Girls Night Out / Cut it off part 1

A friend of mine cracked me up with this story some odd years ago. She said she and her girls were going out to let off some steam on a cold winter's Friday in some little town in Wisconsin from the long week. Not exactly looking to hook up but not turning down the “sponge-worthy” gentlemen if his game was well intact. The objectives were dancing, flirting, giggling and wiggling certain body parts. One of them even had a science experiment for the night, rubbing some of the “kitty juice” ( as they called it ) on her neck to see if it really did attract the opposite sex. She said it was like luring moths to a flame hell even some women were taking the bait.

So from house to house getting ready, the checks are set. Breath, perfume, chin boobs, tight pants or that skirt that she has to keep pulling down with every 3^rd step and hair and nails just done. so when they walk in giggling and making them tits bounce while looking around like they are searching for someone it catches the desired attention ( you know the walk ), the women instantly start hating and the men starting circling like sharks. So it begins and they are out dancing and it seems she has caught the attention of this certain cat, they have been bumping and grinding through a good portion of songs, and she said she could tell he was wanting more and she wasn't objecting. He was tall, smelled good and didn't talk too much and she could feel him and she was wanting...

We all know how the late night scramble goes though, the lights are about to come on and everyone is trying to scramble to get those numbers before the club lets out, basically trying to finalize the deals. The lines to the bathroom aren't long anymore because people are already done fucking (don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about either ). So while smiling to her girls, ( this is the signal ) she takes his hand and they head on out of the club into better lights...the street lights.

It is here where the game has to be on point because of its moment of truth. So they were walking out in the parking lot out to her car and her girls weren't far behind with nice prospects. So he spins her around to get a good look at each other and she can feel a flirty smile come across her face. She noticed that he did this on purpose, he lined his nose hair with his mustache. Yes, it actually came out and down and meshed in. Now, remember this is in the thick of winter and while they are talking and she's not trying to stare, all of his facial hair is catching plenty of snow. So it's now that her girls have noticed this and some of the guys have as well. Unfortunately, there is no continuation because she gave her girl a look to come up with some excuse and they spent time at IHOP laughing at the whole situation.

But You Ate My Piece of Cake...

I will never let it go, even though it's been well over 30 years ago it's just what older brothers do, hang on to shit to bring it up later. I feel like I wouldn't be holding up to my big brother obligations if I didn't bring it up once every 3^rd blue moon at that perfect time.

See my brother and I were about 5 and 2. He was sitting in his high chair and I was on my knees in my chair as we were both devouring these last two pieces of wedding cake that my parents so kindly brought back for us. Not long into falling into sugar heaven bliss because the icing was everything back then, do I notice that I have to pee. I try to ignore it but the longer I try, the stronger it gets. I think ( even at 5 ) that it's disgustingly bad taste for me to bring my piece into the bathroom with me so I look at my brother who is looking at me while I'm pondering what to do about this predicament. I was actually shocked that he was still using his hand and fork technique because usually by now you could hear his fork land somewhere and he needed to get both hands on his prize.

I then stare at him and feel time slow down as I'm heading towards the decision of leaving my cake in his face, figuring that I've pissed really fast before and he couldn't make it out of that high chair fast enough to eat his piece and get to mine. So I shove my piece in the middle of this pretty large kitchen table and tear off for the bathroom. Mind you I used to brag to my pops that I could pee a gallon in record time, so I had a nice stream going, finished dropped the seat and lid, flushed my hands and ran back around the corner to see this boy shoving the last piece of my cake into his mouth. That's when he froze as though I wasn't coming back. If you could have seen his face it was like, “Oh you still wanted this?”

So to this day, I still give my brother shit over this and his repeated response is, “Man I'll buy you a cake” and I tell him no, I want to bring this up as often as I'd like from now on which is followed by the usual younger brother response the eye roll and walk away. Yeah I still win!

Stop Eating My Food!

I had a food management class in high school. I actually loved this class even though the teacher was a bit of a odd man, his tone through me and his clear and precise actions did make me think of people in the service (  he was a veteran ) but how he acted made me think he clung to his mom a bit too tight as he still had this little child tone in his voice when he spoke and this man was completely gray haired. He used to let me make whatever I wanted, whether it was baking sugar cookies and selling them in the halls, or barbecuing chicken and green beans while everyone else had that sorry excuse for pizza at lunch. He was awfully nice about that.

My classmates, one in particular this girl who earlier this week was telling us about how he was messing with this older guy and about how she was sitting on his face and playing with her cum in his goatee ( I about grabbed my stomach and doubled over at this point ) I couldn't imagine how anyone wanted to stuff their face down there let alone anywhere close to this girl. The day before she was wearing some green stretch pants and I swear I saw this yellowish powder in the crease of her butt cheeks like rosin ( I used it in orchestra when I played my cello ) I swear this is relevant to the story. You have no idea how hard I am laughing at how some people who are reading this now are doing what I did in complete disgust right now, this is wonderful. I'll call her “V”.

So one of the final mornings draws near as we are just coming to class to finish the school year as we are already finished with finals. So I'm cooking some breakfast as everyone else in class was. I don't take long cooking though and mine is smelling mighty good and is catching the attention of most of my classmates. My pancakes were light and fluffy, and my eggs were just right with some bacon and sausage well you know the deal, all the stuff that will give you a nice dose of the “itis” ( food so good that it will put you to sleep soon after you eat it ) early in the morning. I lay my plate down damn near salivating over it and I remember my glass of milk in the huge sterile kitchen, as I make my way back to my seat after retrieving my milk who do I see sitting in my seat fucking stuffing her face? Fucking V! She must have slowed down long enough to hear my footsteps and say with a huge mouthful of damn near a piece of everything on my plate, “I'm sorry, it looked so good I just needed to get a taste you can have it back”. I froze and thought of all the disgusting things she had just told us, and placed the milk in front of her and told her to enjoy, and promptly left class. Why do I still have fond memories of that class?

