Wednesday, February 12, 2014
Spray-Z Is a Giant Ball of She-Leech
And if you have to ask what a Giant Ball of She-Leech is, I point you no further then the Turtle Leeches of Mexico.
Okay, so I got a late start on updating the site today. I was out all night doing crazzzzy things. Like what? Like… uhm… okay. This.
Cuz I’m crazy like that.
Diapers…..You poor schmo. Wait till she gets out of diapers and into ungratefulness.
Dudes: Keep going back to the last thread and adding your yarns of inebriated and drug addled exploits.
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Got some great Women’s Olympic hockey action this morning before work as Canada took on the USA team.
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I’m thinking the Lamoureux twins are hot as fucck and there’s a special place in hell for me for what I’d like to do to Hilary Knight, goal scoring hotness with the long legs.
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Got a Love Jones for Hilary
Choice biodiversity reference, DB1.
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But I’ma take Vin’s advice.
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I CAN’T STAY HERE UNDER THESE CONDITIONS.
@Vin,
You mean like getting hammered at The Wooden Shoe, Captain Parkers, The DockSide and then nursing your hang over the next day at Craigville Pizza before heading up the road to Mashpee and spending a rainy afternoon at Zachary’s playing Golden Tee and chatting up the talent? if so then no I don’t have anymore stories.
What is he thinking- “Oh please no more pictures.”
Sweet Tebus it’s been a fucking cold winter up here in the northern part of the northern hemi-sphere. I’m thinkin up another story. Did I ever mention fucking my cousin on a golf course or going vulgar to turn a cold bitch on I wonder.? Do the two tales intertwine?
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“I CAN’T STAY HERE UNDER THESE CONDITIONS”
@ Et Tu
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Ya know, these are winter time stories mostly so it would have been The Compass Lounge for 25¢ night , Bobby Byrnes for banging women 10-20 years older then us and Jack’s Pizza for the fuckken BOMB , DOPE ASSed pies ever. EVER!
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There once was a bar on Ocean Street half way between the beach and Main Street in a residential area called, The Landing. We could drink when underaged because we played on their softball team. And we were hairy, scraggs with stringy mops and unkept beards
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The hags in this place were legendary. Blow you in the bathroom for a shot of Jack. Let you stick beer bottles up their puss while they did it.
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Most of the time, dudes getting hummers didn’t even lock the men’s room door as it had a urinal and a stall and , ya know, what if someone else had to take a wizz,,…… ya know… just because you’re gonna nut doesn’t mean you have to inconvenience someone else. That’s just selfish …
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So my legal drinking age birthday rolled around and I told the bartender, ” I drink for free today” He looks at my ID and turns redfaced…. “Hey! You’ve been drinking in here for two years !”
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Having only drank beer up to that point I decided I’d drink Tequila Sunrises. Why not? They had orange juice in ’em so they must be alright….. I had 12 of them ,,,, then the spins kicked in
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I zig zag staggered out the back door and hugged the giant tire of a tow truck as I emptied out , barfing in loud barks returned by the neighborhood dogs.
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This place was next to a marsh and if you know anything about marshes , low tide is not very pleasant on the nose. The smell of tequila today still makes me hurl a little in my mouth thinking about the low tide and O.J. bile mix in my senses
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Anyway,… they thought it would be funny to have a hag blow me while I was outside. Needless to say, it did not happen and I woke up at closing time from the boot of the bartender …”Pull yer pants up and go home, kid!”
I NekNominate Dark Sock to tell a story of winter woe in the south. Son.
One time back in my 20’s I was working selling cars on Saturdays at Donnelly’s Ottawa Ford while attending a diploma program in international affairs between the two universities there. Never did fuck all with it but it was ayight. Selling cars was a hoot.
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So I go out to drink at the local pub with the greeter, receptionist, and finance girls after work one Saturday. These chicks were nice and I eventually banged a few after they turned 18. This was the 80’s, so Rev Chad as he exists today did not exist then and vice versa. I miss that skinny young scrapper in his pin-stripe finery and Wall Street hair. Anyways, I’m starting to get drunk when I see a gaggle of woo chicks about my agedness stagger buy and I recognized the one that had a ball and chain around her ankle. “Norma!” I says. It was Norma the screamer that went out with another guy named Jimmy L. who was a housemate of mine in the undergrad days.
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“RevChad!’ she says. “Girlth….. this ith one of the nithest guys I ever met, alwathz the gentlemans.” She proceeded to introduce me to her friends who were treating her to her bachelorette party. I says goodbye to the office Betties and joined the bachelorette party. So we go across the river to party in Quebec until the wee hours and go back to Jimmy and Norma’s apartment.
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Now I’m all about decorum. The girls start to fade and they’re trying to set Norma up for a last fuck. Well I’m not that kind of guy but Norma starts talking all weird and asking me to lay beside her and I oblige, wishing her good luck and shit while the other girls giggle in the other bedroom. I explain to her that won’t happen and tell her she’s marrying a good guy.
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So I tell them it was nice to meet them and I was leaving. This one chick Kari says wait I’ll go with you. She was hammered but 21 so I didn’t fucking care. A hole’s a hole. So I go to her place and we get whacked on some opium laced hash I had in my wallet. Her place had an obvious mess about it and I asked her where her roommate was. ” I don’t fucking hab no roomate let’s go into the bedroom.” So I knew this was happening the minute I saw her. I was going at her and she kept yelling “Surge! Surge!” I’m diving my face in as hard as I can in reponse to her pleas, and she’s wasted. “Surge! Surge!” she says. I’m thinking its just her way of saying fuck me harder and she’s fucking wasted and I got a hungry boner boner so I don’t care what this minx says. I bang her up against the wall until she stops me and says “You’ve got it in the wrong hole! Surge!” I put it in the right hole and fucked her good and proper and surged till I squirted and she passed out.”Surge! Surge!” I think to myself quizzically after a great night of single fun and smile on my cab ride home.
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I saw my friend Jimmy L. a few weeks later at a restaurant with Norma at brunch the week before the wedding sitting with some dude. I hadn’t seen Norma since, but she had a very uncomfortable look an her face. Just as notice Norma’s unease, I catch the site of this striking Italian chick out of the corner, I realize that the girl is Kari. Her smile turns to shame just as I hear Jimmy say, “Sit down and have a drink with us, by the way, I’d like you to meet Serge.”
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Jimmy and Norma worked hard, went to teacher’s college and won a million bucks at some slot machine, paid of their mortgage, put their son through rehab, and have lived happily ever after. I see them a few times a year. I saw Kari again at their wedding and fucked her again. She never married Serge and I haven’t heard her name since.
Eddie Money busted up me and my best friend and caused my now ex-wife to curse at them both and kick them out of my life forever as well as who ever than bean eating skank they broke into my house and shagged on our fiancee bed.
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Long story. I’m too tired to lay it out. I did a different Me and The Future Ex Ms. Sock story in the previous thread.
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I’m tired.
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Son.
Oh…and hide your used diapers, Boss.
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I wouldn’t click on that link if I were you.
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Jacques.
And for the record this guy Jason Isbell, ex-Drive By Trucker, is fuccen amazing and his wife is a hottie fiddler. This is perhaps the best depression-era song about a serial killer ever written.
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Southerners.
I’m fairly gay for this dude…but I’m gayer for his lovely wife.
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Cuckolders.
That’s a charming story from Rev Chad…almost made me tear up a little. Almost…
SURGE indeed!