Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Spray-Z Shows Undies, Cuddles Jenny, Punches Vishnu in the Groin

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By the wings of a shoulder tatt, I will urinate on home plate for this sin against Vishnu.

# posted by douchebag1
2:39 pm February, 11 Vin Douchal said...

Dock Ellis once pitched a no hitter while zonked on LSD. True story, ask Todd
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I once banged a hot babe at a UMass spring concert whilst in the middle of a tremendous mescaline trip. Took her back to the dorms, a freaking long uphill walk from the football field, and did her in my buddy’s room.
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She kept saying “Don’t cum in me” . So I cummed in her. Knowing what I know now I’d have pulled out and splashed her face like a rocking porn star .
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Even if porn was as prevalent then as it is now ( as in, free) it hadn’t evolved into the anal, cum face, 3some , anything goes shit like today. I didn’t know shit about shit then
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So , I sent my little tripping balls as fuck scwhimmers up her hairy cave. The colors, man, the colors were everywhere
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Everywhere, I says

3:12 pm February, 11 Magnum Douche P.I. said...

She’s got some good hover hand going. Wants nothing to do with this shirtless pud. I bet he smells like sweaty ass.

3:49 pm February, 11 Et Tu Douche? said...

Mmmmmm………. Umass Spring Concerts. While my memories don’t quite coincide with the awesome Vin D’s I did see some good stuff in Amherst. Toots & The Maytals in the Amherst College gymnasium. Old School joint with red clay. Albert Griffith & The Gladiators at a frat also at Amherst they played til 4 in the morning.
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I conned some chick after a party into thinking I had some Yam-Yam, Yam-Yam I says being delivered to my off campus apt. Doinked her silly while my roommate watched and laughed. When she gave up waiting for the aforementioned powder I sent her on her way. Umass was a fun time.

3:51 pm February, 11 Guid is Good said...

John Largeman has seen enough and heads for the nearest exit.

4:16 pm February, 11 Vin Douchal said...

Another time I had a little ath-e-letic spinner gal with a huge rack , blonde hair, cute little snaggle tooth and tiny hips for a girlfriend during a long summer on Cape Cod.
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She looked like a cross between Barbara Mandrell and Kristin Chenowith. Except the local-chick-maybe-40%-as-hot-as-those-two-babes version. I ain’t gonna lie
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So she saw a couple buddies and I coming down hard from acid one Sunday morning, still laughing , having a good time. Later, she asked me if I’d like to trip with her once. She figured the sex would be great, we’d have some yuks and no one would have to know
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Let me tell you something, fellers, someone should hand out a warning with mescaline that states, “Tripping with your girlfriend is not recommended”.
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Sure, it started pretty good. Once we felt some tingles we banged around and she got off super hard, cumming on top, doggy, sideways, I even stuck a thumb up her ass on one of her thundering, shuddering O’s. POP!
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Then the psychedlic portion of the evening kicked in. Aiy Yie. She cried, she laughed, she cried, she shit herself, she laughed, she cried, she sang off key , she cried , she laughed , she cried while laughing. She scratched a hole in her thigh twitching. She ate a burger then barfed what looked like a rainbow of rusty nails and pennies, she cried…..
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I figured the only way to get her to chill was at the beach. I grabbed a couple blankets and we went to a jetty and lay still looking at the sky for hours. When the sun came up she complained of lockjaw and chills.
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I told her, “That means you did it right” , took a dip in the Atlantic and went to the “Egg and I” for a massive omlet
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Barnacles

4:35 pm February, 11 Charles Douchewin said...

There is now a majority of UMass alum’s commenting in this thread.
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How many of us are there on this site? This pattern seems non-random.
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I’m bet Cosby’s here, too. Posting under a pseudonym like the rest of us.

4:35 pm February, 11 Vin Douchal said...

Also, it was a little like a Patricia Petibon full on performance

4:37 pm February, 11 Charles Douchewin said...

^ I bet. Sheesh. Good ole’ Umass degree.

5:01 pm February, 11 Charles Douchewin said...