Faster Booties

So one night a whole gang of my cousins came into town. Now some of them live closer and some live pretty far away. Heck, some of them I've never even seen before but I've always felt that the more you have, the better. Being that I was still the oldest, ( and that I was around 16 and their ages tapered down ), they all followed me like drones, and after all of the running around and just enjoying our time together, it was time for bed. So we get to my room (why 10 boys had to sleep in my room was beyond me ) and telling all kinds of stories to each other.

Well after hearing of all kinds of funny stories from me, one of my more younger cousins chimes in with his story about what he saw in the park on his way home from school one day. He says that he was walking home taking the usual route back home when he saw this boy on top of this girl and it looked like he was hurting her. By this time my brothers and I had seen quite a bit of sex on TV or porn so we start snickering. My young cousin was still describing the scene, see he was walking from behind them, and he could hear her and she was getting louder and louder and then he said the boy was doing faster booties, and faster booties. He never bothered to tell us about how he intervened but I think that was because none of us could hold our laughter in after that. The innocent look on his face told so much, he didn't understand the humor and was still trying to defend the girls pain which only made the laughter louder. We have never let him forget this story and all he does is roll his eyes. I love my family.

Like I hit the Jackpot

I can remember in my early 20's that my new years resolution was to hopefully find a woman that wanted to have sex more than I did. Yeah so much for resolutions. Still I had some hope. The thing is, I dig women that try to initiate sex, so that I don't always have to be the aggressor. For years I've always been the one wanting to get into their pants, and there haven't been a lot that tried to get into mine, so I figured it would be an interesting change.

Well when I got back from the Army, I got it. An older woman, pretty fucking awesome with the high sex drive to boot! We used to spend so much time in her van that there are certain parts of the city that they have signs up for time ordinances that were made because the van was a rockin'. It was great until she tried those old lines on me after laying down that, "Good Ole Home-run dick".

This woman actually said to me, "Why are we kidding ourselves?" Right after a orgasm, now I don't know much about other guys but right after a orgasm I can get pretty goofy, but hell I already am, and that was a Oscar Winning performance! My lips didn't curl up or anything, I just looked at her and smiled.

Happy Birthday

She told me about time when she was married once, a birthday present that her (then) husband put together for her. He took her to a hotel and led her into the room which was completely dark and she could feel another presence in there, but she trusted her husband with a smile on her face. He removed her clothes and then kissed her on the forehead and said one last thing, "Happy Birthday baby".

She was guided to this table in the middle of the room, she was excited that he had gone through so much just for her on her birthday, which was a impressive change. She could smell the mixture of cologne and perfume, which confused her but still she said nothing.

There was no talking, she even mildly said, "Hello" but got nothing back and that alone scared her. Eventually she felt more pairs of warm hands on her body. Some large and strong and some soft and smaller. All of them slowly running along her body. From gently massaging the temples on her head, to the rubbing her cheeks on her face. She could could feel a gentle touch caressing her breasts, and very similar but eager ones rubbing her inner thighs, it felt like they were trying to pace themselves, slowly making their ways to where it was warmer, but going back to the outside of the thigh.

She just focused on trying to breath smooth, and trying to enjoy all that she felt. Finally one of them touched her clit and she felt her body ignite! It was a little rougher than she had usually experienced but still okay. The threshold was being pushed, someone was looking for her sweet spot with their long thick fingers. She didn't think that anyone expected for her to be one of the legendary "rain-women" because as soon as they went looking, a pool of sauce slid out on the table and her cheeks were sliding together.

She had by now lost count as to how many pairs of hands were working her, pulling her hair, massaging her breasts and nipples, squeezing her thighs, and arms, working her clit and her g-spot. She tried biting her lip to keep from screaming, everything was happening all at once but really slow, driving her insane. She was used to getting what she wanted when she wanted so now she was on the time table of everyone who was working her over, and they all seemed to have that slow agenda going on. Painful agony.

She finally let loose, and spray and wiggle and twitched uncontrollably. Never any kisses of any kind just hands some large, some small, all beautifully crafted a very memorable birthday present that she still day dreams about.

Lights Out (Parts 1 &2)

    The power went out about an hour ago, I can remember hearing the TV turn off and the fan stopped. It’s about four in the morning and most of the city doesn't know its time to get up yet. The fan is back on in the window on low and there’s a nice cool breeze coming through the bedroom. The fan was the culprit, I feel like it told me to do it, making the room feel so awesome even when I can’t see a thing. I wouldn't say that you are peeling the paint off the walls with your slumber but you’re breathing pretty deep and relaxed it makes me smile, thinking about how I put that ass to sleep last night. You have on a little brown see-through short-short nightie, you usually sleep naked and I can remember you putting it back on after your shower. I was thinking about just watching you in the shower and out of the shower the things you do with the lotion all over to stay nice and soft, girl I can just watch you. I know it sounds like I’m singing a JE song but its true. Thinking about all that you go through to look beautiful makes me appreciate you even more and thinking about all I have on is some boxers and you said that looked sexy too makes it sound a little simple but it’s not like I’m am going to go and shave my legs to be sexy either. Funny, the things you think about when you’re trying to fight sleep phase.

