(Rude little shit). Me: I have your Bank of America card.
Her: Huh?
Me: You left it at the Casey’s. I found it this morning.
Her: I need that.

You’re welcome, you ungrateful little brat.

Anyway, she gave me her address and I immediately understood how she could leave her credit card at the gas station. What woman in her right mind would give a complete stranger her address. For all she knew, I could have been a deranged ax-murderer or a serial rapist.

When I drove to her house some time later, I immediately figured out Eric was her daddy. No way she was even 18. She answered the door wearing a tight, red tank top that made me want to do naughty things with her not-quite-legal appendages which strained against the cotton. Maybe in a few more months when the stiff jail time falls from her plate of goodies to savor I’ll come back and swipe my own debit card between the boobies and see what it buys me. Try as I might, I was unable to maintain full eye contact when I handed her the debit card.

“Thank you, sir.”

Sir? Ah, hell. There went that fantasy.

Why I Lived Alone for So Long

2007-01-11T08:44:00.000-06:00

For one semester back in college I was sure I’d be the first man killed by a psychotic sleep walker. I had two roommates, James and Gabe. James was never around. He paid his rent, but his girlfriend had a place of her own paid for by Daddy Big Bucks. Gabe was always fucking there. The Dude had no other place to be. He had a blonde afro the size of Epcot Center, and it was on purpose. He had it permed every couple of months. Even had a mustache like Magnum P.I. But he paid his share of the rent and managed to make the preppy/redneck style look good and that was all I cared about.

I was up flipping channels on the TV at 2:00 one morning when I heard his shower come on. I thought it was odd that he’d get up in the middle of the night to shower, but maybe he’d been spanking the monkey and forgotten to use a sock or tissues to avoid the mess. It happens. He got up at 6:00 and showered again. I asked him why his ass had to use up all the hot water when he’d just showered a few hours before. He said I was full of shit. Why would he get up in the middle of the night to take a shower?

Whatever, bro.

A few weeks later I was up again watching TV when I heard shouting. Gabe’s door flung open so hard it hit the wall and he ran into the living room screaming. “He’s in my bed! He’s in my bed!”

Bullshit. Who in the hell would get into Gabe’s bed? He stood in the corner, whining and shaking his left arm with his right hand. Crazy bastard. I reached around the wall and flipped the light switch without going in, just in case he wasn’t out of his goddamned mind after all, but when I looked in there was nothing but a pile of crumpled sheets.

“Dude, there’s nobody in here.”

“I felt him, I felt him! I touched his arm.”

To this day, I believe that he had fallen asleep on his arm, it went numb, and he touched his own hand thinking it belonged to another man in his bed. By morning, Gabe had no recollection of the entire thing.

The day Gabe brought a 9mm back to the apartment I nearly shit my pants. “What in the – Fuck no! Uh uh, no, bitch. Take that shit out of here.” Gabe was going through his gangsta phase. Listening to NWA, drinking 40’s, and trying to be a gangbanger.

He said he needed it for his protection. He was starting to run with a rough crowd.

“Protection from what? You're the weirdest fucker in the whole complex" I said.

He insisted he needed the gun for his safety. He put it in his nightstand in his bedroom and told me where I could find it if I ever needed it. Yeah, when hell freezes over.

A few days later it was just after midnight when Gabe’s door creaked open. I looked up and saw four fingers, an eye and part of a ‘fro showing through the narrow gap in the doorway. The eyeball started roaming all around the room, not looking at anything in particular, then it and the ‘fro slowly disappeared behind the door, the fingers slipped back inside, and the door closed gently.

I went to my bedroom, locked the door, and didn’t come out until the sun was up. The next morning, Gabe and I had a long talk. I told him it was either him or I. One of us had to go. I knew damn well he couldn’t afford to split the rent two ways. He got on the phone, made a few calls. I went to class and when I got home, he was gone. He had cleared out his clothes, but left all of his other personal shit. CD’s, books, notebooks, his walkman, etc were all still there. I waited weeks for him to come back for the stuff, but I never saw him again. He was gone. Mr. Gabe had a new place to live. I learned that he dropped out of school later that week and no one knew where he went. His parents called to talk to him about 2 weeks after he left. They had no clue that he had moved out. To this day, I am not sure what happened. He could be dead for all I know. Maybe somebody was after him. All I know is that he was a crazy motherfucker!!

After him, I lived alone for about 12 years. Sure, I would have girls spend the night sometimes, maybe even a week or two, but I never really moved in with anyone long-term for a good while. One weird psycho roommate is enough.

The Broken Hand

2007-01-07T13:08:00.000-06:00

Well we were partying it up at the bar, and needless to say I was pretty blasted and apparentely I punched a chair and then tried to karate chop a pool table....later on in the evening I somehow went home. I have no idea how. I wake up in the morning with my hand just throbbing and feeling rather like it is shattered!! I look at my hand only to find a sock over my hand with a clenched fist and duct tape wrapped up to my elbow as a make shift cast!! Don't remember doing this, but it gets better! So I get up to go to the can and find my clothes all over the floor on the way to the washroom and in the hallway there is a bag of pitas! Where the hell do you get a bag of pita bread at 3 in the morning!! So I decide to go to the hospital and have my hand looked at. I get dressed and head out to my car. It isnt out there. I lived in an apartment complex so I start walking all over the parking lot to find the car, but no luck. I say screw it and I take the bus to the hospital. People are staring at me since I have a sock with duct tape on me and I look like death!!! I finally make it to the hospital and my hand is broken in two places. I call my friends to pick me up and we go back to the place of the party and find my car. A fun night that I don't remember!

Good ol' Drunk College Sex

2007-01-03T08:12:00.000-06:00

This story happened my soph. year at UT. Sept. 1990

There's nothing special about this story except that...IT WAS ONE OF THE LUCKIEST DAYS OF MY LIFE. I do consider myself something of a ladies man. I am not ashamed to admit it. A week ago I was drunk and there were about six drunk girls at my friend Robert's pad. There was this fine blond girl with a nice rack and a blue mini-skirt who I later found out was named Marina and was one of the pom-pom girls for the UT basketball team. JACKPOT!!

Rob told me to go for it and I started trying to make my plan of attack. A girl this hot has been hit on everyway possible. I had to come up with something new. I went to the kitchen to take a couple shots a fucking miracle happened. I walked in and the girl was crying her ass off. Okay, I know, not what you call a Christmas miracle or anything, but I knew this was my chance to play up the nice friendly gentleman card.

I asked her what was wrong and she told me that her boyfriend was fucking some other girl so they broke up a week ago. Being kinda drunk I guess she just broke down so I invited her to take a couple shots with me. We took a shot of JD and vodka and I told her she could hang out in my room until she felt better. She took my advice and I told her I would check on her in like 10 minutes.

When I went in to check on her she was on my computer watching some porn of a blond chick giving a bj that I was jerking it to earlier. What a fucking moron. I left that shit on my queue in Winamp. I ran over, apologized, and reached over to shut it off, but this fine ass drunk girl just turned to me and said "I can do that way better than that."

I bet that she couldn't and after a bit of coaxing she was sucking my cock while I had a bottle of Jim Beam in my hand. Rob knocked on the door in the middle of it to see that we were okay and I yelled that we were sleeping. Then this girl started going wild and asked me to fuck her "as hard as I could." I happily obliged and had some of the best sex I have ever had in my entire young life. The next morning I woke up at around noon and she was gone. I haven't talked to her since, but drunk ass college sex is exactly why I came to school. God damn I need to get laid more.

My Idiot Cousin

2006-12-29T16:46:00.000-06:00

I have this cousin, nice guy, but sometimes he is a little stupid. Anyway, he came to visit us this weekend and we all went out. Last night we all were partying and got pretty messed up. He actually separates from us and goes with this girl. I heard him come home at about 4 AM. This morning, he comes out to eat breakfast and his hand is all orange. I ask what the fuck is the matter and the rest are his words:

"Well I'm not going to say what I did but It was some good stuff. This girl and I were messing around, but then her freakin parents come home. They had been to a wedding reception and she thought they were already home and in bed. So we had to stop and I snuck out. What we were doing, It made me extremely horny, and I had to ...well you know. There wasnt any getting around it, I HAD TOO! I race to your house and I can't stand it. So i went into the bathroom and grabbed some lotion, ran back into the guest bedroom. Everything was all good, and when all was said and done I took a shower went to sleep. Well I wake up today, and go to the bathroom. I look down at my hand, and the whole thing is bright orange! My fingernails and everything! So I go to the bathroom and look at the lotion and it was freakin self tanner! So now two parts of my body are bright, bright, bright orange!!!!! I tried to scrub it off but I can't. I guess that I just have ta let it wear off. I am so embarrased! And I have to go home to my parents in a couple hours. I have no clue what I am going to tell them."

Just to clarify the only reason i'm telling everyone about this is because it was so freaking funny, I was laughing for an hour. He ended up using the tanning lotion that we had. His lower stomach and his dick and balls are orange. It is hilarious. He is 19, but still lives with his parents. I cant wait to see their reaction and hear his excuse!!!

Only the Crazies Live Anywhere Else

2006-12-13T09:55:00.000-06:00

There he goes again, that fucking redneck. Always bragging about Texas, like any of us give a damn. And if I had anything else at all to do right now I'd move the fuck on. Lucky for him I'm almost as big a loser as he is.

Beaumont to El Paso: 742 miles

Beaumont to Chicago: 770 miles

El Paso is closer to California than to Dallas

World's first rodeo was in Pecos... July 4, 1883.