Ok, the lot of you are always goin’ on with the stories. So it’s high time I ponied up. This being a UMass thread, and all.
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Ok, so I give an invited talk at Harvard, and a chick in the audience (from UMass now at Harvard), digs my performance. She’s not hott, I mean she’s from Harvard. But this was a first for me, I’ve never had a seminar groupie. In fact, she digged it so much, she comes back to Amherst.
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But that’s the only cumming that happens in this story. I’m sorry to say.
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We pick up dinner, beer from the people’s pint, do a bit of skinny dipping in the Mill river (with the beer chilling in the water – god I miss the mill river), and then go back to my place. This 1850’s farmhouse in North Amherst. Creaky wood floors, surrounded in pines.
So then one thing leads to another; we start slow and take our time till’ we’re off and running, breathing heavy – I get to the goods and she says ” Um, I saw in the river, I’m getting my period”.
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The record scratched; the music stopped. Because this was alot of blood. like somebody killed a cow. There was no going forward, through this river of red.
A bit – fine by me.
But this, this was like the last view Pompeiians had of Vesuvian lava flowing in the streets. This happens. That’s life.
The next morning, I made breakfast, and she left on the Peter Pan bus. Later that day, I tossed a tissue into my bathroom trash can, and inside was what an autopsy room trashcan must look like.
Never saw her again. Which is too bad for me; she’s wicked smart.

5:16 pm February, 11 Et Tu Douche? said...

Don’t get me started about the naughtiness that was Mt. Holyoke & Smith parties. Those chicks were hot, foreign, rich and above else naughty. Umass v Syracuse lacrosse games were a good time too.

5:53 pm February, 11 The Reverend Chad Kroeger said...

My friend Jimmy the ginger and I got into his 77′ Honda Civic in grade 11. We got acid and tripped. We went to a dance to meet my girlfriend Tami, the hot heartless she wolf , and her friends. We gave the girls some acid. We went to a party and it was great and the girls did acid. I thought I was going to get it on with Tami and her friend Saskia as they gyrated in front of me to Janis Joplin. Their firm child bearing 16 year old hips mesmerizing me as I came out of my blotter induced trip through all of Einstein’s creation.
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Then Jimmy started screaming and laughing like a maniac dervish or a little girl, I couldn’t fathom at the time. Jimmy was 6′-10″, a clear cock size taller than me which made the high pitched laugh unnerving as if my evening was about to take a bad turn.
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Jimmy ran full tilt out of the bedroom laughing as his giant melon hit a bulkhead and he dropped to the floor. At that moment I realized that Jimmy had a shitty dildo in his hand.
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“Graham fucks Michelle in the ass!” he said as he rose and started chasing the partygoers around with said turd covered dildo and copy of Assfucker’s Magazine in hand. My mind twirled and anticipated the worst.
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As he come closer to myself and the girls, his blood covered forehead and shitty dildo leading the charge, I saw the terror in Saskia’s face and her arm cock unfathomably far back before she let loose with the fury only a hot full-hipped Bohemian 16 year-old on acid could muster. Jimmy’s jaw shattered first, as her clenched fist rebounded upward from the initial impact to crush his nose.
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The trip to the hospital was a downer in retrospect except that I was able to steal a lifetime supply of plaster bandages in lieu of a teen threesome. The sights of that night while in halluccinatory bliss rivals only the ’72 hockey series as spectacle.
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Tami blew me the next day in a forested glade at Tupper Lake ski area in upstate New York. Jimmy underwent numerous reconstructive surgeries, went to college, moved back to this shithole and worked in the mill like his father Eddie had until the middle class was shipped to China. Jimmy jumped off the bridge a few years back after he lost his home and family having never taken acid again.
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I had a vision that another ginger may repeat history with a shitty stick so I went to Sochi and put mushrooms in Shaun White’s shampoo.

7:23 pm February, 11 The Dude (remote location) said...

Many Largefeet hover in the background, like that delightful series of Photos Ruined by Dogs Pooping.

8:20 pm February, 11 purpledrank said...

Purpledrank has been in South Africa for the past two weeks, setting back race relations a good 20 years. 20 years, I says. God, I have missed you all and by you all I mean I would like to cover coed Kelly in a thick coating of man mayonnaise.

8:35 pm February, 11 DarkSock said...

I…um…peed in a horse once.
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Clydesdale. Not braggin’…but…
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OK it was a dead army mule.
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It was sumthin’.

8:47 pm February, 11 DoucheyWallnuts said...

Glaad to see The Rev is posting in English again, or at least a close approximation of it.
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It’s interesting with all the new oil money and other benefits of the relatively open economy of the new Russia, it looks a lot like the old Russia.