As I lay on my back I can feel you roll off my chest and turn away from me towards the window. Seeing your body from this angle and noticing your curves is working my mind something fierce. The thought of us making love makes my body ache and heat up. I think about how soft you are under me and how you hold to me, and how I try not to rush with you making the whole experience feel great. How you kiss me and it just makes my body react to you just the way you want it to, you play my body like a fiddle and you know just how to make me scream. I remembered the first time I actually let go it was pretty loud and it did nothing but turn you on, seeing you get aggressive like that only drew me into you more. Knowing that I don’t have to be the aggressor all the time is wonderful and you know just how to give it as well as take it. I can remember the first time things started getting really good with us, you were on top of me working away and then you saw something in my eye, and slowed down because you saw I was getting close and started dropping it like no one’s business it was so intense, so sexy, I was trying like mad to hold off. It felt like I was slowly falling down a dirt shaft while digging my hands into the sides as to not fall, a losing effort but loving the whole trip. I love that you give it to me just as good as I give it to you. In thinking about this it makes me reach into my boxers and squeeze the head. Still can’t see a thing and its my breathing that’s making the music in the room while I think about not wanting to finish. So I get up out of bed and go into the kitchen and get some ice cubes. I put them into a small cup of water and walk back into the bedroom. I put the cup on the nightstand on your side of the bed and go back over to my side and slide back into bed. I start spooning with you and kissing you on the back of your neck and letting you feel how thick I am between your cheeks basically a good morning to you. I hear you moan but not a sexy one, more like you about killed me last night type moan let me get some more sleep type moan. So I let go and lay on my back with this sly grin thinking I’m not done yet. I’ll just have to sneak up on it. I get out of bed and you ask where am I going sounding all groggy, I tell you nowhere playfully. I can hear you breathing hard just as fast as you woke up. I get some ice cubes and put them in my mouth and stand at the foot of the bed, knowing you are now laying on your back this is the perfect opportunity to wake you, have you my way.

I Slowly put my knees on the bed still can’t see a thing hoping not to step on you and that would ruin the whole mood. I am able to lie down between your legs with my head between your thighs. I can feel the heat on my face thinking this is the perfect place to be. My mouth is about freezing now so I kiss your inner thigh and you jump and it makes me giggle but my mouth is full. I can feel your hands on my bald-head and you ask me again but I can’t respond but with my icy tongue. “Dam you taste good” sounding muffled because of all the ice and water in my mouth as we both laugh from how it sounds. I lock my arms around your thighs as to show you, you can’t slide away from me, and I wont stop until I am satisfied. I can hear you grabbing the headboard bracing yourself as I slip one ice cube inside and you gasp and shake. 


The others are about gone now and I keep licking your core I want to feel how fast you melt it. I pull my face back and blow on you and you sing I love this. Your thighs shake as I get you closer so that makes me stop. I hear you give me a groaning sigh and it makes me smile. I sit there and blow as I feel your body cuss me out I let your love calm down and I think as I quickly work you back up to speed. I think about how everything is off in the house and how moist you are. I can remember you letting me hear over the phone and I was simply amazed. Now that the power outage is over it still extremely quiet and sound is amplified. If someone was outside of the room they could hear me lap you up. It feels like the sound is echoing off the walls. It starts to get more intense and I squeeze your thighs and let my tongue get stiff and lick really hard and fast, I heard that you were holding your breath, which tells me to stop yet again. You giggle I know you want to do the cussing for your body. I lick small circles in your thighs while you come back to me. Next I use my tongue, softly in the folds of your lips as you try not to buck my face across the room. Then I slowly work you back up to speed this time and I can feel your hips in motion with my tongue and I get you, right there. This time I use two fingers and slide them inside of you while I work you. Your moans are getting longer because I am drawing them out of you, I love being able to read you even in the dark where my hands become my eyes and I taste everything. You are dripping off my chin, this makes me smile thinking you are now my cup. I stop with the thought that you are more wound than a rubber band.

   I slide up to you and you can feel me bump into your thighs, as I get closer. I can feel your hand reach for me and I hold your hand and get you let go. I lie on top of you and run my arms under your back and cup your shoulders and grind against you, we are really making a mess and it’s so sexy. I lick, suck and kiss on your neck and you grab my head and we kiss as I slowly slide away from you and still cupping your shoulders. I feel where the heat is coming from and slowly slide. I feel you squeeze me and it is wonderful you hold your breath as I am going in. I give you a few deep strokes and you are making that sound already so I stop and I can feel your hips rocking so I pull out, “Not like this baby” I whisper to you. I slide back into position and slowly work you and I feel like you are going to break due to all the shaking and breath holding and its driving me nuts that hearing all this, you have such an effect on me. So I pull back and look you in the eyes.

