Last night's events [slash] How fat was the girl that molested you?

 
  • quote from "dumb and dumber"

    that was my quote of the week sometime back in 1996.


    mir, you are correct, i was intending to say "discretion." however, the story is seeming less and less funny.

    here is the highlight of it. my sister in law got really really wasted on margueritas, corona, and tequila. i met up with her and my brother at midnight. my bro appeared to be coherent, my s-i-l (sister in law) greeted me with a hug and a boisterious "you are obviously looking for the most fabulous person here - me!" the hug quickly transitioned into her clutching to my herculean shoulders for balance, and so i adjusted my positioning, so that she clung about my neck as a man-purse, and i took her to my brother.

    so, she orders up two shots of patron tequila, and two coronas. i thought she was going to drink one and i would get one. they were both for me. i chug them, give my brother one of the beers. s-i-l says that i did it with such ease that she thinks i should do another one. she orders a shot for all of us. and a beer for each.

    the beverages get consumed, we go out on the patio of this drinking establishment. my brother are nerds with our mobile funs. s-i-l is getting more and more quiet. until the point she is lying her head down. the 30 year old lady knows her limits so she breaks her silence by saying "we have to go home NOW!"

    my brother and i are in the middle of sending some stuff to and from our phones with infrared, which means we can't even really move the phones if we want to finish the transfer. it is so close to finished, we just act like we don't hear her. she yells again. this time standing up and walking towards the parking lot.

    she was definitely on a mission. my bro and i go back into the bar to kill the tab and find the wife/s-i-l. she is no where to be found. she outside, by the car, sitting on the ground. she ain't looking too swell.

    my brother is charged with the task of driving home, which isn't too far luckily. and i'm driving behind. seems like the night is over and rather uneventful. but before we can finish the night by reaching the safety of the homestead, my s-i-l's door opens (as we're going down a busy road in columbus, oh - high street). and i see a steady torrent of italian food, beer, a piece of gum, and other juices. and i'm trying to drive such that it's not splashing on my car. my brother is swerving. with the occasional hand popping out to close the door as to avoid it hitting parked cars, pedestrians, and road signs.

    that's about it, really. the story has no anectdotes or quote-worthy remarks. the night ended for me when my brother calls from his car and says (actual quote from the voicemail that was left), "yeah, i think we're just going to call it a night. (wife's name) was letting loose pretty good back there. i think she's just going to hug the toilet for the night and i'm going to watch some sportscenter"

    ...and I alone stand a chance, but not a second chance
  • It was a good night for SportsCenter on Friday and Saturday. Did he happen to catch the Mets' highlights :P ?

    Tonight, was a school night, and for some God forsaken reason me and my "home-plate" buddy thought it would be funny to play Bullshit with a bottle of vodka and 2 litters of OJ (I prefer my vodka straight if I'm going to party, but it is a school night). He is still barfing atm. I'll have to clean up so no one is suspicious in the morning :/ . I'm either really good at cards or he really sucks.

    We're also supposed to run the the mile tommorow in gym. I wonder what that'll be like for him lol...

    To be continued...

  • 16 and drinking on a school night? I don't even drink on school nights in my 3rd year of college (well maybe like twice). Either that is highly respectable or highly stupid. Most likely the latter of the two.

    Hey, Todd Palin, I just finished coloring your wife's book.
    • mir83nj said...
    • User
    • 9 May 2006, 05:13

    Re:

    Quoth JimmyJimJim89:
    It was a good night for SportsCenter on Friday and Saturday. Did he happen to catch the Mets' highlights :P ?


    My co-worker was at the game Friday. He took his dad for his birthday, and was rewarded by getting blindsided by a drunk driver. Car totaled, dad in hospital, and the douchebag had the nerve to threatened to kick his ass if he called the police...some people are just wastes of life

    Quoth JimmyJimJim89:
    He is still barfing atm.


    barfing ass-to-mouth sounds really gross

    not bad though...keep in mind that unlike college, grades actually matter in HS...but once you're in college, the mid-week drinking isn't a problem (just be smart and dont schedule any morning or friday classes)

    "I've always considered writing the most hateful kind of work. I suspect it's a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don't do much giggling." -HST
  • Re: Re:

    Quoth mir83nj:
    Quoth JimmyJimJim89:
    He is still barfing atm.


    barfing ass-to-mouth sounds really gross


    lol

    When you're not on a porn site, "ATM" either means one of those primitive cash machines or 'At The Moment". Not 'Ass To Mouth' (kinkeh...).

    Edit: Sucks for your friend btw. I'll be seeing them play the Phillies tonight. Martinez is pitching. If Pedro is kicking ass my dad might just be in a joyful enough mood to buy me a drink. It shall be good ;).