The Flagship Hotel in Galveston is the only hotel in North America built over water.

The Heisman Trophy was named after John William Heisman who was the first full time coach for Rice University in Houston.

Brazoria County has more species of birds than any other area in North America.

Aransas Wildlife Refuge is the winter home of North America's only remaining flock of whooping cranes.

Jalapeno jelly originated in Lake Jackson in 1978.

The worst natural disaster in U.S. history was in 1900 caused by a hurricane in which over 8000 lives were lost on Galveston Island.

The first word spoken from the moon, July 20, 1969, was "Houston."

King Ranch is larger than Rhode Island.

Tropical Storm Claudette brought a US. rainfall record of 43" in 24 hours in and around Alvin in July 1979.

Texas is the only state to enter the U.S. by TREATY, instead of by annexation. (This allows the Texas flag to fly at the same height as the US flag.)

A Live Oak tree near Fulton is estimated to be 1500 years old.

Dr Pepper was invented in Waco in 1885 and there is no period after Dr in Dr Pepper.

Texas has had six capital cities:

1. Washington-on-the-Brazos
2. Harrisburg
3. Galveston
4. Velasco
5. West Columbia
6. Austin

The Capitol Dome in Austin is the only dome in the U.S which is taller than the Capitol Building in Washington D.C. (by 7 feet).

The name Texas comes from the Hasini Indian word "tejas" meaning friends.

Tejas is not Spanish for Texas.

The State animal is the Armadillo. (An interesting bit of trivia about the armadillo is that it always has four babies. It has one egg which splits into four and it either has four males or four females. Fuck you, I thought it was interesting anyway.)

The first domed stadium in the U.S. was the Astrodome in Houston.

The University of Texas are the defending NCAA Football Champions.

Hot Chicks and Dorky Guys

2006-12-06T12:28:00.000-06:00

Is it just me, or is the dorky-guys-with-cute-chicks ratio officially off the charts? It started out in the imaginary world of TV, where balding, beer-bellied dolts like Jim Belushi, the King of Queens guy, and some guy from some other show could land aging but still quite hot women like Courtney Thorne-Smith, Leah Remini (Although she has gained a little weight, she is still cute) and Jami Gertz. Now it seems to have spilled out into real life, where I am constantly amazed at how many dorks and near-gimps have hooked up with women who wouldn't give them the time of day in high school.

Last week, I saw one of the hottest girls that I went to high school with. She was a cheerleader, smart, witty, athletic, and damn good lookin. She was with her husband. DAMN!!! He was the dorkiest guy I had ever seen. I mean he was a pure nerd. Skinny, glasses, curly hair. I swear he was Napoleon Dynamites older, darker haired brother!!!!! I would have expected her to marry a pro football player, or a handsome doctor, or something like that. This guy didnt even have a mega high profile job. He was a frickin school teacher, just like me!!!!! Unbelievable!!!!!!

I guess everyone has a chance.

Courtyard Pool Orgy

2006-12-04T16:59:00.000-06:00

This one happened on West Campus in September 1991.Austin, TX

There is a student apartment complex in West Campus called Orange Tree, right by frat row. I was over at a buddy of mine's house drinking with a bunch of people, and we just opened the door so people could go in and out to smoke. In stumble these three trashed sorority pledges (their house is right next door). One's hot, one's cute, the other one looked cute with beer goggles. Talk about easy pickins! My buddy Brett was already talking closely with the hot one, leaving the other two.

About 8-10 drinks later, cute and beer goggles start talking about how much they like to kiss each other. I say jokingly "I'd pay a dollar to see that," to which I got an unexpected "sure!" in reply. At this point I'm pondering how I can best take advantage of these sorostitutes, and quickly add that I'll throw in another buck if I can join in, and they went along with that too. I gave them 2 bucks and started making out with both of them at the same time. At this point many of my friends were pleasantly surprised (and impressed) at this turn of events.

Now, we are all drunk off our asses and I see the girls are getting super horny!! I make my move and I convinced them to get in the pool, at the time inhabited only by one lone couple we didn't know. I was with the two girls and start to finger bang both of them while Brett makes out with the third one. My one friend didn't have one, so I pushed one away and gave her to him. Before you know it, I'm screwing the one I have left, my two friends are with theirs, and the couple in the pool are going at it. This pool is in the dead center of the courtyard, everyone's front doors face it. So as 2:30 rolled around people who were getting home from 6th Street, started walking by and cheering on the orgy in the pool. After the pool orgy, we all parted ways. I took my girl back to my place and we screwed till about 6 am.

I woke up the next morning and remembered the pool event, but I was shocked to find the girl in the apartment. I didnt even remember her name, so I rummaged through her purse that was in the living room and found her drivers license (I didnt want to look like a bad guy). Glad I did. She woke up and had no clue where she was, though she did remember the pool. I dont think she knew my name either and she seemed a little embarrassed cause I kept calling her by her name and she would just call me baby or some other generic name. We took a shower together and screwed again, then I took her home. Best $2 I ever spent, period.

Whacky New Fetish?!?!?!

2006-11-11T12:51:00.000-06:00

Every Wednesday night, my buddies and I get together to play some poker and drink a few beers. We usually have between 5 and 7 guys. It is a time to get together and do guy things, which means gambling, drinking, talking about sports, women, and sex. For about 2 or 3 hours, that is our lives.

Anyway, last Wednesday we get together and we start talking about sex and some of the weird things weve done. We are talking about the usually; sex in cars, outdoors, in the shower, etc. Nothing out of the ordinary really.

Then, JR drops a bombshell!!!!! He tells us that sometimes he jacks off and cums on the girl that he is sleeping with. I was shocked at first, but then I figure it must be something he has done once or twice and that is it. He confesses that it is a habit with him. Sometimes, he will wait till the chick falls asleeps, then he masturbrates and shoots his load on the girls clothes or body, etc. According to him, he does it often, and most of the time, the girl wakes up in the morning and doesnt even know he has done it.

We are all sitting there, open mouthed. SHOCKED!!! This just seemed too weird. Then Gary, another player (BTW, these are not the real names since they may be embarrassed by this) tells us he has done that a few times. WHAT THE HELL IS THE WORLD COMING TO???

I guess I can understand if you are hot and heavy and then the girl decided to stop before you finish the deed. Maybe you finish it on your own. Or if she passes out while doin it. I can see that scenario. Or, we discussed the scenario where the girl turns into a psycho-bitch and you shoot a load in her hair after she falls asleep (Ladies, you know how much of a mess that is). But doing that crap on a regular basis?? Weird!!

So the nights poker is ruined as we spend about an hour discussing this topic. We conclude it must be some kind of fetish. I mean why jack-off with a girl lying next to you when you could do it solo. I have done a lot of wild, kinky sex stuff, but I have never jacked off onto a sleeping girl. Hell, I have only jacked off in front of a girl a couple of times and that was because she was hot and begged me to let her watch( and she had to finish the deed).. I guess there are some girls that get super excited watching guys Jack-off

So, I would like to get a little discussion going on this blog. I know I have a lot of readers, but not too many people make comments. Those that do, I thank you and I will try and get a comment back to you. Guys, if you have done this or know someone that has and arent shy about talking about it, post it here.

Girls, if you have had this done to you or suspect someone did this to you, post it here. Lets talk about this. I am going to have to look it up, but we may have discovered a whole new category of fetishes!!!!!!!!!!!

Casual Sex Definitions

2006-11-02T10:07:00.000-06:00

Only us overeducated and neurotic Americans can fuck up something simple as casual sex, and all over definitions. So, as a public service, here follows the definitions of some (some is key here) of the sexual liaisons available to the discerning American:

Sex With No Strings. Pretty simple, and to the point - humping. Lots of it. Usually in one session - thus, no strings. In other words, no expectations of future humping, unless a new relationship is negotiated. SWNS means I will not a call you later, I will not meet your parents, and no, you can't sleep over (in my t-shirt no less). This is the traditional One Night Stand, folks, it just doesn't have to start in a bar, nor do you need to be drunk.

Guys, it has been my experience that if you do not just shoot your load, and instantly ask when the next bus runs outside, and you actually act like you care, the lady might reward you with an upgrade to fuck buddy status(see below). This category is often the one that you end up calling later, drunk, horny, and confused. This is also the one that is "use once, throw away". Unless it's so good, you have to go back...usually you can decide this 30 seconds after you cum...then it's upgrade time.

Gals. This is NOT A RELATIONSHIP. STOP telling your girlfriends about the awesome guy you met last night, he's not calling you again. Yes, he used you. You used him right back. Enjoy the power. These are hook ups you don't talk about, nor do you take them around to meet your pals for drinks the next day. You hump, they leave. Simple.

Booty Call: This is someone you've SWNS'ed, or dated. Maybe you were married. Or she is married or dating, or you work together. Or you both are involved with someone else. This is someone you can call anytime, day or night, and chances are, you will get laid. You have one or two of these, right? Everyone does. Anyone who's dating someone else, and it's the first year, dreads these. We all know who are they. We have ours.

Guys and Gals - these happen FROM previous relationships. Stop asking for them, you're putting the horse before the cart. One of the important things here is, A., you know calling them is okay, and vice versa, and B., you know what they're like in bed, they're acceptable to you, and there will be no uncomfortable "surprises" at the door if they come over. Slow it down, Speed Racer, and try SWNS first. And finally, these are the super, super secret ones. Nobody ever knows. Ever. If you tell your current girlfriend/boyfriend, you destroy the relationship AND the bootycall.