12:42 am February, 12 The Reverend Chad Kroeger said...

In Soviet Russia, the acid takes you.
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lW0tKIDE4Xo

7:18 am February, 12 Ted Brogan said...

Reverse hover hand! I never thought I’d see the day…

7:45 am February, 12 Dr Magnifico said...

Fucking great stories ‘bag hunters! Respect.
I love the look of Jenny’s strong thighs.
That’s all I got.

8:19 am February, 12 Dickie Fingers said...

I would cuddle Jenny until Vishnu’s dick broke off.

9:51 am February, 12 DarkSock said...

Meanwhile, here’s Chapter 5 from “Plastic Surgery Disasters”. I present 80’s blonde hottie Joan Van Ark of “Knot’s Landing” fame. Looks like a balloon knot’s landed on what used to be her face.
asdfff

10:28 am February, 12 Dickie Fingers said...

Yikes. No renob for you, Joan.

10:57 am February, 12 Et Tu Douche? said...

This thread remind me of the time DW(Respect) reminded us of the time Dean & Frank had a 3 way with Gina Lolobrigida in the cabana poolside at the home of John Huston’s during one of his infamous swing parties.

11:02 am February, 12 hermit said...

I dropped acid on a Saturday night just to see what the fuss was about. While waiting for the drugs to take effect I shared several bottles of strawberry wine with an obese Native American woman who looked just like Cheryl Crow, except much fatter and uglier. I went outside to piss and found her squatted in the prone position in plastic kiddie pool with about two inches of rainwater sloshing lazily on the bottom, wearing nothing but a pair of yellow, rubber boots and a look of deep confusion. Not wanting to alarm her, I went back into the house and found a bottle of Dawn dish soap and a longhandled scrub brush designed to wash busses and large trucks. I began scrubbing her shoulders while applying long, green streams of the dish soap creating a fine lather which pooled in the dirty water about her knees and elbows. She would voluntarily raise her arms, first right then left, so I could scrub the stubble ‘neath her underarms, as she moaned softly with pleasure.
I asked her to flip over, which she did obidiently, soapy water sloshing over the sides of the pool like the Orca exhibit at Sea World. She lay there, looking up at me with those dark, pleading eyes, black and deep as puddled motor oil. I continued to work her torso with gentle, scrubbing motions, her large brown breasts swaying, nipples glistening. I deftly scrubbed her gelatinous belly in gentle, circular motions, moving slowly down to her cavernous gash. She had a large, protruding set of vaginal lips, the color and consistency of calf liver, which pulsated regularly to the rhythm of her beating heart. At the slightest touch of the brush bristles, these protrusions would suddenly retract like a frightened eel. They would emerge again, however tentatively, only after several minutes of persuasive coaxing.
At this point I went behind the bushes and vomited a purple stream of sttrawberry wine down the front of my shirt and shoes.
Finally, I crawled behind the leeward side of an abandoned Chrysler, fell to my knees, held my hands to my head, and wept ’til early dawn.*
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*This has been a complete fabrication, I was just trying to keep up.

11:05 am February, 12 jonezy said...