   I slide back in slowly and this time I reach up and grab the headboard. I know you are used to me giving it to you hard, fast and deep but that’s not the plan. I will put the fire out shortly but I want to make this last as long as I can, make all of the teasing worth it. My pleasure is directly tied to yours. I slide all the way in and just hold my position letting you get used to this feeling, I can feel your hips rock up and down slowly trying to start the flow. I begin to give you real hard and deep strokes, I can hear you panting and your hands on my ass squeezing and wanting me to finish the deed but I kiss you a nice soft kiss on your neck. Then a double shot of me and from then on out I let you ride it out but slow. If you get it down it will be to my tune, I love the way you sing when we make sweet music. I can feel you get close and with all the teasing you have had to endure your body is pleading for me not to stop and I listen attentively. I can tell you are getting close and while letting it build slowly, and I thought you were wet when I tasted you. You are at that point now but this is where I want to keep you right on the hot button and draw it out slowly ever, so slowly. I can feel your walls pulse and shudder and shake but I am not giving in but your hips are moving and there is no stopping you. I know there is no stopping I have given you too much leverage to stop you and it makes me smile but I just say to you, go slow and you reply with “I’m trying but I don’t know how long I can hold out” and that’s so sexy for me to hear that I give it to you harder and there is no stopping you. I can feel your inner tremor and it's working me, your song is getting louder and I am back to going slow for you. As you reach that cliff I whisper in your ear, “baby get it, get it, get it”. You become incoherent and I feel like I'm in a trance by just watching you because you are in your own world right now. I can hear you dealing with how intense it is and I have yet to stop digging just not hard I want to still draw it out but I can feel it coming to a close, your grip is loosening. I kiss you on the neck, cheek, and the side of your lips and let you hold onto me. I know we can’t see each other but we are face to face and its wonderful.

We disconnect, and I ask, “You ok over there?” “All I am going to get is a smile?” Cute. Well since I won’t get any words I am going to let that set the tone. I place my hands on your left leg and lift it but not to put over my shoulder but to turn you over completely. I’ll reach for your hips and pull them towards me, but put my hand on your back and push it down towards the bed. I love just handling you. Your face is down and we are in business complete submission I slide into your with so much force you inhale and I love the way you react. I have both hands in the small of your back holding you giving me leverage to work you. Long, deep strokes is all you get and I can tell it won’t be long for me so to help this along I reach down between your legs with one hand and play, I want you back. I hold off for as long as I can but I hear you moaning louder with that same song as before and it’s setting me off. I stop but don’t move I reach back and pull your legs by the ankles so your legs slide flat down to the bed and your are flat on your stomach and I lay flat on top of you and reach my hands up and intertwine with your fingers You can feel my breath on the back of your neck. I tell you in your ear about how good you feel and now starts the grinding. I can feel it coming faster than I want it too because you are gripping me it’s been so long that I know it’ll completely take over me. I can’t last anymore and I scream. So loud!

His Brilliance Recognized

    One day in class, the children were given an in-class assignment. They were all given a choice of which color construction paper and to find this color in the classroom. The rest of the children found their colors in a matter of seconds, but my son was starting to struggle. The teacher saw it, the other students saw it, he was beginning to freak out, and I understand that pressure. The facial expressions he makes when he doesn't get something that he thinks he should, I just wish I was there to whisper to him to calm down, breath and focus, almost as if I wasn't there. Finally when the teacher was about to help him, he realized that he was brilliant. He turned around and smiled all in one motion, and put the little square up to his arm and the teacher said that she wanted to cry with a celebration but held back. See the square was brown, now when this happened the rest of the kids didn't understand why he was correct until she explained it to them. They didn't get that he had to think out of the box, I smiled because I noticed that he has begun to figure out a very important lesson, thinking beyond what he sees to find his answers.

    One day he asks me, “Dad are you proud of me?” I had to catch my breath and hold back some monster tears when looking at his little four year old frame. I said, “Of course, I am very proud of you little man.” I wondered why did he need to hear that, he came in for a hug, and for the longest time he just wanted to cuddle with daddy. Something that my daughter does but not necessarily my son, he usually comes at me with jump kicks and screaming wrestling moves. So while this is going on, I tell him about how smart he is, and how beautiful he is, he smiles and tells me he loves me. I tell you, I understand why those emotional mothers start crying over every little thing.

    I tell him about how he is smart by giving examples, like the class room exercise and his eyes got big, like I was there watching him. I told him in great detail about what happened and he smiled, I told him that, it was brilliant how he figured that out all by himself. That I was proud of him for not giving up. I told him about how I love how he asks me questions all the time, and they are important ones, on how to act, and the right and wrong things to say to people. I tell him that is good to tell the people you care about that you love them, and he does. That's a cool little dude I got.

Can you just watch?

For whatever reason I was extremely sensitive today

Physically, my body was so in-tune with my surroundings

That sometimes I would stay still and close my eyes to

Feel everything that wasn't apart of me. Like feeling

Of the fan lightly blowing on my skin, or my clothes 

Touching my skin, one hand on my stomach and the other

In my basketball shorts. During this time my mind was silent

My body was live and direct and my breathing was deep and

Steady, and sharp. Completely aware, there was no need to look

In my mind I saw everything. Then it started, and there you were.

In thinking that you were there watching, heightened my senses

The way I focused on my breathing helped a great deal

My natural reaction was to quicken my pace but I told myself no

The pause between inhales and exhales make my body shake

I felt like a cup that was full to the brim and was on the verge of 

Spilling, without a care of the outcome. During those fifteen minutes

I shook, twitched, screamed and yelled all completely out of control

It was too much, it hurt yet I didn't want it to stop. The main thing that

Hurt was that you really weren't there, I only imagined that you were

There with me, watching me, calming down, could you just watch me baby?

I'm Sorry for Taking So Long

    Thank you for attempting to spend time with me and my brothers. I now know something about how hard your life was. I can remember you telling me, "If you wanna go fishin' with me, you betta' do it soon before I pass away." I would always respond with, “Grandma please stop talking like that, we've got plenty of time.” The you passed away. We never ended up going fishing and I know that was something that you loved to do, and I knew then I should have just gone with you. I know I should have just dealt with the mosquito's that early in the morning just to spend some more time with you but I didn't, I took "OUR" time for granted, you have always been there when I was young.

