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.

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. 

Dumb Ass IM's

This one is going to be pretty short and sweet, well to me anyway. Through all the years of chatting I'm sure that we've all come across some people who think that you want to hear about every crazy detail of their lives, well this one is to them.

Them0235: OMG, I'm so fucking drunk tonight.

Me: OMG I'm so fucking sober tonight.

Them0235: Fuck you! LOL

Me: Like I give a shit... LOL

Them09832: So I had an interesting drunken tonight.

-----4 Minutes later------

Them09832: Are you still there?

Me: Yeah I'm here

Them09832: You didn't say anything.

Me: Yeah, I noticed that

Them09832: What's your deal tonight? Got some kind of 'tude?

Me: No, I just don't care to hear the details of your drunker nights.

Them#1crzybtch: Did I ever tell you about the time I had a 4-way

Me: I never asked

Them#1crzybtch: Do you want to know?

Me: I'd rather not.

Mr Burns AKA Mr V

I was in class a few years ago and my instructor at the time said that he went to the same middle school as I did, and spoke of a teacher there and his name gave me the shivers. He told me this man was his health teacher and one day he was teaching everyone the importance of deep breathing, but my mind locked onto one class day where he completely freaked me out and so what I remember of this man was a bit more eerie than just some fucking breathing.

Before I go on, I want you to think about your past teachers and if any of them freaked you out or just left you with an odd feeling. Well this teacher did just that for me. I've had a few others, like this one named Mr M. (for now) that couldn't let go that Elvis was dead, you could tell by his quaffed head. Always wore the tan slacks that were tight in the front with that ugly ass, cracked leather jacket, and would fucking switch down the halls when he walked and wore these black shades indoors. The funny this is that when the other teachers saw him he would wink at them and they would shake their heads with this mocking smile that was so obvious to everyone else but him. One of the main things that he was known for throughout the school was that during movies he would pick his nose and put the winners in his beard.

Anyway I am getting off subject and thats a whole other story, but this teacher one took 1st place in nastiness. Now this wasn't some private school it was just regular ass public school, and I know that plenty schools had more pressing matters, like teachers that were having sex with their students, but this is my story.

This dude, and I'll just call him Mr. V. was tall as I remembered him maybe it was because I hadn't finished growing, but he was tall, gangly and odd looking. He was balding, and his shoulders hunched (funny that little kids used that terms for sex still kills me, *hunching*) and he almost never smiled. He had this odd cadence to his voice to, almost like he was sick of it too. Almost sounded like it was an out of tune horn, envision Mr. Burns from The Simpson's cartoon and you'll have a pretty good picture of him.

This was 8th grade and around this time where I was still struggling with the idea that Boy George was a man (Yes I know that was a very, very slow observation) as my mother so lovingly tried to get me to see without laughing her ass off at me. Well Mr. V. forbade us to bring our own dry towels, now at this time I didn't understand the logic behind this, but this was still with how things go when you're young if someone of authority tells you to do something you just do it, so everyday when class was over and we all took a shower, he had all of us stand in a crowd and wait to be handed a towel.

This one day, after we finished showering and he takes his sweet time to the supply closet to pass out the towels, he makes his way through all of naked, wet boys and opens the door and passes out towels. I can remember going to my locker and drying off and there was some joke going on and we all laughed and I had an urge to use the bathroom and on my way back to my locker, I have to pass by Mr. V's office and he wasn't in there, and I kid you not, there were a pair of draws lying on the floor. We knew he had a bathroom in his office, but I thought why the hell are there some tighty-whities on the floor and he is no where to be seen?

Well I brought this to the attention of the everyone else in my circle and they all started giggling and when I finally caught on, I wasn't laughing. What if this man is in there envisioning having me in some sickening compromising position? All I thought was hells naw. We didn't put too much stock in it though, we all made some comment and went on with our day.

Line one Calling Mr Syn

Some of you know, but then a lot of you don't that I am a state licensed medical massage therapist. I don't speak much about it because I lost my drive for that as my life's job. That and some other issues about hospitals not taking massage seriously, and thats where I am trained to work, and I don't want to have to learn to be a physical therapist just to utilize my massage talents.

I can remember talking to my cousin that lives in Detroit (yes Michigan is bigger than just Detroit) and he asked me what I had been up to, and I said that I was in school for medical massage therapy and his immediate response,Oh so you gonna get all the ho's. I said man please if you'd see most of these people, you'd know that ain't no sex going on at all!

There was this one woman, very odd looking I mean just by the lips, who needed a shoulder massage. She wasn't shy about anything, see one of the procedures was to get the patient on the table and then do everything under a sheet since there were other people in the room unless they had a private room in the back that way we could just come back after they were situated. No, not this woman, right out in front of every one boobs out and swinging, and I thought whoa, had to turn my head because I wasn't ready for it (hell they even looked odd for that quick half a second of torture that I endured).