Fuck Buddy. These are the fun ones, and the most dangerous. It's about sex - lots of it, and all the time. After work, before work, all weekend, in Tahoe on a ski weekend (fireplace sex is the BEST), and they're allowed to stay over. Can be ongoing, like a booty call, and will be dusted off between relationships. "Funny, I never met HIM the 3 years we dated? Oh, he's one of THOSE." You might even date, go out, show each other off, but once things get personal, you both know it's time to split up, for now. They're the one person who won't get upset if you say "I met someone..." because they did, too.

Guys and gals, warning. These relationships are treacherous. They CAN and do sometimes get real, and the other person rarely agrees it's time to start sharing the bureau and bathroom. Be open, honest, and make sure you're BOTH on the same page, and the kingdom is yours.

However, for the meek at heart, beware. These are the realtionships where fetishes, fanatsies, and pure unadulterated hedonsim occurs, and it's expected. This is the time for her to try drinking the blood from a wound on your lower belly while she jerks you off, because those bloody vampire movies turn her on in a way she's not ready to deal with. This is the time he'll be into trying threesomes, or more. Do not be offended if he wants to share you, you are his favorite toy, and it's a mark of honor that he's comfy with it. Indulge. But if they rock your polite, standard ideas of what sex is a little too hard, be aware you are in far, far over your head, and you need to back off and either date (foolish exercise that it is) or dabble with SWNS, so you can at least escape his/her chamber of horrors.

Yes folks, this is the one where you get your stories. Love them, live them, respect them. You'd both worked hard.

Friends With Benefits. Yes, that one. Okay, some blunt truth. Women tend to abuse this one to try and trap a guy into a relationship, and guys generally confuse this with Fuck Buddy, Booty Call, and Sex With No Strings - and generally all in one night. Guys, these are going to be tough for you, for one reason: the word "friends". These relationships have a very good shot of turning into a real relationship. See "When Harry Met Sally". This is someone you'd probably be dating, anyway, and the only difference is no sex. Adding sex can be tricky, as it moves the relationship into a grey area, of where you're not sure how you feel.

OR

It's someone you trust utterly, who can share this intimacy with you without freaking out on you, and it'll be your shared secret, one that means something. Yes, guys, sex can be meaningful.

This is one where friendship needs to be present first - a strong friendship that can survive the rocky shore of sexual relations. If your friendship is rocky, chaotic, inconstant, and does not have solid communication skills on both sides, mutual trust and respect, it's just a bad idea to begin with, and it will kill your friendship - one that you generally want to cling to, as they count for far more than fleeting sex.

Of all the women I've had offer this to me, very few of them could handle it, and were confusing the intimacy of friendship with something else. Two i accepted, one worked, one didn't, and horribly. The three I offered it to, I knew could, and it was a warm, enjoyable experience we still smile about and hint at when our SO's aren't around. These are good for times of stress or tradgedy, for the lean times between relationships, and while they tend to be more about married sex than the wild, unbridled fuck buddies, it's very, very good - you know each other, it's that much deeper.

Gals: this is a bad way to find a boyfreind. If he's already a freind, that means you don't want to date him, or you're not sure. Make up your mind before plunging in. If you have any feelings for him, and don't admit it up front, it won't go well. Don't dupe a guy - we hate that. Don't lie. You cannot ASK for this with some guy you just met - they are bred during real friendships that happen outside of your nasty little weekend adventures. (You nasty little girl. Bless you.) Asking for a Friends With Benefits too soon screams one thing to me; someone who cannot be honest about what they're looking for, and is using his/her sexuality, or the lure of it, to bypass the hard work of actually meeting someone, getting to know them, and actually relating to them on various levels. You belong in Casual Encounters, but you need to get real - what you need and all you can handle is a SWNS or a fuck buddy, stop trying to trick people with the lure of sex.

Guys: This is trouble for you, for that "friend" word. Yes, it means you have to be a friend, and all that implies. That means she CAN in fact call you when she's weepy, and you have to listen. That means you're NICE to her, and do nice things for her. It may have even occured to her that you really like her, which is why you're friends with her. This is one you introduce to your family, if they don't know her and adore her already, but as just friends - they'll understand later if that changes. It also means that you won't be having sex all the time - you're freinds, remember? That means doing things with her, like going to the store with her, getting her medicine and soup when she's sick, driving her when her car is in the shop...you know the drill. if any of this irks you, you're not being honest about her, and you need to figure out what you're doing, or negotiate for a different status.

Hope this helps! Feel free to rebutt, reject, or rejoinder!

Toolbelt Diva -- What's the Big Deal?? (And, A Theory is Born)

2006-10-27T12:44:00.000-06:00

So I finally saw that show all the guys have been talking about: Toolbelt Diva (Or something like that). Alot of my friends have been watching that show religiously. It is a great buy show. Put together tools and a hottie, and you are onto something. Look at "Home Improvement". Be honest guys, the reason we watched it was because we could relate to Tim being a bumbling fool when it came to handy work, and Pamela Anderson was in it. Take away one of those two aspects, and the show is dead.
A couple of my friends swear this toolbelt diva girl is "A guys dream come true, a hot chick that is good with tools (And I aint talking about personal tools!!!) I even have a friend that is going to Milwaukee this week and he found out she is going to be at some construction/building show in Madison. He is actually making a special trip over to go to that show and see her. His goal is to get a signed picture of her, and a foto of him and her together. What the Hell!!! He is obssessed!!

Anyway, I finally watched it and I have to say, I am not all that impressed. Sorry, but that girl just doesnt do it for me. She is alright, but not a grade A hottie. Now if it was Shakira, Angelina Jolie, or any number of other hotties hosting the show, I would be loving it.

I can't understand the hype and obssession with this girl. I have a theory (Yes, another one of my theories. Trust me, I will have hundreds more) I think that guys are going crazy for this girl just because she is an OK looking woman that likes tools. Put this girl on a sitcom or on an animal channel show, and guys wont even notice her. She would be just another average looking woman on a show. There are some things that add to the hotness points of a girl. A Thong (See one of my previous blogs, lesbianism or being bi, a girl that loves sports, a girl that doesnt care if you are a lazy bum, and a girl that likes the hardware store, etc. These automatically notch a girl up one or two spaces. A 5 turns into a 6 or 7, an 8 turns into a goddess. That is my theory. I think most guys and girls will agree on that one. Let the debating begin.

Undercover Ass Video

2006-10-21T01:59:00.000-06:00

So someone who knows me well sends me a link to this clip, which is basically some chick with a fantastic ass apparently coming out of an airport and wandering into town. (Those who know me know that I am an Ass man!!!) And this isn't the first time I've seen this sort of clip, I have several friends who must surf around video sites all day or something, cause I get several different videos a week; butts, boobs, bike crashes, fights, sports stuff, etc.) I have to wonder how these guys that film this stuff do it. I mean they do this undercover filming, post it on sites like YouTube and then they critique each others' works as if they were comparing Oscar nominated movies. Even more intriguing is the thought process that has to go into this sort of thing. In the aforementioned clip, the guy's clearly got some kinda camera hidden in a briefcase. But how long can you follow someone -- especially in, say, a mall -- before you get discovered? I mean, wouldnt it quickly become obvious after a minute or two.

To be honest, as fucking fantastic as this stuff is -- hey, it saves me the trouble of actually walking around outside staring at these asses myself -- what I'd really love to see is a secret film of the guys who secretly film these ladies' rear ends. I mean, let's learn more about the technique. How are they positioning their brief case? Have any of them evolved to James Bond-esque pen cameras? Screw wasting our valuable technology on searching Mars; what the fuck do I care about red rocks? Channel that money to some of these abudding directors and let's see how quickly they can bring the fine art of voyeur ass photography to its next level.

Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way, by all that is holy, LOOK AT THIS GIRL. Sweet God Almighty! Baby got Back!!! I lived in Mexico and South America, so I saw this on a daily basis. My buddy who lives in Bolivia sent this one to me. I've I have to admit, I have replayed this clip over a few times. My buddy Todd is a reward to anyone who can identify and locate her.

The Mile High Club

2006-09-27T16:08:00.000-06:00

A friend of mine and his girlfriend are going on a vacation to Europe in a couple of weeks. He turned to me for some advice. He wanted to know how they could join the mile-high club. I am a card carrying member and he figured maybe I could offer him some tips. I was happy to oblige.

First though, I gotta get a little rant off my chest. Why is it the Mile-High Club?? It isnt like we are doing it in Denver or something. It is on a plane during mid-flight. I think most airlines cruising altitude is between 25,000 and 30,000 feet. That would put it between 5 and 6 miles. Whoever came up with that name is a moron.

Anyway, lets get to the nitty gritty. I am a multiple member of the Mile-High Club. Two times I have done the deed on an airplane. Three times if you include oral sex!!! :)

The first time was coming back from Vegas flying into Dallas. My girl and I were on a late-night redeye. We left Vegas around 11:30. The flight was only a quarter full, if that. There were probably 150 seats and only about 40 passengers. Everyone spread out. We got near the back and had a row of seats to ourselves. We could spread out and rest. Problem was, my girl was a little horny. She started putting her hand in my pants and playing around. So I asked for a blanket, and we used our jackets and she got down there and gave me a tremendous blow-job. Anytime a stewardess or someone would walk down the aisle, I would tap her and she would peak her head out and pretend to be asleep on my lap. After she was done, I put my fingers to work and got her off. It was a pretty satisfying flight for both of us. I still have no clue why we didnt think of going to the bathroom and doing it in there. Oh Well!!!!