    Your silence made me feel uneasy and what's odd is that silence is something that is apart of me; some people find it unsettling. At the time I didn't understand but now when I write this letter to you I can feel it, the difference is for me is it no longer feels unsettling. I know that you had a very different life than I had but I find it interesting the things that I've picked up from you through that silence. For instance the time when you showed me how to cool off on a hot day, by taking a cold face rag and sit in front of the fan. So for all the times that I do go fishing, I will think of you when I see the calm waters. I love and miss you Grand-ma'.

    She passed away back in my mid-teens this is just something that I have been carrying around with me since then, thats a long long long time for a apology. For the woman who taught me to sip the last of really good kool-aid slowly,

                           I love you - your grand son

Dudes Night, the best night for some questions

My dudes and I occasionally get together and BBQ and play corn-hole and end the night with playing some dominoes and talking shit to each other. After the BBQ is done and we are done tossing bean bags that ends up a bean-bag fight, we come into the real game. Bones/Dominoes.

There are only us three, J and T and I. I ask a question that deals with being comfortable with someone that you are trying to get to know, you know boundaries and it's sometimes funny and interesting to hear and see these reactions out of your favorite people. I think it's cool to try and learn more about these cats. You invest in relationships and the three of us have invested a lot of "us" in our relationships with each other, so this is a cool setting.

So I ask the both of them what if there was a woman that they went on three very nice dates with and for the fourth this night you suggest that she comes to the pad for a dinner and movie night. Now this isn't for the gain of trying to get into her pants, just to spend some time with her. So dinner goes very well and the both of you remove yourself from the table and go into the living room and watch a movie and then you hear it. She just left one go while laughing at the movie or you (besides knowing that MOST women that "WE" have come in contact with will NEVER do this) now how would you handle this situation? I love being able to ask these kind of questions.

Well J pretty much said what I felt, it's a natural body function, but I took it a step further, I'd rather her do it in front of me, not because she doesn't want to, but because I want her to drop those barriers with me, I want that closeness. I mean I would sacrifice my stomach to save her nose. Now I know what a lot of people are thinking, why wouldn't you just goto the bathroom when you needed to, but shit, depending on what we had, I'd be in there pretty regularly. But the point being, don't hind the fact that you are human in front of the other person.

Now T didn't agree, for a few reasons one because she's a woman, not a womanly thing to do, doesn't find it hot at all, but that wasn't the main reason, she's at his house. He said that if they were at her spot he wouldn't have thought twice about it. He saw it as she disrespected his house and would have probably ended it from that alone.

If you feel compelled please share your thoughts on this very special dudes night, for this was only one of many conversations on that night.

The Tale I told him

One afternoon before going to my nephews birthday party, I'm taking my four year old son to the store for a birthday present. We go through the usual isles with toys and after a while of reminding this cat that we are there to pick toys for his cousin and not himself, we finally nab a few and leave. Once back in the truck, he asks, “Why do the doors lock by themselves?” Now I could have simply answered his question but I thought what fun would that be, when I could give him some of my imaginary stories on the spot. So I launch into this long detailed funny, quirky explanation.

I tell him that the truck that we are in is actually a transformer, much like the ones in the movies. I tell him that this one is one of the good ones, and when he goes to bed, this auto-bot and I take out in outer-space to fight those deceptacons. I tell him that sometimes after victories we goto the moon and I roll down the window, and I'd swipe some of the moon in my hand since you know that the moon is made of cheese, and I eat it. Next I tell him that this special moon cheese gives me such awesome gas that when I fart from eating it, I make explosive rainbows, (coincidentally is our nickname for farts now, even my daughter says this) By now he has this huge smirk on his face and I hear him say, “Nuh uh Dad!” This being a goofy dad is some awesome thing. I love how my kids don't buy all of the things I just say out of the side of my mouth.

It's not chicken

 For those of you that know me, you know how picky I am with my food; not like the whole “my body is a temple” jazz but hell there is just some shit (boy doesn’t the word shit sound good in this context) that I just can’t eat. So when going to a restaurant I don’t experiment or play around with, ‘cause the last thing I want to do is order something nasty and still be hungry.

One day a couple of my dudes and I go to this Chinese spot here in town, and when I do order my favorite dish, chicken fried rice, my fault in assuming that they will prepare it the same way as the only other place I go to, fried rice, scrambled eggs, cooked peas, cooked carrots, and actual fucking chicken. Well the man comes out and brings it to my table and I reply with, “What’s this?” He says, “Chicken Fried Rice.” Next I ask, “Dude, why is my chicken in balls? Were you in the back playing with my food?” All the while thinking is this how cat meat looks when you cook it? Is this chicken? Why the hell is it in balls? “It’s not in balls”, he replies. I say, “How the hell can you explain the rolled up look? Man look at it!”


I said finally after some serious stare downs, “You know what, you eat it; I’m not paying for this!” The whole time my best friend is still trying to eat his food and said he felt like his food was going to shoot out of his nose he was laughing so hard. My voice has a tendency to go up a few octaves (you know like Mike Tyson, some of my friends even try to get under my skin just to see if my voice will go up and then laugh) when I get excited or talk fast. I don’t like to show out in restaurants because they have my food, and I don't want to take a chance at them fucking up my meal on purpose because I appear to be one of those people who think that waiters or waitresses are beneath them and I don’t believe that the customer is always right but this cat wasn’t even trying to work with me, like he’d never even seen what I was talking about.
So now I only order from one place and if it's not chicken when I think it should be, its some pretty damn good cat. 