well, since we are at it. I went to school in western Virginia, so at least we’re keeping it on the east coast here.
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Buddy finds the two last sugar cubes of acid in the freezer one mid-week afternoon, says let’s do it. So we take it. An hour later I’m tripping balls at water polo practice, and then head to the designated frat party on campus for that particular evening.
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For whatever reason, the one sexy Korean girl in the whole school is there that night and wouldn’t leave my side. I can barely keep my own name straight, but after numerous blunts and beers I get somewhat level headed at which point I say I’m leaving the party and she says “OK, I’ll get my coat”. So, it appears to definitely be on.
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For a quiet, broken English speaking Korean girl (I’m talking FROM Korea), she sure could give some ridiculous head. But this is where it gets good…
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I decided to go for the gold, and throw a jimmy hat on and start going to work, but my mind detours back into trip-zone and I simply cannot hold it together. This is likely all within 2 or 3 minutes I assume, so instead of just losing the erection cuz I can’t keep my mind straight and focused on this activity, I decide to fake an orgasm to put an end to it. I still get a kick out of this fact. Who says only girls can fake it.
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What felt like literally 2 minutes later, a knock on my apt front door, out in the living room, door swings open and in walks my buddy with two hot blonde broads. I jump out of bed, throw on some shorts and meet him in the kitchen, closing the bedroom door behind me. He says, these girls want to keep partying and nothing else is open, you got any booze? Out comes the Aristocrat vodka handle and we hang out doing shots for about 2 hours in my living room while Korean girl is still in my bedroom- without me providing any update to her whatsoever.
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Sure enough, I get to making out with the one blonde in my kitchen while my buddy is with the other in the living room. I say let’s do this- she says lets go in your room- I say we can’t. It becomes painfully, clearly obvious why after her short interview, but it does not deter her. She asks her friend if she can get a pick up at 9 in the morning, and her friend says yes and leaves with my buddy.
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I finally get my nut off at about 5 in the morning on my couch. I tell her it isn’t going to work with both of us sleeping on the couch, leave her there with a blanket and return to my room [try to wake the Korean girl up for a second session to no avail] and go to sleep rather content in my escapades.
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I wake up about 10 and both girls are gone, so I head to class and my buddy that gave me the acid asks- how’d the trip go for you?
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He still can’t believe it. Neither can I. I don’t have too many stories that get that scandalous so thanks for reminding me of it Vin- been a long time since I even remembered it happened.
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By the way, that Korean girl was roommates with the new CNN India field correspondent who was SUPER smoking in college. Looks like she’s filled out a bit over the years but still looking pretty hot with her Nepalese bone structure. Sumnata something or other.

11:26 am February, 12 Et Tu Douche? said...

Don’t get Nitrous wrong, getting your knob shined while sucking gas from a giant blue balloon as your former room mate is boinking her from behind is right on.

11:32 am February, 12 Vin Douchal said...

Nice, ^ all of ya’s. Good work all around
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Jonezy reminded me of another non-trippin’ yet amusing chapter from them days:
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We went to a 25 ¢ drink night. These were big back in the day , mostly for drumming up business on Wednesdays and Thursdays during the cold harsh , boring, soul crushingly lonely winters on The Cape
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Well for some reason Stingers were included. So my group of dudes ( five of us) sucked down 25¢ shit draft beer and Stingers
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Around 11:30 PM I was ready to pick up a gal since this was a well known pick up club. I hit on this (what I thought) cute thing with long brown hair and a gigantical rack
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I thought she was a’ight however later one of the dudes described her as “A beer can with tits”.
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So we go to her place, go to her room and knock it out in the dark a few times. I get tthirsty and get up to look for the kitchen, absentmindedly flicking the light switch on as I pass through the door…..
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So I find a 2 litre Orange Crush and suck down a gigantic gulp, maybe half of the bottle then head back to the room…
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When I get there I see this gal in the light for the first time. She’s laying on her back, long saggy teats hanging in her nasty, hairy armpits. Beer gut heaving up and down while she snored so loud/deeply that she could have drowned out a jackhammer. She had a thick appendix operation scar that gave her three belly buttons , all of this surrounded by discolored stretch marks ….
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And worst of all, she must have queefed something horrid because it smelt like dead whale in there…..
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I barfed on her vein-y legs. A stream of orange and chunky licorice tasting (Thanks!, Stingers) bile from the depths of hell….
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I quickly got dressed and said loudly, “I CAN’T STAY HERE UNDER THESE CONDITIONS” and drove home

12:07 pm February, 12 FredN. said...

Got me nonstop giggles, Vin, with that tag line. Thanky

1:32 pm February, 12 The Dude said...

I am concerned about identifying myself too precisely here – not for legal reasons, more like all my buds who now cast their NSA-supervised glances upon this hallowed site will totally know it’s me, and one of them will be like “hey, The Dude! I was the roommate that walked in on you inspecting the oven light in the kitchen because you jumped off the Man-Eating Couch and left your Music History teacher visionless and perplexed because she had been sucking your knob – and, what the fuck were you ON?!” lol

2:35 pm February, 12 THEONETRUEDOUCHE said...