The second time was with some girl I had just met. I was traveling around SE Asia for a couple months and had met a girl from the states in Thailand a week before I was to leave. IT must have been a small world cause we found out we were on the same flight back to L.A. We spent that last week together in Thailand, seeing the sights, drinking and partying. But we never had sex while we were there. We made out, messed around a little, but that was it.

We get on the flight and our seats are pretty far apart. I talk a guy into switching with her so we could sit together and the flight wouldnt be so boring. We talked and talked on the flight from Thailand to Singapore. Then we had a layover and we got on our flight from Singapore to LA. It was one of those all night flights. We got into LA around 8 AM, so it was dark and quiet on the flight. Most people fell asleep soon after take off. It was one of those huge 747 planes and we were near the back. There were like 4 or 5 bathrooms in the back.

I was shocked when she asked me if I wanted to join the Mile High Club. Just like that, out of the blue. She said that was something she wanted to do and thought I was a cool guy (See, people think I am cool!!!!) Of course I said Hell Yeah

So she went back to the bathroom first and I watched to see which one she got in. I waited a few minutes, went back and gave a secret knock. Got in there and we went to work. First off, those bathrooms are tiny. You can really only do 3 positions and we did them all. I sat on the toilet and she sat on me, she stood and leaned on the sink and I did her, then she stood and I did her from behind. There isnt a lot of room to move. We did it in about 7 minutes, the longer we took, the more suspicious it would look that both of us were gone from our seat. She snuck out first, then I left a few minutes later. We got back to the seats and surveyed the damage. A couple scrapes and bruises, and I had a sore back, but that was it. Not bad!!!!! Not comfortable either, but not bad!!!!

A Postscript to this part of the story: When we got to LA, we had a short layover before her flight to Idaho and my flight to Austin. I wanted to get her number, but she would only give me her email. I kept pressing for it and she finally confessed that she was engaged!!!! UNBELIEVABLE!!!! The wedding was in less than a month. I actually felt a little used!!! That feeling lasted for a few minutes than it disappeared. I did talk to her a couple of times and we email from time to time. I wish her the best!!!

The last time I did the Mile High Club was a few years ago flying from Chicago to Mexico City. I was flying with a girl who was going to visit her cousins and grandparents in Mexico. I was going to take a little vacation. You could say we wereFuck-Buddies We would get together every once in a while and just have wild, kinky sex. It was great. Anyway, it was much the same as the first sex episode. We snuck back to the bathrooms and did it. This time, we went a little long and took about 10 or 12 minutes. I went out first and a stewardess was there, outside the door. She just smiled and winked. Then said You know the back couple of rows could hear you two slamming against the door and I think I heard a scream. I was frickin Embarrassed!! I went back to the seat and the people sitting across the aisle from us were just smiling and chuckling. Teresa came a minute or two later and the first thing she said was I think everyone knows!!! It was so embarrassing, but now, it is hilarious as hell. I still talk to Teresa and we always reminisce about that episode.

So, finally, my advice for joining the Mile-High Club
1. Sit near the back of the plane
2. Wait until you are sure no one is back there in the bathrooms or waiting for them.
3. Go a few minutes apart.
4. Do it, and get out of there. 5 minutes is an ideal amount of time. Longer and you risk suspicion.
5. Remember, it is close quarters. The two times I did it in the lavoratory, I walked away with bruises and scrapes.
6. Exit separately, and if someone is waiting, tell them you were helping your kid in the bathroom and they are still in there. Hopefully, the other stall will open up before your chica comes out and they can use that one.
7. If you get caught, so what!!! Last I knew, there was no law against having sex in the bathroom of an airplane. ENJOY!!!

GOOD LUCK ROD!!! Hope you two get inducted.

What I Love About Women

2006-09-20T10:28:00.000-06:00

When it comes to the subject of women, one of the best things I ever heard said on the subject was "I love 'em all. Every goddamned one of 'em." I couldnt agree more. Let's face it; at a very fundamental level, I've been in love with every beautiful woman I've ever met. It's a difficult task to try and elucidate all that I love about women, but I feel that I must give some kind of an explanation, if for no other reason than so you understand why I cannot resist my compunction to run game on every hot girl I meet. So, here's my list.

The way women can make me laugh at goofy ass jokes I would physically abuse one of my guy friends for telling.

Bottom lip biting.

Boy shorts, belly button rings and French manicures.

Bath & Body Works Warm Vanilla Sugar. Like a hormonal bloodhound, I can pick this smell out from a hundred yards, and I cannot explain to you how on board I am with making women smell like dessert.

This piece of body language: You catch a girl you dont know looking at you and she looks straight down before looking away. Translation: You're in.

Girls with Southern accents and their ability to make the simple act of holding a longneck beer on a nice spring day pretty much the hottest thing ever.

How the really hot ones make me forget I have an exceptional vocabulary. A beautiful woman acts upon my brain's language center much the way Godzilla acts upon Tokyo. There is a lot of panic and screaming in a language no one understands, and suddenly the whole place is a smoldering ruin.

Their laughter and how it provokes my non-stop efforts to obtain it.

Internal logic that is utterly incomprehensible to men.

Their ability to make me let my guard down. The right woman can blow a hole a mile wide in my stoicism and I will simultaneously resent, be in awe of and love her for it.

The curve of a hip. Oh, I know most guys are ass men or breast men or whatnot, but something about that sinuous curve of a woman's hip throws me into my most primordial mode of thinking. The current trend of ridiculously low-rise jeans that expose the hips could well be proof that God's not mad at me anymore.

Women make the best friends, because it's like you can talk to them and stuff and then they, like... listen.

That ability women possess to convey five paragraphs of information with a single look.

Inside jokes. Sure, men have inside jokes with their drinking buddies. But something about inside jokes with women is so much more gratifying. It's as though, in some small way, you have managed to decode a tiny bit of that incomprehensible internal logic and dialed directly into her sense of humor.

Self-conscious blushing. Sometimes this is related to an inside joke, but more frequently, it is simply a by-product of the differing ways men and women communicate. Women are subtle, nuanced. Men are direct, and it's usually a direct comment from us that produces a self-conscious blush from them.

Everyone here knows it. Pussy has to be on the list. It just has to be.

Alright, fine. Blowjobs can come along, too.

The way women can, with no effort at all, either inspire or stop violence.

How, in the end, my type doesn't really matter. We all know I like my women Southern and blonde or Latina and Brunette, just as we all know that my head has snapped around on many a redhead. There is no telling who I'll find attractive on a day to day basis, and that's what makes women wonderful as a group; every one is an adventure. I really find all types of women attractive

Women make me cooler than the other side of the pillow. Without women in my life, I wouldn't know how to dress, how to behave or which celebrities are screwing this week.

How, despite their best efforts, they can't make me stop believing, at some deep-down level, in the concept of love.

Lip gloss. Lipstick is alright, I guess, but I have a strong predilection towards lip gloss. Lips that shiny and full scream "kiss me", and there is no way in hell I am going to disobey.

Her bathroom. I am a visitor in a strange land the moment I set foot inside a woman's bathroom. There is approximately $15,000 worth of product in there whose purposes cannot be readily surmised by the average heterosexual male. None the less, I know it all helps her look and smell the way she does, which makes my happy place tingly.

Her moods. As indecipherable as the tides, and every bit as intriguing, it is incumbent upon men to stay one step ahead of a woman's moods. We fail miserably at this task, and really... we're sort of okay with that.

Their recognition that, at many levels, we're really not ever going to grow up, and really... they're sort of okay with that.

I could do this all day, but now it is y'all's turn (and yes, thats the correct usage of the plural possessive of y'all). I didn't even scratch the surface of everything there is to love about women, so talk amongst yourselves about anything I overlooked. No misogynistic bullshit, guys. We're saving that for a whole 'nother blog.

Screw Jello Shots. Bring me some Gummy Bears!!

2006-09-12T23:45:00.000-06:00

I went to a few parties last weekend in Austin. It was pretty much the typical college party scene. It really hasn't changed much since I graduated. But I did discover something new. On Friday night, I was at a party that had gummy bears and other stuff . I found out Jello shots are starting to fade away. "Jello shots are fun, but it's a process to make them AND another process to eat them. They get all messy, leave your hands sticky, and they are just a paini in the ass" I was told by some young party goer. So that is how I discovered an alternative to those slippery, fruity drunk-makers. Gummy candy soaked in vodka, or everclear.

This party had gummy worms soaked in vodka. Then, they brought out some gummy bears soaked in everclear. Those little guys pack a serious alcohol punch but they're sweet and easy going down.

Saturday morning, we found some gummy bears at the house we were staying at. So I decided to give it whirl myself. I filled up a plastic container with enough vodka to submerge them. Then I just let it sit for about 10 hours. The bears went from small and hard to bloated and gushy is no time. They soaked up all the liquid nicely so nothing was wasted. They were perfect to take to the football game. No alcohol allowed, but they would never make us trash gummy bears. We filled up a few bags full of them and it worked. We were the hit of our section!! They are so addicting. People at the game were getting buzzed off of nothing but gummy bears.

These things make a great party starter. I highly recommend bringing booze soaked gummies to the next party you attend. And anytime you need to sneak some booze in somewhere, like a football game, movie theater, a boring college course on a Friday afternoon, bring some of these. They are guaranteed to get you started.

Beer Goggles

2006-09-12T18:46:00.000-06:00

This was somebody from one of the parties this weekend (At least I think so. My buddy E sent it with our Austin Pics).

Anyway, I need a pair of those. I MEAN THE GLASSES!!!!