Never Have Anal Sex after a Fish Dinner

 Most people contract some form of food poisoning at least once a year. Most of the time the symptoms are mild, and can even be mistaken for a 24 hour flu bug. Other times, the symptoms are similar to one having a very bad case of the flu, but rarely do people ever need to go to the hospital for food poisoning.
Just by its nature, the probability of contracting food poisoning from fish is always higher than most other foods. This is why, based on personal experience, I recommend that no one ever engage in anal sex after your date ate a large fish dinner.

We hadn’t been dating that long, only about a month. Even though we'd only been dating a short time, we were having sex since the second date, and it was the best, freakiest, porno-style sex of my life. Seriously, this was the kind of sex that every man, deep down, dreams about having at least once in his life. It was the kind of sex that I had wished for ever since my voice started changing. It was with this woman, and only with this woman, that I was ever addressed with the phrase, “Use your whole fist for Christ’s sake.”

On one now infamous date night, we were enjoying a romantic dinner at an upscale seafood restaurant. Through the entire meal, however, sex was all that was on our minds. In retrospect, every date we ever went on seemed to just be a temporary diversion from the best part of the night, which involved animalistic insertions, feral lickings and brazen misuse of food products. We emptied wine bottle after wine bottle over the course of the dinner, and by the time the main course arrived, fish for her and lobster for me, she slipped off her shoes and casually masturbated me under the table with her stocking covered feet. Completely plastered and horny by the end of the meal, we decided to skip dessert in the restaurant because a much sweeter dessert “was being prepared in her hot, wet crotch,” she said. I paid the bill and narrowly avoided getting a speeding ticket, not to mention a DUI, during the drive back to my place.
By the time we got into my apartment, we were tearing each other’s clothes off. Sloppy in our drunkenness, we knocked over two lamps during our horny, groping journey into the bedroom. Once in the bed, she got down on all fours, arched her back, and presented her delicious ass to me. I grunted my approval while aiming my rock-hard cock missile at her hairy silo. When the head of my cock began to penetrate her lips, she stopped me.
“No. In my ass,” she hissed at me, sounding both horny and angry at the same time.
“Are you sure,” I asked?
She giggled as she said, “If I could handle last night. . .”

Oh yeah, I thought. Last night’s adventure involved a clown mask, three packets of Pop Rocks, and a twenty-inch replica of the Eiffel Tower. What the hell was I thinking? Of course she could handle some anal-action. She reached between her legs and began lubing up her asshole with her own pussy juices. Where did I find this girl? I thought. I was in horn-dog heaven. Blessed. Not being an expert in anal intrusion, I slowly eased my way into her lovely stink-star. First the head, then a quarter of the shaft, and soon I was buried to the hilt between her ass-cheeks.
“Go slowly,” she said, half moaning, half panting in both pleasure and pain, I think. I did as she bid, and very slowly began pulling out, like a steam piston on an old locomotive beginning its first run in a century. Almost all the way out of her, but keeping the head firmly planted in her ass-iris, I slowly began inserting again.

“Yeeeeees!” she moaned and began diddling her clit. Soon she said, “Faster.” So faster I went, the tempo increasing until the train was running at full speed, the piston pumping in and out so fast my cock became a complete blur, her hand rubbing her clit like she was trying to start a friction-fire in her pussy.
“Gnnnnnnnah!” she screamed. Thinking she was close to orgasm, I pumped that ass even faster, faster than Amish meth-head churns butter.
“Gnnnnnahstoooop,” she screamed, or something like this, because the noise in my head was drowning out the reality around me, for in my head I heard a steam locomotive, chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-Woo-Woo! Barreling down the tracks, and somehow I pumped even faster.
“YES!” I screamed.

She started reaching behind her and flailing on the bed in what I thought was ecstasy―
“―Stop!” she screamed, able to finally get out the word I had mistaken for groans of ecstasy moments ago. She screamed this with such volume and guttural, primal force that it had the effect of pulling the emergency brake on a 100,000 pound locomotive running at full speed. The sex act squealed to a halt, and I pulled my cock out of her ass like the rip-cord on a parachute. Did someone order champagne? No, that popping noise was my cock coming out of her ass.
“Arrrrrrgh!” She screamed, as I yanked my cock free. And then it happened.
Immediately after my cock popped out, I was sprayed from belly to thighs with watery, fish-smelling diarrhea.

“What the―-?” I said, not able to get the word ‘fuck’ out of my mouth because of my shock at the brown funk lining my body. As she sprayed me, she seemed to be propelled forward by the force of the jet-propelled diarrhea, and she collapsed onto her stomach.
“Oh. My. Fucking. God.” I murmured, completely shell-shocked. Everything was still. I could hear my wind-up alarm clock ticking on my dresser. I stared at my shit-covered body. I surveyed the room to see if there was any collateral damage. The trajectory of the diarrhea spray was similar to buck-shot in a sawed-off shotgun; it was everywhere. Unfortunately, during the sex act she had been facing the feet-side of the bed, which meant that the headboard, my bedside table and lamp had poop on them as well. Even my bedside clock had a few speckles staining its face. The bed sheets: Killed in Action. A total loss.