I’ll chip in, but not Umass- at my small midwestern institution of higher learning, drugs were not so easy to come by. However, the urge to be hip and experience “life” often psuhed some hotties to make choices they might regret. Which leads to a nice young lady I met at a 60’s party- the party was called whenever the temperature hit 60 degrees following a long harsh winter. It did not matter where you were or what you were doing, it hits 60 and the party starts. It also had a 60’s theme. So wanting to join the fun I donned some hippe garb and faked that hippe, tuned in, far out persona. Sadly Suzy from Kenosha had a hard time seperating fiction from reality. As she continued to question me as to the heightened experiences while on a chemically induced awakening, I ponder what to do. A sugar cube with a dot of pepsi was the choice. We each took one. Of course as this was her first “trip” I had to make sure we were in a safe place, away from too much stimulation. Of course I had no idea what I was talkng about. My quiet dorm room was just the ticket. Dimmed lights soft music, pillows, blankets, and anything soft on the ground. After a few minutes, I say wow, your eyes are sparkling like shining right into my soul. She desperately wanted to have an experience so she chimes in, getting deeper into it. The next move was key- I reach to touch her leg, It looks so soft, may I- she agrees and I tell her how it feels, like satin, smooth, not slippery but like my hand could be pulled right into it. I keep touching her and ask if she can feel it. She says yes, I ask her to touch me- she says where” Everywhere I say and rip my clothes off like I’m just a free spirit. She goes nuts as she gets deeper into to it. I’m taking her clothes off. We keep going and by the end it is like she has had this wild experience-allowed because her mind was altered-As I lean back watching her get dressed, I am just thinking I am the master. I stand up to make sure she is ok to leave-still playing the role of hippie to newbie-. She kisses my cheek, opens the door and says, “The pepsi was a nice touch” Damn she played that well.

3:55 pm February, 12 The Reverend Chad Kroeger said...

I like dames like that^
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MLrC7e3vSv8

5:20 pm February, 12 FredN. said...

Damn these stories make me want to share, but my semi-anonymous handle is already desperately thin.
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I CAN’T STAY HERE UNDER THESE CONDITIONS

6:05 pm February, 12 DarkSock said...

Alright, dammit. I can’t match the majesty of hermit’s beautiful, albeit fictitional, story. But I got a true story I can toss in.
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So I’d just broken up with this wild-ass mean little 4′-11″ bubble-butt hour-glass shaped spinner named Christie; think of a white trailer-trash Tila Tequila…oh yeah. But the bitch was Kuh-Razee so to the curb she went after pretty much marking off every single box on my sexual bucket list, and then adding a few I’d never even considered.
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A month or so later I had segued into a serious relationship with the soon-to-be-Mrs-Sock-then-ex-Mrs.-Sock-then-Mrs-Sock-once-again-and-then-finally-the-ex-ex-Mrs-Sock. Long Story. But Mrs. Sock was, and is, hot as hell. You know that nekked picture of Marilyn Monroe laying on that red satin bed?
aas
Yeah, that.
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Anyway, it’s a nice Saturday afternoon and we’re in my bedroom. The college roomies are gone (ahhh my early 20’s). It’s lookin’ good.
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In bursts Christy, without warning, with a wild bovine-in-the-slaughterhouse look in her eyes and a razor box-cutter jutting forth in her trembling hands.
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“I’LL CUT THE BITCH!!! WHERE ARE THEY? THAT BITCH AIN’T GETTIN’ ‘EM!!!”
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“um…hey Christy; have you met Bre..”
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“FUCK YOU BOTH!! HAND THEM OVER NOWWW!!!” she yowled in the voice of an un-anesthetized cat being spayed with a rusty melon-baller.
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“Beg pardon?”
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“I…want…my fucking dildos…NOW.”
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Ahhh yes. I’d forgotten about the special shoebox full o’ toys in the top shelf of my closet. I walked over, took the razor from her, reached into the closet and handed her the assorted toys our drunk asses had purchased in a boozy spree at Ye Olde Sex Shoppe ’round the corner. She marched stiffly out of the room and out of my life with as much dignity as she could muster as the assorted thick dongs and vibrators thunked deadly against the walls of the cardboard box.
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I turned aghast to face Brenda, for once having nothing smart-ass to say.
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She just shrugged and said “I guess we’ll need to go get our own”.
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Yeah, we had 20 years of fun. Christy got fat.
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Good times. Son.

8:14 pm February, 12 Douchble Helix said...

I never thought I’d be writing a letter to The Penthouse Forum…

4:48 pm February, 13 hermit said...

Darksock’s sexual bucket list already filled by his early twenties might explain the fascination with horses.

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