Top Ten Worst Porn Titles

2006-09-08T12:13:00.000-06:00

I have been sifting through things that I had posted on my previous website, trying to decide what I should post here and what I should just get rid of. I found this gem! A friend had emailed me a list of the worst porn movie titles in history. He claimed that they were the title of real movies (Probably very low budget with ugly drug addicted skanks filming them to make a buck for their next hit). I did some checking around ( mostly with some of my sick perverted friends) and they could verify that several of them were indeed real movies. I got this email about 7 years ago, so I do not remember which ones they claim are real. although I think #1,2, and 10 were for sure real. You may have seen this list. Anyway, they have some nasty ones.

Top ten worst porn titles

1. Crack Whores of America

Nothing has been left to the imagination here; what you see is exactly what you get - freebasing hookers from the USA. Apparently, one of the stars is a toothless, smelly tramp of a junkie who gets jiggy with many of the leading ladies. I'm not sure if there is a market out there for this kind of thing but I've heard of everything now.

2. Dude, where's my dildo?

I had the fear that this was something I would do well to avoid due to the suggestive title but I couldn't help but wonder if it really was...or if it wasn't? After much searching on Google, it was apparent that it wasn't what I thought it was. It was lesbian porn. Question - do any lesbians refer to each other as "dude"? That's really fucking bugging me now.

3. Ultra Kinky ..79 - Bowlin' in her Colon

While it may have a witty edge to it's title, it really did make me spew my guts all over the keyboard. That really is one of the sickest titles I have ever heard of in my life. I would say it was the sickest but I'd be lying. This is the sickest...

4. Dead Men Don't Wear Rubbers

Enough said. Moving on...

5. Let's play Anal Twister

I wonder if someone has actually suggested this to Ann Summers / Victoria's Secret. You can imagine this sitting happily amongst some kinky lover's bedroom paraphernalia. Not really the sort of game your bring out at Christmas to play with the family but a very interesting game nonetheless.

6. The fat, the bald and the ugly

At last. Porn that has some dignity. Fuck Hollywood rip offs and tacky plot outlines. You just need some balding greaseball to get you off. Hell, it would probably a lot more erotic than this badass motherfucker. Too bad this title is already taken now. What will Ron Jeremy do in about 15 years. He already is fat and ugly.

7. Airtight Granny

Right, I just spewed in my mouth and killed myself in the process. That is wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. This is not MILF...this is GILF. Is that a recognised acronym? It should be...and it should be avoided like the plague.

8. Willie Wanker and the Fudge Packing Factory

Someone please enlighten me as to whether or not it was this particular movie that was responsible for Oompa Loompa porn. I really need to know. Man, that title really is the funniest thing ever. Even if you don't like porn, you should buy a copy. It would make charming conversation at your next soiree.

9. Big, brown, bomb BOO-YOW booty, Brazilian bitches.

Someone, somewhere has a database of porn and on this database, there are all the usual categories. Asian, Lesbian, Group, Bondage, Airtight Grannies, Oompa Loompa etc. but I have the distinct feeling that the above title is not listed on said database. Does anyone else get the impression that people are just making shit up as they go along?

10. Shaving Ryan's Privates

Call it a hunch, but this is more than likely gay porn about a bunch of guys who shave each others nether regions. Just call it a hunch. Rest assured, I'll be avoiding this one just as much as the others and if it wasn't for the titles, I'd demand they all get burned at the stake.

I hope you enjoyed yourselves.

PS: Please make some comments or add any movies you know of to the list.

Strippers

2006-09-06T16:39:00.000-06:00

I was watching one of those primetime news shows last night. I think it was Dateline, but who really cares. They are all the same anyway. The show was about Sex, one of my favorite topics. They talked about swingers, strippers, and Asexuals (People who do not ever have sex. They dont want to. Strange group of people.)

Anyway, I came away with several interesting takes on the show and their topics.

Swingers: The Swingers they interviewed were some nasty swingers. I mean butt ugly!!! I have no idea who would swing with them, except for maybe another ugly swinging couple. I have been to some sex clubs that cater to swingers, and I have to admit that many of the people that were in these clubs were fairly decent looking. They picked the ugliest ones to interview. Could it be they want to discourage this type of behavior, so they portray swingers are ugly people? I have no idea.

Strippers: This was one segment I was very interested in. I have dated a few strippers, have friends who are strippers, and I have been known to go to a strip club every now and then. I actually think they did a pretty good job in their portrayal of strippers.

They did mention that strippers can make up to $2000 a week. I can vouch that number is pretty close to the truth. I dated a girl in Austin that was a college student by day, dancer at night. She brought home around $200 on a slow night, and $400 on weekends. I would say she averaged close to $1500 a week, and that was a 5 night work week. I know of a girl who also stripped in Austin, then Dallas and made comparable cash. She moved to Vegas and started stripping out there. She told me she makes between $2000 and $3000 a week. Depends on the times and where she is dancing at. One night, she had a guy spend $3500 on her in one night. And it wasnt for sex!!! Just dancing and companionship. DAMN!!!

So, this got me to thinking. If I were a woman, had a hot body, and had some rhythm, I think I would definitely become a stripper. Shit, you can make over $100,000 a year dancing. WOW!!!! It takes me like three years to earn that teaching. I would save most of it, invest it, and then retire at the age of 35. I think it would be awesome being a stripper. It would be like going to a club everynight and dancing, except you get paid for it AND you get to pick the music you dance to. Add in all the free drinks guys buy you and you are set!!! Come to think of it, if anyone wants to pay me some $$$ for a lap dance, I will give you one. You can even touch me if you want!!

I really dont see the harm in stripping. Society has made it out to be such a bad thing. They chastise the woman who strip and make them out to be evil. You know where the problem lies? Not with the women. They are supplying a service. It is the men!!! (I cant believe I am saying this) Stripping is pure and simple economics. The law of supply and demand. You take away the demand and the suppliers disappear. Imagine if the world gets so crazy and dangerous that no one wants to travel anywhere for fear of being blown to bits. The demand for travel agents disappears, so the travel agencies close. Same would happen with strippers. If guys would stop wanting to see hot women dancing naked in front of them, then there would be no strippers. Of course, this will never happen, since men by nature are some of the horniest creatures on earth.

So all of these feminists who are against strippers should turn the anger towards us men. Let us have it!! Hit us with your best shot. I guarantee you, it wont do any good. But you can try. Unless all men get castrated or they invent some kind of drug to take away our libido, strip clubs are here to stay.

And we havent even touched on prostitution yet, but that can wait till a future blog.

What do you all think? For it, against it? Who out there would strip if they could do it? Maybe some of you already are.

Good News!!! I will be around for a long time

2006-09-01T17:42:00.000-06:00

I was reading Men's Health online (Why? I still have no idea!!!) There was an article about living longer and they referred to the November 2005 issue of Men's Health. According to them: "Researchers discovered that men who ejaculated frequently between the ages of 20 and 50 were at markedly lower risk of developing prostate cancer. [Also,] Men in their 20s who ejaculated at least five times a week were one-third less likely to develop aggressive prostate cancer during their mature years."

Whew!! No prostrate cancer for me. I guess I may have a shot to live to at least 120 years old!!! I just hope I am having sex into my 100's. They way things are going now, there will be some super viagra around by that time!!!

Just Back from LA -- Idiot Drivers

2006-08-29T21:26:00.000-06:00

HI!! Sorry I have been out of touch. I had to get away and so we all went to LA for a week. Nice city, great beaches! I had been in LA in January for the Rose Bowl. HOOK EM HORNS!!! But I was only there for 2 days and didnt see much.
I did get pissed off the second day there. I am driving on the freeway and there is alot of traffic, but it is in the right two lanes since they are merging with another freeway. So I am cruising along at about 65 to 70 MPH in the fast lane, when all of a sudden, I come upon a car going 55 max. In the fast lane!!! WTF!!! This is LA!! Everyone knows you go with the flow of traffic. Cops arent going to give you a speeding ticket if everyone is going the same speed.

Then I notice the driver is an idiot. I get up on the car and it is a porsche 911. COME ON!!! If you have that car, you drive it fast and furious. No one was in front of him for at least half a mile. You don't buy a Porsche to go the speed limit.

Then, about 15 minutes later, the same thing happens, but with a Ferrari. One of those testarosas that Sonny drove on Miami Vice!! There is a whole line of cars trying to pass him. Note How absurd that sounds: A line of cars trying to PASS A FERRARI!!!!! WTF Los Angeles. If you cant handle the horses under the hood, buy a minivan!!!!! UNBELIEVABLE!!!!

Anyway, I am back and I will start getting the blog going again. Take care and enjoy!!!

What the Perfect Guy Would Do -- REALITY CHECK!!!

2006-08-27T16:02:00.000-06:00

Here's another one of those bulletins sliding it's way across the myspace bulletin boards. I have seen a few ladies post this one. It's supposed to be things that the "perfect" guy would do.... with my responses:

Leave her cute text messages.

Cute? OK, if by cute you mean "HORNY?" or "BOOTYCALL?" at 3AM

Kiss her in front of your friends.

Typical female request. She wants me to kiss her in front of my friends, but gets all pissy when I try to finger her in the restaurant.

Trust her over everyone else.

It takes a lot for me to trust someone.

Tell her she looks beautiful.

SURE. If she actually does. But when she wakes up and has nasty morning breath, crusty eye boogers and dried semen milk-mustached on her cracked lips you can bet your ass I'm going to call her on it. Cause I may be many things, but a liar is not one of them (unless it serves my purposes)

Look her in the eye when you talk to her.

The brown eye? No seriously, I guess too many women think we stare at their boobs when we talk to them. Remember, I am an ass man!!!!!