I looked at my date, lying there motionless. I called her name. No response. I called her name while shaking her a bit. Nothing. Fear shot through me, as I thought, “Oh my god, what if she’s dead?” But this fear quickly dissipated when I heard her snoring. She was passed out from the wine. I on the other hand was no longer blasted drunk, because the blast from her ass rendered me completely sober. This night was definitely going down in the (ahem) annals as the all time worst date of my life. In fact, I had to invent a new special category, “Even the Devil would feel sympathetic,” to describe this night.
I cleaned up. I cleaned her up. I cleaned the headboard, the dresser, the lamp and the clock. With some manipulation of her passed out body, I was able to wrangle the sheets from the bed and throw them down the garbage chute. By two in the morning, I found myself lying on my couch, drinking Jack Daniels from the bottle. I don’t remember passing out myself, but I can say that unconsciousness didn’t come soon enough. “It was food poisoning,” her voice-mail message explained to me the next day. After some silence, she added, “The fish.” More silence. “Sorry.” She left this message the following day, around 2:00 p.m. I had slept until Noon, and, thank God, she was gone when I woke up. How do you face that? She never called me again. I never called her. I definitely learned two valuable lessons that night: 1) Never have anal sex after a sea food dinner. 2) Be careful what you wish for. There’s only one other experience in my life that entered into the “Even the Devil would feel sympathetic” category, and frankly I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell that story. Let’s just say that the morning after a great one-night-stand, the beautiful woman you banged the night before can certainly use your bathroom. . .but she shouldn’t be more comfortable standing up while she pees.


Best of Craigslist The Worst "Anal Sex Accident"

Looks like a foot to me

 A few years back my ex and I were at my parent’s house (a more founder memory), my pops was in the living room talking to my brother about something that was on TV. My ex and I were in the kitchen talking to my moms just carrying on a conversation. Soon I heard this loud outburst of laughter erupt from the living room and then it got quiet, this makes their conversation seem much more interesting than ours. 

 Slightly after that we started laughing about something different and as we laugh I hear my father trying muffle his voice but it was clear as day to me. I’m in the middle of a sentence and I hear, “Boy don’t you know what kind of diseases they got out there, some of them will make your penis look like a foot.” They said it sounded like someone stomped on the floor, cause I just fell. The room got dark, my knees got weak, I couldn’t breath I hadn’t laughed that hard in years. I must have sounded like a wounded puppy, lying on the floor in my own puddle of drool. All I could imagine was seeing someone in a doctors office, taking their pants down and this cat having a dick with toes at the end wiggling wildly. So envisioning that and listening to my pops try to tell my brother about sexually transmitted diseases about knocked me out!

Peanut Butter

My girl in ATL never lets me down when it comes to these stories, she’s told me so many and I know she’s not lying because somehow, someway they all intertwine into each other she just doesn’t say names. And let me say she’s got some wild ones too. So sometimes I ask, ”Hey isn’t that the same person that did…” she giggles and says yea. I have so many stories of hers in mind now because this has been my buddy for so long and we have a rule and it makes sense. If you have a story and it’s disgusting why would you keep it to yourself? Especially when you could watch, listen, or even read about someone else shuttering from image that you just brilliantly painted in their mind? Put it this way I have shared some of her stories with you all already.

A friend of hers, this dude always wanted his ass licked and she also has a girlfriend that loves having booty-breath. So she set them up for a weekend of fun. So they meet up at some spot and dude takes a shower, washes up and realizes when he’s done that he needs to take a dump. Handles his business and comes out and lies down on the bed on his stomach. She moves over top of him and lays down on him, and kisses his back as she slowly drifts towards his ass, soon she is face-to-cheeks and she spreads them and screams something about nasty ass muthafucka and peanut butter!


Anyway after this my girl tells me about how a lot of cats down there would take a woman that licks ass over a woman that gives head ANYDAY! I’m thinking this just cant be. Then one of my US Army buddies warned me, “Don’t let em lick ya ass man, that shit’ll turn ya out.” I came back with, “So does…” and he cuts me off, “Don’t… Just don’t do it man I’m trying to warning you man it’ll turn ya out.” Hell that was enough for me.

The Big Payback!

 Since its getting close to Halloween I figured this would be a pretty nice spot to put in my thoughts about dirty tricks/revenge, tis-the-season right? Well these thoughts are mostly from conversations I’ve had and my own thought process as well so enjoy.

A few times I’ve heard of women Fed-ex-ing a plate of shit to their ex’s. In no place other than Hot-Lanta a cat comes up the destination and a man comes out of the house with this puzzled look on his as to why the Fed Ex man is making such haste with this package in the thick of summer. The man signs for the package and the Fed Ex man almost looks relieved as he hops back in his truck and speeds off almost as he is the culprit.

This is part one of a brand spanking new story. There is this man that gets pissed at his girl but refuses to break up with her, who knows maybe it’s the power of the booty, well one day while in the shower he was trying to focus during his very personal moment and he sees her shampoo bottle – oh yeah – over the next three days this bottle of shampoo had become his emptying pot.

He’d finish in the bottle, shake it up and go. In the mornings when he hears the shower running he smiles thinking he’s really stinking it to her when women pay for that kind of protein treatment all the time. The second act to this little display is a friend her of this story was curious as to if her hair could be positively affected by a mans love juice. So she asks her man to comply.

Well one night the baby daddy comes over and asks to use the shower and she gleefully lets him. He comes back so fresh/so clean and thanks her for letting him shower because hes going to see his new girl and says, “I hope you don’t mind, I used your shampoo.” Yea, she about spit up her coffee but kept her poker face and said no problem.