So she finally lays down and I look at how her body lays just doing an overall scan of what needs to be worked on, and then I see it. This light green-ish mole on her back. LIGHT GREEN!?!? Like one of her grand kids had taken a marker and colored it in for her because that dookie brown wasn't looking too hot. I start giving this woman a massage and she starts moaning, and so I freeze I start thinking ok this has got to be some kind of game show or something, and I look at the instructor and she has this smirk on her face and fucking leaves the room. WTF!?!?

This other woman, I was giving her a neck massage, she was lying on her back, and how I had arms draped over it relaxed her muscles in her neck so I got deep and she's letting out these sighs (I can handle sighs better than moans that sounds like she is getting the good-good). What freaked me out with this woman is, when I was done, I tell her that I will be in the other room to settle the bill (it was only 10 bucks) when I get to the door she asks in the most pathetic tone. Aren't you going to say goodbye? If you have ever met me, you'll understand the facial expression I gave her, with one eyebrow up and the other down as I respond with Uh, bye.

Then this one woman who didn't even bother trying to wear a bra, I honestly don't think they make them that large. I felt for her though because they were so large that she couldn't properly lay down on the table. She wanted to hold a conversation and would slip out little compliments during the massage. Things like, its a good day today, oh my goodness that feels so fucking good, and my lips would just go straight and my face tensed like I am not trying to turn this woman on. I mean my job is to make people feel better but hell, and this other woman would just let them rip when I massaged, and yes women do brew them stinkier.

Excuses We've all Used Them

    So what was the best excuse that got you off from work? I'm not  talking about a truthful one at that. I'm talking about getting away with some crap.  See I was working this gig that I would have had to worked to fired from, seriously. So I knew I was set but anyway there were plenty of days that I didn't goto work and a lot of them I didn't.  Sometimes even at work I used excuses to go home as everyone did, well let me break down the situation for you and get ready to get your giggle on. This Shit was priceless.

    I was working third shift and I learned a condition at work by this point that if you worked over 4 hours in one night they have to pay you for the rest of that shift even if you leave. I thought perfect cause I don't feel like being here anyway. So I walk downstairs to my boss's (man that word looks odd)office and he has his desk set up so he has his back to the door. He knows my voice, so when I speak he doesn't even turn around when I enter. I tell him my stomach is fucking with me man I need to go home, (now understand the whole point of this job is to push these last bit of parts out so we can close so why would we be in a rush and I mean we being the union workers) but anyway, he asks whats wrong I tell him again that my stomach is fucking with me (ain't a damn thang wrong either) then thats when I dropped the bomb..."Look man I shit on myself" and I had to say it just as serious and embarrasses as possible or it wouldn't have worked and once I said it I saw this cat's back bounce hes laughing, and so to fight my laughter I bolt out "Man its not funny!" he just waves and tells me to go home, so I waddle back to tell the good news to my cats on the line with a wink and I'm out The thing is, I have used this excuse twice once on first and then this time on third shift.

    I know people used to, have to come up with some sort of excuse just for taking items back to stores. I figure it doesn't mean that I am sure but I figure that women can use the "time of the month" one too to get off work but how many of you have been creative enough to say that you shit your pants with a straight face? I think I deserve an award, seriously.

So Unattractive

    I can remember in my younger years when one of my best friends brought me over to his woman’s house in a flimsy attempt to hook her “girl” up with a younger cat. Wow. Check the scene, I was nineteen, slim like a action figure and had a simple yet, pornographic idea of the type of woman I wanted to get close to, well shit get into. Not even then did I ever think I was all of that or even some of it but I knew what it was that I didn’t want. Since I wasn’t “getting any” at that time lotion with my lucky towel was and still is my best way of relaxation.

    My dude comes through and scoops me and we roll to his woman’s house mind you, both of these women are years, older than us. I think the term is “Puma”, you know under forty isn't a “Cougar” yet. The thought of that was hard for me to even think about taking that serious. Now the thought of an older woman is intoxicating, but then aw hell naw. 

    I come into the spot and the first thing I see is this chick sitting on the couch with her hand in her cotton jogging pants like Al Bundy. At that day and age, in my mind, she didn’t meet my standards. I thought, “Couldn’t she have found something that she looked like she could breath in? “ I mean seriously, she looked like she had her little sister’s clothes on! I tried to just walk past and go into the kitchen and give my dude's girl a huge piece of my mind but while trying to just walk past she reached out to try and stop me.