When she crys do whatever to make her smile.

FINE, then give me a blowjob. Really, I have been with a several girls that would always start crackin up when I came. I would pull out of her mouth, yell Thar She Blows, then shoot a spout on her. I would have her give Moby Dick a kiss and have her clean him up. They were always crackin up after that. That would definitely make her smile

Forgive her for her mistakes

Translation: Act like a spoiled child for hours, then bring said mistakes up as unrelated ammunition in future fights. Oh wait, that's what WOMEN do. I have had that done to me a few too many times.

Look at her like she's the only girl you see.

No problem if we are alone.

Hold her hand even when you are around your friends.

Why the hell do women want to hold hands all the time? This ain't Aruba, nobody's going to kidnap you if I sneeze. Are you afraid of flying off into the stratosphere unless physically tethered to me? Have a little faith in gravity. And my friends are too busy trying to get their pencil wet to care what we do. It is ok to hold hands from time to time, but 24/7 is a little much.

Let her fall asleep in your arms.

I can take that for awhile, but when they get upset that I want to switch positions and give my arm a break, that is when I start to object!!

Get her mad, then kiss her.

"Oh, sorry about cheating on you with your mom. Wanna kiss?" Ya, that'll work.

Stay up with her all night.

Why? I am a busy man!!! I have tons of stuff to do tomorrow. Things like, like starting a revolution, surfing the internet for porn, writing a novel, and just living in general. I'm goin to bed.

Watch her favorite movie.

NO. You wouldn't watch Jenna Jameson getting it on with a Lesbian, then getting fucked by two guys with me, so why should I watch some lameass predictable romantic comedy starring Julia "Largemouth Bass" Roberts and Richard "Gerbil Fan" Gere. And no, I will not watch the Titanic!! Anything with that punk di Caprio in it gets shut off right away. Let's just compromise and watch Reservoir Dogs with a bucket of beef jerky and a tall glass of habanero sauce.

Kiss her forehead.

OK, but only if you'll let me give you a dirty sanchez afterwards. (google it)
And what is the deal with the forehead kiss. Why do so many women want that little kiss. It isnt going to get them hot and horny, and the last time I checked, there arent many nerve endings in the forehead.

Give her the world.

Last I checked our planet wasn't up for sale, besides, why do you want to take over the world Hitler?

Let her wear your clothes.

What's the big deal with wearing my clothes? The only answer I've ever gotten for this question is, "they smell like you." Well you weren't quite so happy about smelling like me when I was trying to cuddle you in your sleep so what changed since then?

When she's sad, hang out with her.

SURE, but I hope you understand that my definition of "hanging out" is hours of drunken kinky sex.

Let her know she is important.

OK. I will scream your name at the top of my lungs when we do it. I will make sure the neighbors hear it!!

Kiss her in the rain.

Once again: you do not live in the plot of a stupid romance novel. When I am in the rain, I have one thing on my mind: Get inside somewhere!!!

And when you fall in love with her, tell her.

OH, you will know it!!! Instead of wild, hard, kinky sex, we will have some gentle lovemaking episodes also.

And when you do tell her.. Love her like you never loved before.

OK, Then lots of gentle lovemaking episodes.

Feel free to comment however you want. I am sure some ladies are going to be pissed off about this one. OH WELL!!

Remember, this is all in good fun!!! Hopefully everyone will have a chuckle over this. If not, LIGHTEN UP!!!

Pole-A-Palooza!!! Can I be a Judge???

2006-08-24T16:18:00.000-06:00

This is my kind of contest!!! Sign me up as a judge. Here are some pics a friend sent me. He said it was great, Lucky bastard was in Vegas for a wedding and went to it.

Girls Kissing Girls

2006-08-22T21:16:00.000-06:00

Earlier today, I posted something about the new phenomenon about girls getting drunk and then takin pictures of themselves dry humping other girls. In it, I mention another phenomenon sweeping the web. Pictures of chicks kissing each other.

I remember back in the day, when the only place you could see two chicks kissing was a porno tape? Now it's happening everywhere, having made the quantum leap from my twisted fantasies to the next booth over at the TGI Fridays.

Look outside your window. Chicks are kissing. In the bars, the dance clubs, the shopping malls, the casinos, the pancake house. MySpace is filled with chicks kissing other chicks. This is a world in which chicks will grab other chicks and kiss them square on the mouth. And, here's the thing: many of them are not gay. I would venture most of them are straight or bi. Which means they are still on the market for all of us guys!!!!

These are magical, magical times for people who like watching women kiss. And I am one of those people. So I am extremely giddy in this new age of girls kissing each other.

Why do they do it? I'm not sure, but I'm certain the response it provokes is a factor. This stuff works like kryptonite, bringing grown men to their knees, forcing them to remove their wallets, keep the rounds of drinks coming, and stretch out their hands while exclaiming to the heavens, "Fuck, god almighty, thank you for girls who kiss other girls."

The only exception is when the women in liplock are over the age of 78. This is simply disturbing. (I was unfortunate enough to see this firsthand when two older ladies were walking in Valley Junction. I think they thought no one was looking.) But hot, young, vibrant chicks kissing? Man, that's the stuff. And by "the stuff," I mean, "thing I want to see happening as much as humanly possible." Keep it coming, ladies, and, as always, the next round's on me. I mean it!!! If I see any of you ladies out at a bar, just come on over, kiss your friend, and I will by you both a round of drinks!!!

Why Brazil Soccer Rules!!

2006-08-22T18:49:00.000-06:00

Damn!!! I wished I was back in Brazil!!!

Drunk Humping

2006-08-22T18:01:00.000-06:00

This morning, I'd like to salute one of my favorite barroom and/or keg party phenomenons: the photo of two girls pretending to hump each other. Anyone who's ever participated in such merriment, feel free to raise your hand.

In the second half of 2006, I fully expect this sort of photo to surpass the obligatory "girls showing off their thongs" and "frat guys putting balls on passed out guy's head" as the single most popular party souvenir. It is already starting to gain popularity on MySpace. I would rank its occurrence behind girls-kissing-girls, but in a dead heat with the thongs.

Nice!!! I am definitely not complaining!!! Any ladies that have some good party humping fotos, let me know.

Two Dollar Bill

2006-08-19T00:04:00.000-06:00

This story happened in Austin, TX. I think it was 1991. Can't believe people already forgot the $2 Bill.

On my way home from the second job I've taken for the extra holiday ca$h I need, I stopped at Taco Bell for a quick bite to eat. In my billfold is a $50 bill and a $2 bill. That is all of the cash I have on my person. I figure that with a $2 bill, I can get something to eat and not have to worry about people getting upset at me.

ME: ``Hi, I'd like one seven layer burrito please, to go.''
IT: ``Is that it?''
ME: ``Yep.''
IT: ``That'll be $1.04, eat here?''
ME: ``No, it's to go.'' [I hate effort duplication.]

At his point I open my billfold and hand him the $2 bill. He looks at it kind of funny and shakes his head.

IT: ``Uh, hang on a sec, I'll be right back."

He goes to talk to his manager, who is still within earshot. The following conversation occurs between the two of them.

IT: ``Hey, you ever see a $2 bill?''
MG: ``No. A what?''
IT: ``A $2 bill. This guy just gave it to me.''
MG: ``Ask for something else, there's no such thing as a $2 bill.'' [my emp]
IT: ``Yeah, thought so.''

He comes back to me and says

IT: ``We don't take these. Do you have anything else?''
ME: ``Just this fifty. You don't take $2 bills? Why?''
IT: ``I don't know.''
ME: ``See here where it says legal tender?''
IT: ``Yeah.''
ME: ``So, shouldn't you take it?''
IT: ``Well, hang on a sec.''

He goes back to his manager who is watching me like I'm going to shoplift, and

IT: ``He says I have to take it.''
MG: ``Doesn't he have anything else?''
IT: ``Yeah, a fifty. I'll get it and you can open the safe and get change.''
MG: ``I'm not opening the safe with him in here.'' [my emp]
IT: ``What should I do?''
MG: ``Tell him to come back later when he has real money.''
IT: ``I can't tell him that, you tell him.''
MG: ``Just tell him.''
IT: ``No way, this is weird, I'm going in back.''

The manager approaches me and says

MG: ``Sorry, we don't take big bills this time of night.'' [it was 8pm and this particular Taco Bell is in a well lighted indoor mall with 100 other stores.]
ME: ``Well, here's a two.''
MG: ``We don't take those either.''
ME: ``Why not?''
MG: ``I think you know why.''
ME: ``No really, tell me, why?''
MG: ``Please leave before I call mall security.''
ME: ``Excuse me?''
MG: ``Please leave before I call mall security.''
ME: ``What for?''
MG: ``Please, sir.''
ME: ``Uh, go ahead, call them.''
MG: ``Would you please just leave?''
ME: ``No.''
MG: ``Fine, have it your way then.''
ME: ``No, that's Burger King, isn't it?''

At this point he backs away from me and calls mall security on the phone around the corner. I have two people staring at me from the dining area, and I begin laughing out loud, just for effect. A few minutes later this 45 year oldish guy comes in and says [at the other end of counter, in a whisper]

SG: ``Yeah, Mike, what's up?''
MG: ``This guy is trying to give me some [pause] funny money.''
SG: ``Really? What?''
MG: ``Get this, a two dollar bill.''
SG: ``Why would a guy fake a $2 bill?'' [incredulous]
MG: ``I don't know? He's kinda weird. Says the only other thing he has is a fifty.''
SG: ``So, the fifty's fake?''
MG: ``No, the $2 is.''
SG: ``Why would he fake a $2 bill?''
MG: ``I don't know. Can you talk to him, and get him out of here?''
SG: ``Yeah...''