Now I’ve spoken to several people about these stories already and it was my cousin that I’ve so far had the biggest laugh because you know we have to go detail through disgusting detail. Thinking about what happens to shampoo in the shower in the face and mouth. That conversation immediately went from giggling to if that shit ever happened to me… Right you could figure the rest.

She's Brewing a Stink Bomb

She’s brewing a stink bomb, is what I told my friend the other day. In thinking about women passing gas and how they are atrocious, yes I said it freaking atrocious! The reasoning being this, when most men pass gas (fart) they genuinely don’t care about how loud it is or if someone smells it, in fact they regularly find it hilarious. On the other hand most women are easily embarrassed by the gaseous outburst. The thing is since most women won’t just push they feel as though they can lesson the stench by letting a little seep out at a time, especially when sitting down in a situation where they can’t just get up and leave. Now everyone’s had the bubble guts! It's a human function to have gas.

To me it's just funny because of the women that I've known they don't want it being announced or known at all, and the ones that don't mind or do want it known, they were completely rare kinds of people indeed. Well the thing about letting a little seep out at a time, it's like building an army. The more that comes out and gathers the stronger it gets. Most women that I know will not pull off the classic maneuvers like “The Leg Lift” or even “The Cheek Shift”. Take time to practice some of these yourselves, man I wish I had instruction videos to go along with these.

Where I am from its just called brewing. The person in question is usually sitting down in a chair so they figure they can let out a little of it out, and little by little the stomach feels completely relieved. The mission is secrecy. You know the whole who smelt it dealt it fashion. The thing is they haven't took in account is the getaway. Ask any bank robber in jail thats final act to the magic trick. So when she does stand up and prepares to make her exit, there's this purple haze behind her, and we all know about if you walk too fast after letting that blast go, you have a tail. So basically most guys will “bust ass” whenever or wherever he feels inclined to do so, but most women will not, she will save it and let it brew and build and thus concludes my hypothesis why women’s gas is much more potent and stronger than men.

Prarrie Doggin it!

 Back in basic training in Fort Lenard-wood (Fort Lost-In-The-Woods), Missouri our drill sergeants told us that they had killed about nine copper head snakes that morning and we were to be low crawling around in that same area later that day, so all I thought was shit, man if I come face to face with a poisonous snake I’ll just shit myself.

We had these harnesses on, that were similar to the ones worn with the famous game Laser-Tag. They marched us (the soldiers in training) down into the pit filled with tall grass, trees, and obviously fucking copperhead snakes. The drill sergeants and officers start off by standing on the hills and shooting down at us, (now everyone has blanks) and as soon as this started we all ran and hide behind the trees and shot back. Next the DS's (Drill Sergeants, yes for once I'm going text style) were standing out and getting popped all day but they never walk away its more focused on us, and if we get hit we have to do some insane sort of exercise that punishes us for getting hit. Now there is this rope that is stretched between two trees and we have to get passed this without getting hit and they are picking people off who get close to it.

So I cunningly made it pretty close to the line and the DS's shot at other people I would work my way up, but I could see one of them constantly watching my progress so I knew I would get more attention the closer I got. There was a few others that have tried but got plugged and I ain't going out like that plus I have a sudden problem! I am prairie dogging! If you haven’t seen the movie Rat Race, I’ll further explain like this and I really want you to do this, slide your tongue out of your mouth and pull it back a few times. Well yeah that’s what I was doing due to the M.R.E.’s they fed us earlier. M.R.E.’s are meals ready to eat, dehydrated food with their own heating source, well being that they are dehydrated this cause one to have a huge amount of gas. Well I could feel this extreme pushing and I was trying to reel it back, get it? Kind of like when you can’t get that pen to write and you keep clicking on it thinking that if it goes back inside and comes back out it will write better. It’s almost to the point where I need to hold the bottom of my pants like some 4 year old who just made a mistake. During this time, I notice that I'm not the only one with this issue, one of my fellow comrades fixed his situation, he simply popped a squat and took a dump right out there in the middle of everything but I wasn't showing my ass to no one.

So my time is running out and the officer kept his eying me. So the time is now or never and I looked down the line and see two other soldiers trying to go and it gets his attention and then I make my break for it, and its almost as if hell let them go just to keep me back, because they easily made it over the line and he continued his sights on me, it must have been my wise crack about how he looked like a 14 year old boy, anyway so I just back and grit my teeth because the pressure is getting intense. One cat was some cracking jokes and they were painfully funny but I can’t laugh for fear of them seeing me grow a tail. If you could have seen my face of determination I had you would probably pissed your pants laughing at me. So I turn around and to see the officers attention switch to someone else so I start running and the officer turns around with a smile like he was baiting me, and starts shooting and I am too far to turn back so I grit my teeth even more and the line is getting closer and closer. From two feet away from the rope I leap in the air with my rifle in my hands and do a roll and keep running. I can faintly hear the officer's voice as he was trying to tell me I did a good job because he didn’t shoot me and if he were in earshot he would have heard my response. 

She got me back!

Man check this out ...

So one night I'm walking into work

I am thinking about her, so I called

So in the middle of our conversation

I notice that her voice gets softer

The way she breaths gets deeper

And I ask, "The heck are you doing?"

I hear her smile, "You notice too much"

I laugh and say no you're not

She says, "I don't know, you tell me"

A few more minutes into the conversation

She goes off, and my speech came to a halt

I turned all different shades of orange

The way she sounds is driving me nuts

And I have four more hours to go

Fucking torture man, fucking torture