    Her hands were strong and rough kind of like the thought of when Jamie Foxx played Wanda with them big ass muscles in a dress. It felt like the roles had changed like I was the woman and she was the woman trying to “holla”. Can we say “UGH!?” Besides I can’t let the roles switch I'm the one with the damn dick it wasn’t going down like that, not to mention it happening like this made me think that she had been in jail before.

    So after my somewhat altercation with the female version of Boo-Boo-Kitty, I made my way into the kitchen to let this woman have it and she beats my conversation with a smile, an older sister kind of smile. She even says just be cool I know what your about to say, just do this for me. I can’t even speak; I just look at her with this “AREYOUFUGGINKIDDINME” look. I thought, was she asking me to just screw her for her? Hells naw. Hell fucking NAW!

    So it’s a little later in the night and we start to play some spades and usually I am into the game but this time “she” is sitting to the left of me licking her lips and all and I find none of this shit is even remotely sexy. So one time I wasn’t paying attention to the game and she reaches over and lays her manly-ass hand on my thigh and says “It’s your turn daddy” and giggles I swear (this was before Friday came out but you know how Smokey shook when ‘Janet Jackson’ reached out to grab his booty after telling her to never, eva-eva-eva-eva to come around). All I could think was “Daddy!” This grown-ass woman just called me daddy.

    I looked over at my dude and he had his head on the table because he couldn’t look me in the eye. His body was doing those dry heave type of deal but I couldn’t even force a smile to come to my face, this crap wasn’t humorous to me not even slightly and I am the person who used to get into trouble for just giggling. I looked over at his woman who was sitting right across from me and all she could do was look away with this goofy ass grin I wasn’t getting any kind of back up.

    Next thing I remember is being in my dudes two door cutlass. Two door mind you and of course I am in the backseat with this woman. She’s trying to snuggle up next to me which is physically pushing me in the opposite direction, I don’t even have a window or my own door. I must have looked like a Christmas ornament by how I was all up in that little ass side window. She was dam near sprawled out in the back seat and I wasn’t having any of it. Yea just some painful, painful memories of years ago…

The Dentures

A friend told me about this story of humorous night clubbing of mid-thirties women night out at the club. I giggled my ass off when I heard the whole ordeal. 

    We all were going out one night and had a new member with us, we knew she was a little older but didn’t know exactly how much older and it really didn’t matter but when one of her girls yelled wait my mom is still in the house that gave them the info we needed.

    We get to the club, dance, and have a really good time with some fellas, finally when the end of clubbing draws near we go get some hotel rooms. Some suits with a few beds in each room (you know anything goes in ATL baby!) Soon after the lights go out there are some serious slurping sounds and the woman from the other couple start giggling and saying “dang girl you don’t waste time do you?”

    It’s not like she could answer, so to be “the woman who was not hard at work” gets up and turns the lights on. Shortly after the lights were on there was a long “UGH” sound that circled the room, this startled the both of them but when his sight cleared he freaked!

    So he finally saw what everyone else found so shocking. Now to some nasty cats this wouldn’t even bother them and being that this was down in the ATL I’m shocked it bugged him but when he looked to his immediate left on the little drawer he saw a cup with a set of dentures. He looks at her, she smiles this toothless grin, he jumps up and grabs his clothes and streaks out of the hotel butt booty ass naked.

    My friend continues to tell me she went walking downtown a few short weeks afterwards, she saw them in a restaurant sitting right next to each other and he was sitting to the left of her, and she notices that her right arm is dam near vibrating and the dude can’t even look up, she immediately turns around and leaves. She’s down the street when she hears him scream, “AHHHHH!”

The infamous Cum Rag

As told by a friend of mine, a few years back, I couldn't stop laughing. Enjoy!

    This happened a few years ago when my sister and brother-in-law were living with us while their house was being built. Now my sister and I know when our parents are ‘knockin-boots’ because they close the door to their bedroom and bathroom and the fan goes on. Now hearing the fan on in the middle of the day would make me want to go play outside in the middle of a hailstorm.

    Anyways, my parents did the deed one day while my brother-in-law was home. After they had-um-finished, lol, my mom had gotten a washcloth out and cleaned herself up and happened to leave it on the bathroom counter!  Now I know not to go near that bathroom for a few hours, maybe even the rest of the day. Let alone use anything lying around in there. But with my brother-in-law not knowing what closed doors and fans on in the middle of the afternoon meant, he went in the bathroom and started getting ready for work.

    I guess there’s no easy way to say this so he washed his face with “the cum rag.” My mom came in the bathroom and says, “Oh sweetie I just used that to wipe myself!” as my dad peaks his head around the corner. With the look on her face and the look on my dads face I think he realized what she meant by ‘wipe herself’ because he dropped the rag and hurled it in the sink and went to cussing like a sailor.


~Moral of the story don’t use anything that you have no clue of where it’s been especially washcloths~