Security guard walks over to me and says

SG: ``Mike here tells me you have some fake bills you're trying to use.''
ME: ``Uh, no.''
SG: ``Lemme see 'em.''
ME: ``Why?''
SG: ``Do you want me to get the cops in here?''

At this point I was ready to say, ``SURE, PLEASE,'' but I wanted to eat, so I said

ME: ``I'm just trying to buy a burrito and pay for it with this $2 bill.''

I put the bill up near his face, and he flinches like I was taking a swing at him. He takes the bill, turns it over a few times in his hands, and says

SG: ``Mike, what's wrong with this bill?''
MG: ``It's fake.''
SG: ``It doesn't look fake to me.''
MG: ``But it's a $2 bill.''
SG: ``Yeah?''
MG: ``Well, there's no such thing, is there?''

The security guard and I both looked at him like he was an idiot, and it dawned on the guy that he had no clue.

My burrito was free and he threw in a small drink and those cinnamon things, too. Makes me want to get a whole stack of $2 bills just to see what happens when I try to buy stuff. If I got the right group of people, I could probably end up in jail. At least I'd get free food.

Jenga Drinking Game

2006-08-15T16:14:00.000-06:00

I had a surprise Birthday party Friday night. We sat around and drank huge amounts of alcohol and played drinking games. We played some of the basics; quarters, three man, kings, etc.

One of my buddies found Jenga at the house. He enlightened us to a wonderful drinking game. It was an instant hit. Some of you may have encountered this before, others prepare to be enlightened. I think everyone fell in love with this game. We asked the name of the game and he had no idea. So we just call it "Drinking Jenga."

It starts with a regular old wooden Jenga set, same old boring pull-and-stack action. Take a marker, and on the underside of each piece write a drinking rule, the kind of stuff you'd find in Kings or Circle of Death or whatever your particular group of friends calls the game. "Drink two," "Guys drink," "Make a rule," "Person to right drinks three," etc.

From there it's pretty self-explanatory: pull a Jenga piece, execute the rule, place it back on top, move to the next person. Whoever knocks over the tower has to perform some kind of drinking feat, whether it's shotgunning a beer, doing a nasty shot - be creative.

It's a nice change from the same old dice and card games, and as you can imagine, the pulling/stacking action gets a little more interesting as the drinks start flowing. My favorite rule so far, which I will definitely be adding to my list of Kings/Jenga/etc. rules, is the "five-minute power hour." For the uninformed, during a power hour the participants drink a shot of beer every minute for an hour - the five minute version being, well, is five minutes long.

ENJOY!!!!

10 Things that Piss Me Off

2006-08-08T16:58:00.000-06:00

1. People who point at their wrist while asking for the time. I know where my watch is buddy, where the fu*k is yours? Do I point at my crotch when I ask where the bathroom is?

2. The Pillsbury doughboy is way too happy considering he has no dick.

3. People who are willing to get off their ass to search the entire room for the TV remote because they refuse to walk to the TV and change the channel manually.

4. When people say, ''Oh you just want to have your cake and eat it too. ''Fu*k off. What good is a goddamn cake you can't eat? What, should I eat someone else's cake instead?

5. When people say, ''It's always in the last place you look.'' Of course it is. Why the Fu*k would you keep looking after you've found it? Do people do this? Who and where are they?

6. When people say, while watching a movie, ''Did you see that?'' No dickhead, I paid $7.50 to come to the theatre and stare at the ceiling?

7. I still get pissed off by that 90's radio ad: ''Hi, I'm Jeff Healey from the Jeff Healey Band. Don't drink and drive. I don't.'' Well, I hope you don't drive sober either Mr. Healey. You're blind for God's sake

8. People who ask, ''Can I ask you a question?'' Didn't really give me a choice, didja there buddy?
9. When something is ''new and improved.'' Which is it? If it's new, then there has never been anything before it. If it's an improvement, then there must have been something before it.

10. When a cop pulls you over and then asks if you know how fast you were going? You should know asshole, you fu*king pulled me over.

Hot Girls and Dorky Guys

2006-08-06T15:31:00.000-06:00

Jessica Simpson -- Saggy Boobs!!!

2006-08-01T15:58:00.000-06:00

UNBELIEVABLE!!! I got this pic from a friend. IT is legit.

That is so disappointing. I guess I always thought she would have some nice boobs to go along with her awesome ass and legs!! Oh Well!! I hope Nick was an ass man like me. Or maybe that is why they got divorced.

A possible Crazy Friday night heads South in a hurry

2006-07-31T21:28:00.000-06:00

So last Friday, it's one of the teachers birthdays at school. We are all teaching summer school and, against my better judgment, I head out after work with a couple folks for a quick celebratory beverage. When I get there, I notice that I'm the only guy. In the dark recesses of my mind, this is the sort of scenario I dream about. No cock-blocking. No flexing and pluming. Just me and a buncha hotties throwing back booze. One drink in, and I'm already envisioning the bit where one of them slips me a roofie and I wake up in some Des Moines apartment, tied to the floor while the women take turns straddling my mouth.

But in real time, one of them starts talking up her love life. And, before long, they're all on to the subject of blow jobs. And what should be an exercise in unstoppable awesomeness actually turns rather uncomfortable. Once or twice, they ask for my opinion... [mostly stuff like, "Where do you guys get that idea? From porno?"] I spend the next half hour blushing, nodding or shaking my head like a trained seal, shifting nervously in my seat, and wondering if the couple one booth over can hear any of this.

I end up leaving after only an hour. Sure, I could have stayed, gotten drunk and gone on a rant and rave about Blow Jobs, but it just wasnt worth it. These ladies seemed to be a little too anti-guys that night. I also have to work with them and will see them 5 days a week. I didnt want to piss anyone off. When I left, they were saying how all guys are jerks, we only think of sex, etc. Now this is true, for the most part, but I just didnt have it in me to argue. (You wont hear me say that often)

You ladies do this sorta stuff on purpose, don't you?

Alcohol Quotes

2006-07-28T17:17:00.000-06:00

Here are some famous quotes concerning one of my favorite topics: DRINKING

Sometimes I reflect back on all the beer I have consumed. Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the brewery and all of their hopes and dreams. If I didn't drink this beer, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered. Then I say to myself, "It is better that I drink this beer and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver."
- by Jack Handy

I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day.
- Frank Sinatra

The problem with some people is that when they aren't drunk, they're sober.
- William Butler Yeats

An intelligent man is sometimes forced to be drunk to spend time with his fools
- Ernest Hemingway

Always do sober what you said you'd do drunk. That will teach you to keep your mouth shut.
- Ernest Hemingway

Time is never wasted when you're wasted all the time.
- Catherine Zandonella

Reality is an illusion that occurs due to lack of alcohol.
- Anonymous

Drinking provides a beautiful excuse to pursue the one activity that truly gives me pleasure, hooking up with fat, hairy girls.
- Ross Levy

A woman drove me to drink and I didn't even have the decency to thank her.
- W.C. Fields

What contemptible scoundrel has stolen the cork to my lunch?
- Tee Mans

When I read about the evils of drinking, I gave up reading.
- Henny Youngman

Life is a waste of time, time is a waste of life, so get wasted all of the time and have the time of your life.
- Michelle Mastrolacasa

I'd rather have a bottle in front of me, than a frontal lobotomy.
- Tom Waits

24 hours in a day, 24 beers in a case. Coincidence?
- Stephen Wright

When we drink, we get drunk. When we get drunk, we fall asleep. When we fall asleep, we commit no sin. When we commit no sin, we go to heaven. Sooooo, let's all get drunk and go to heaven!
- Brian O'Rourke

You can't be a real country unless you have a beer and an airline. It helps if you have some kind of a football team, or some nuclear weapons, but at the very least you need a beer.
- Frank Zappa

Always remember that I have taken more out of alcohol than alcohol has taken out of me.
- Winston Churchill

Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.
- Benjamin Franklin

If you ever reach total enlightenment while drinking beer, I bet it makes beer shoot out your nose.
- Jack Handy

Public Hand-Ass Affection (Please Make it Stop!!)

2006-07-26T15:11:00.000-06:00

So the other day I'm strolling through Jordan Creek Mall when I get stuck behind this couple in their mid-40s. All is good except for two things: They're walking so slowly, they're practically standing still (and, as you all know, I am an on-the-go type of guy). Also, the guy has his hand secured snugly inside the back pocket of the woman's jeans.

Ass man that I am (see some of my previous posts), I have never understood the allure of the "let me walk around with my hand in the back pocket of my girl's jeans" maneuver. First of all, it's not comfortable. I love ass, but I also love comfort. And when I'm walking through a picturesque park, a windswept alley, or Jordan Creek Mall, it's all about comfort. If the hands are inserted into said pocket quickly, say during a spontaneous kiss or while pausing to whisper some sweet and sexy little smalltalk such as "You rock" or "Let's go dress up as pirates and fuck each other retarded," then I can understand... my hands are roaming your backside and sliding them into your pockets is acceptable, as long as it is only for a moment. But to walk for any great distance with a hand in someone's back pocket? Unacceptable.

