Potpourri Du Poo
Since I don’t have anything particularly interesting to say today, I thought I’d post a couple of things I received via email today.
THE THREE STAGES OF A MAN'S LIFE
WHOA...THIS IS JUST PLAIN WRONG:
THE THREE STAGES OF A MAN'S LIFE
WHOA...THIS IS JUST PLAIN WRONG:
Click to enlarge if you dare
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THUMBS UP!
Two Girls and a Guy
They hold the world record for referrals to my humble blog.
People have found their way here 552 times by way of their site. Thanks bitches! :-)
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Memory Du Jour:
New Year’s Eve, 1983, Key West, Florida
My friend Travis and I had a big night planned. First we were going swing by and pick up his ultra hot British girlfriend. She was married to a gay guy – A marriage of convenience. He needed the hetero cover from his parents, and she needed the marriage to a US citizen to stay in the country.
Anyway…We hopped a cab and went to her place where we had enough cold ones to prime us for the New Year’s party we were fixin’ to attend. When the time was right, the three of us dialed up a cab and we were on our way.
The party was at a big, old Victorian style house. The party, if you want to call it that, was a snobby kind of affair, full of uptight, snooty, affluent folk. Travis, who was a boisterous guy from the Texas Panhandle who fit all the Tall Texan stereotypes, was the life of the party. When midnight rolled around, the snobs all raised their fancy pants champagne glasses, clinked them together daintily and proclaimed “happy new year” in reserved, neverhadfuninmylife fashion.
Travis snatched two bottles of champagne from the house bitch who was strolling around filling glasses and handed me one. We held the bottles up, said something really meaningful (right), clinked them together, and chugged until the champagne was foaming out of our mouths (and maybe noses too). Travis wiped his mouth and chin and looked around in mock astonishment at the lame-ass revelers. “Happy New Year y’all,” was the toast repeated incessantly, and much to the ire of the snobs, for the next five minutes; another form of Texas Toast I think :-)
Travis ran out of champagne mercifully. We spent the remainder of the evening hanging out in the kitchen with hotbritishgirlfriend and the other three or four people besides us who were actually having fun. We drank whisky and beer. After a while, a flaming (and I mean flaming) gay guy pranced into the kitchen with a cake held above his head and announced that everyone should try it because it was positively delicious.
Being drunk and really hungry by this time, Travis and I ripped into the cake. We had eaten two pieces each (or so) before someone wondered aloud what all the green shit was in the frosting. We gave the cake a closer inspection. Voila! It was spiked with some top-grade weed, inside-out. We had a piece or two more and were officially blind fucking shitfaced. Next thing I remembered, I was waking up sometime around 2:00pm on HotBritishGirlfriend’s living room floor. Travis and HBGF were sprawled out on her bed, fully clothed (shoes and all). They looked like shit. I can’t imagine how I looked. I know I felt like shit! My two remaining brain cells despise me for that night.
Quote of the Day:
"I've reminded the prime minister—the American people, Mr. Prime Minister, over the past months that it was not always a given that the United States and America would have a close relationship."—Washington, D.C., June 29, 2006
My friend Travis and I had a big night planned. First we were going swing by and pick up his ultra hot British girlfriend. She was married to a gay guy – A marriage of convenience. He needed the hetero cover from his parents, and she needed the marriage to a US citizen to stay in the country.
Anyway…We hopped a cab and went to her place where we had enough cold ones to prime us for the New Year’s party we were fixin’ to attend. When the time was right, the three of us dialed up a cab and we were on our way.
The party was at a big, old Victorian style house. The party, if you want to call it that, was a snobby kind of affair, full of uptight, snooty, affluent folk. Travis, who was a boisterous guy from the Texas Panhandle who fit all the Tall Texan stereotypes, was the life of the party. When midnight rolled around, the snobs all raised their fancy pants champagne glasses, clinked them together daintily and proclaimed “happy new year” in reserved, neverhadfuninmylife fashion.
Travis snatched two bottles of champagne from the house bitch who was strolling around filling glasses and handed me one. We held the bottles up, said something really meaningful (right), clinked them together, and chugged until the champagne was foaming out of our mouths (and maybe noses too). Travis wiped his mouth and chin and looked around in mock astonishment at the lame-ass revelers. “Happy New Year y’all,” was the toast repeated incessantly, and much to the ire of the snobs, for the next five minutes; another form of Texas Toast I think :-)
Travis ran out of champagne mercifully. We spent the remainder of the evening hanging out in the kitchen with hotbritishgirlfriend and the other three or four people besides us who were actually having fun. We drank whisky and beer. After a while, a flaming (and I mean flaming) gay guy pranced into the kitchen with a cake held above his head and announced that everyone should try it because it was positively delicious.
Being drunk and really hungry by this time, Travis and I ripped into the cake. We had eaten two pieces each (or so) before someone wondered aloud what all the green shit was in the frosting. We gave the cake a closer inspection. Voila! It was spiked with some top-grade weed, inside-out. We had a piece or two more and were officially blind fucking shitfaced. Next thing I remembered, I was waking up sometime around 2:00pm on HotBritishGirlfriend’s living room floor. Travis and HBGF were sprawled out on her bed, fully clothed (shoes and all). They looked like shit. I can’t imagine how I looked. I know I felt like shit! My two remaining brain cells despise me for that night.
Quote of the Day:
"I've reminded the prime minister—the American people, Mr. Prime Minister, over the past months that it was not always a given that the United States and America would have a close relationship."—Washington, D.C., June 29, 2006
Graphic Du Jour:
7 comments:
Love the IKEA billboard.
lmao! flaming gay guys who make ganjacake are tops in my book! that sounds FABULOUS!
that guy's obnoxious boner is well....obnoxious...lol eww!
Let me first say I'd much rather see guys wearing these pants. The ones they wear now with the crotch hanging down to the knees and their ass cracks showing in the back really don't do much for me. Any of ya'll recall Robert Plants jeans in the movie Stairway to heaven? Now that was a nice fit!
I recall many of the types of parties you described and I recall having a blast! It seemed the more snooty the party, the more fun we had. Early & I usually just find somewhere semi obvious to have sex and that seems to perk the snobs up a bit, at least they have something to talk about then.
Well, I guess we know about which direction that gent "dresses" his wanker.
"gangakake?"
PS:
Why am I still not on your list?
:-(
:-(
Uh gross to the guy with a camel toe......can a guy have a camel toe??? Obviously they can!
You can always count on the person from the panhandle to be the loudest most obnoxious person there.......you should come to a party where all the people are from the panhandle!!!
We bitches are happy to help with the referrals...........asshole....lol
Jules: I thought you would!
WebMiz: He was pretty funny. I'm just glad I didn't get so fucked up that I got fucked up....well, you know. lol
Y: I know what you mean about the stupid fucking baggy pants. I hate those damned things. I haven't been to a snooty party for a long time. Actually, I can't think of one fucking snooty party I've been to since the one with the gayganjaguy! I guess I don't get around much any more. :-)
Sudie: Yes we do, but oddly I don't feel more complete as a person knowing it. :-) Ganja =
marijuana. You're on my list now. Sorry!
RLB: I agree. Gross! It might not be so terribly disturbing if the guy wasn't so creepy looking. My friend from the panhandle was really nuts. Funny as hell. He was from Burkburnett.
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