As fate would have it, a few hours later at Valley West Mall, I see an even greater offense: A hookerish-chick in her early 20s walking with some thick-necked lug in a Gold's Gym sweatshirt who's simply gripping her ass as they amble along. No back pockets, hell not even a beltloop to slide a couple fingers through; just his beefy mitt on her rather bitchin' ass. I'm watching this madness asking myself, "What's the message here?" Is he that enamored of her backside that he has to get his feel on 24/7? Or, more likely, is it a not-so-subtle message to all us pencil-necks: "When I'm not pounding iron or quaffing protein shakes, I'm tapping THIS SPECTACULAR ASS! And YOU'RE NOT!"

Please people, let us use some common sense and relax on the public ass-grabbing. Besides, when a guy has his hand on some girls ass, that blocks my view!!!! Totally unfair!!!

A Possible Crazy Friday Night Heads South in a Hurry

2006-07-21T12:31:00.000-06:00

My Kind of Movie Poster

2006-07-19T15:20:00.000-06:00

Now, see, here's a summer movie poster I can get behind. No pirates. No guys with capes. No meteors hurtling to Earth at breakneck speed. Just Rosario Dawson's ass. As many now know, I am an assman!!!! Any movie poster that has a sexy ass as it's focal point is alright by me. I am not the biggest Rosario Dawson fan, but her backside looks pretty good in the poster.

This poster sells the movie just fine for me. What more do you need? The fact that there might be 90 minutes of dialogue and action built around said ass is only the frosting on the cake as far as I'm concerned. When I'm selecting a film to see on any given weekend, all that really goes through my mind is, "Exactly how much Rosario Dawson ass will this film contain?" For the most part it sounds like I will be disappointed. Reviews I have heard do not say there is alot of nudity and Rosario Dawson's ass is not the centerpiece of the movie. But with this poster, Kevin Smith is targeting my demographic. And for that, he gets my eight bucks and fifty cents.

Slippening Bowels

2006-07-19T14:31:00.000-06:00

Here is my submission for a Drunk on a Sunday. I'm kind of proud of this story because it almost landed me in jail and I am ashamed for the same reason.

One Sunday, in March (1996), I decided to go on a BarCrawl. I think everyone has done one of these, or at least heard about them. It's when you get a bunch of people together, get a map of every bar in town, pick a starting point and try to have a beer at every bar. I did this once in Washington DC and I think that I made it to 18 bars. Like I said, "I think" because I really don't remember the last 4-5 but I had them checked off on my map This time though, I went on a bar crawl by myself. I thought that it would be a great way to check out the bars of downtown Denver. I was there visiting my buddy from College. Paul was a doctor working at one of the hospitals in Denver. He had just called and said he was going to be at work all night and probably most of Monday and I should make myself at home and chill. I kind of felt like sampling the local culture and decided to head out.

I started at Old Chicago. I know, it's a franchise place that I detest, but
it was a bar crawl and I had to start somewhere. No one was in the place so I chatted with the bartender. I bought the first beer, then he asked me if I wanted to
play that game where you have to pull wooden blocks from the stack without knocking the stack over. The name of the game slips me right now, but the deal was, if the bartender lost, he would buy me and this guy sitting next to me the next round. I don't remember what I would have had to do if I lost because it didn't happen. I stayed there for 3 beers before I realized that I was on a crawl and had to get moving. I asked the bartender where the next closest bar was. He said "next door." Off I went.

The bar next door was an Irish bar called N'awlins. There were 5 people in the joint. It was around 2:30 in the afternoon. I don't know what you drink in Irish bars, but I drink Guinness. Guinness is the good stuff, too. I think at this point things began to get sketchy, and this was only the second bar.

I'm straining my brain right now but I know that I then walked to this bar next to Coors field. This time I had a brew in some sports bar. This place was huge and totally empty. I had my own personal bartender who seemed happy just to have somebody to talk to. I bought one brew and he gave me the second at no charge. At this point I had had 6 pints, one Guinness. I was definitely feeling fine.

I left that place and walked to this place called Dicks. They have them in Chicago. It's a place where the employees are purposefully rude, thus the name "Dicks." It's their niche I guess. My bartender was a woman who didn't seem to be all that rude but she did come off as a bitch. She seemed like she was having such an unhappy time working that she brought me down, and I was drinking!!!!! I drank two more beers and cruised. I know that you are only supposed to drink one beer at a bar but what can I say? I was drunk and my feet were starting to get blisters from all the walking.

After this bar I walked about 4 blocks to Herbs. Voss and LL know what Herbs is all about. It's a bar that is totally painted blue inside, but tastefully done. There isn't a single TV in the place. The two bartenders are absolutely gorgeous. At this point I knew that I had $20 in my pocket and I had to save something for a cab ride home. I ordered a Stoli martini with a lemon twist.

This was a huge mistake.

The owner of the bar was there, I've rapped with him before as he was the neighbor of Paul. I told him and Mallory (hot bartender and don't use the "where's skippy" joke on her, she's heard it) all about my exploits and how drunk I was. All I remember is that I drank that martini and became really drunk. Also, I didn't eat anything all day either. So I'm sitting on this barstool drunk as hell, got people sitting around me that I'm rapping with and this very urgent need to fart come over me like nothing that's ever hit me before. I was in so much pain that I had to release it immediately. As drunk as I was, there was no way that I would have made it to the bathroom without falling down.

So I sat on the barstool and farted one. It was quiet. I hoped that nobody noticed. But as I sat there, I realized that it wasn't just gas that I released. At first I thought that it was just a little poo-poo, nothing to worry about, that shit has happened to me before. But this time I could tell that I dropped a load. I guess the greasy Chili from the night before was coming back to haunt me. I played it off, hoping that nobody noticed, but then this terrible smell overtook me. There was no way that everybody in the place was not going to notice. I knew I had to get out of there fast so I threw down my last $20 and bolted out the door. I didn't have time to wait for change.

Now please understand, in Denver, the days of March are normally very sunny and warm, but at night, after the sun drops behind the mountains, it gets pretty damn cold. It's definitely over a mile to Paul's place but less than two, so I took off on foot. I made it about 6 blocks before I decided that I had to get a cab because it was just too damn cold. I flagged one down and hopped in. I was thinking about the crap in my pants and totally forgot that I spent all of my money. Honesty is a principle in my life so I explained the situation to the cabby (that I was out of money, not that I had shit in my pants) and he agreed to take me to an ATM by my house.

I walked into this 7-11 and tried to use my bankcard in the ATM. I was really drunk and I could not get it to work at all. I had no idea what I was doing. I walked out to the cabby and told him that I didn't have any money. At this point two police officers who were also at the 7-11 surrounded me. They asked me for my id and asked what the problem was. I tried to explain but got nowhere. All that's going through my head is that I have crapped my pants and am going to jail over a $5.00 cab fare and why in the hell did I go on a bar crawl by myself in the first place??? I told the officers that I would try again on the bank machine. I probably could have run at this point but they had my ID so it would not have mattered. I went back into 7-11, back to the machine and gave it one last try. It took every bit of concentration that I had to remember my code and read the screen. Karma came back and took care of me because somehow I was able to get out $20.

I walked out and paid the cabby, even gave him a ten for his trouble. The cops told me to head straight home, not a problem when you have a load of crap in your drawers.

BJ in the Car

2006-07-07T19:44:00.000-06:00

This is a reprint of my 4th of July post from MySpace:

What a 4th of July!!!! The little woman and I were drinking most of the day. We went to visit some friends up in Ames and went to a parade, then the drinking began. I took it fairly easy, since we were driving back to DM later in the afternoon to catch the fireworks there. On the way back home, my better half starts getting a little horny. She starts grabbing my crotch and next thing I know, she has the pants unzipped and starts going to work!!! She had never given me a BJ while in the car (At least not while it was moving). What a surprise!!!!

The blowjob in the car is one of those things that is awesome simply in and of itself. The car blowjob is intensified by the fact that it adds an element of danger to the proceedings. As the driver of the car, I know I have to keep my focus on the road. There are big-ass trucks and crazy seventeen year old girls trying to simultaneously dial their cell phones and steer their daddy's BMW's and Jeep Cherokees across four lanes of interstate. But as the recipient of the blowjob, I also know that the lifeblood which is so necessary to keeping my brainwaves nice and snappy is being filtered away to my lower extremities, giving me that slightly dizzy, slightly buzzed, holy-shit-I'm-getting-a-beaner-in-the-car feeling that truly dulls the reaction times. So there's that struggle going on. Also, if it's a particularly long drive, and said blowjob is helpful in keeping me from slipping off into a narcoleptic coma on interstate 35, then I certainly want to prolong the sensation and delay the spurt for as long as possible (one time, my girlfriend gave me a BJ that lasted for about 45 miles). Further, everytime I pass an SUV or 16 wheeler, I try to speed up, lest fellow drivers alongside me start snapping cell phone pics.

Worst of all, as a guy who just hasn't mastered the art of post-orgasm smalltalk, I find myself in a precarious situation once the BJ has officially ended and I realize I've still got 45 miles to Des Moines. After she obliged me the other day, I simply nodded, smiled, said, "DAMN!!." and "WOW!!!" I mean, what can you say. It isn't like we can cuddle and do all that lovey dovey talk. In the past, I just mess with the radio for awhile. I was lucky this last time as I had her favorite CD in the car. I just popped it in and she was singing right along.

Let the Blogging Begin!!!

2006-07-01T13:58:00.000-06:00

Hello!!! I am glad you made it this far!! These blogs will be a mix of past incidents in my life that I would like to share with you and my current feelings, rants, ramblings, etc. I hope you are entertained by them!!!!

Many of these blogs come from my old website that has since shutdown. I also have a myspace page that I will be getting blogs off of. If you want to check out the myspace page and blog, it is at this address: http://www.myspace.com/crazygringosob