  • the ass-to-mouth is so great. you truly know that the girl isn't marriage material then.

    i suggest to everyone that you keep an extra toothbrush at your house, tho.

    ...and I alone stand a chance, but not a second chance
  • Re:

    Quoth degraff19er:
    i suggest to everyone that you keep an extra toothbrush at your house, tho.


    Its the little details like those that I forget.

    • mir83nj said...
    • User
    • 9 May 2006, 23:52

    Re:

    Quoth degraff19er:
    the ass-to-mouth is so great. you truly know that the girl isn't marriage material then.


    see, i think the exact opposite.

    "I've always considered writing the most hateful kind of work. I suspect it's a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don't do much giggling." -HST
  • you would marry an ass mouth?

    not me, no how, no way. i want a wife that isn't afraid to "experiment" and likes "unclogging the hose" orally, but not in that order.

    but i am sure that many respectable women are down with the ass-to-mouth. it's just a mental image thing with me. like jerry seinfeld when he couldn't kiss the girl after he dropped her toothbrush in the toilet and she used it.

    ...and I alone stand a chance, but not a second chance
    • mir83nj said...
    • User
    • 10 May 2006, 00:31
    lol...i really have no idea...

    i'll cross that bridge when I come to it...

    being down with rim jobs is a definite plus though

    "I've always considered writing the most hateful kind of work. I suspect it's a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don't do much giggling." -HST
  • Crazy-talk.

    Que Suerte!

  • As long as its her first time giving rim jobs...first time with you.

    Hey, Todd Palin, I just finished coloring your wife's book.
    • mir83nj said...
    • User
    • 10 May 2006, 04:20
    I love how in my reccomendations box, it says this:

    Forum Post: you would marry an ass mouth?...
    More reading...

    :)

    "I've always considered writing the most hateful kind of work. I suspect it's a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don't do much giggling." -HST
  • ewww omfg i dont even know whats going on.

    • mir83nj said...
    • User
    • 10 May 2006, 04:48

    Re:

    Quoth mvbeachgal:
    ewww omfg i dont even know whats going on.


    ATM in porn isn't even really that bad, since most of those girls have full Brazilians and use enemas before shoots anyways. Otherwise it would be pretty gross.

    "I've always considered writing the most hateful kind of work. I suspect it's a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don't do much giggling." -HST
  • Re:

    Quoth OtherBen:
    Crazy-talk.


    What else would be in here?

    So the game was pretty good. 5-4 Phillies. Mets rallied in the eighth. My dad was visiting the porcelain throne at the time that Delgado homered. We had left our seats and gone to the outfield in anticipation for the loss at the top of the ninth... so anyway we were standing there until he went to the restrooms, then I was by myself with a bunch of other disappointed Met fans surrounded by drunk Philadelphians... bad shit... anyways, there was a group of kids up there, about my age, from the 'burbs. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed one of them inching up next to me. She had a Mets jersey on. Her friends notice too. They giggle and roll their eyes. I begin to think that the night wasn't a complete loss. I made a comment to her about a roudy drunk Phillie fan, she laughs, I continue joking after introducing myself and getting her name. We talk for a few minutes and share our pain as it begins to look like the inning is going to be a short one... then Delgado homers. The Phillie fans are stunned and the Mets fans (about the 30% of the park was pro-Mets... a good showing for a visiting team) begin a really loud chant, belittling Tom "Flash" Gordon (supposedly he's supposed to be good, but I know that the Phillies are just trying to fill the void taht Billy W. left when he joined the Mets). I turn to her anticipating a high five or a hug. Instead she frenches me. Its a long one considering the circumstance. A few nearby Phillie fans try to detract from the glorious homer by saying things like, "oh, isn't that cute. Loser Mets fans getting ready to make loser Mets fan babies." After 6 minutes, I pry her away from my face. She's blushing and her friends are rolling their eyes (one did one of those sarcastic cough things like, "*cough*slut*cough*"). Her friends decide to head back to their seats since the game clearly was no longer over. They're her ride and I don't live anywhere near her (she asked if I could take her home), so she had to go too. My dad gets back and is completely confused. He asks why I'm pissed when the Mets had tied it and what the hell did he miss. And then the Mets lost.

    And I didn't get that beer. The night was an utter failure.

    Edited by JimmyJimJim89 on 10 May 2006, 04:54
    • mir83nj said...
    • User
    • 10 May 2006, 04:51

    Re: Re:

    Quoth JimmyJimJim89:
    Quoth OtherBen:
    Crazy-talk.


    What else would be in here?

    So the game was pretty good. 5-4 Phillies. Mets rallied in the eighth. My dad was visiting the porcelain throne at the time that Delgado homered. We had left our seats and gone to the outfield in anticipation for the loss at the top of the ninth... so anyway we were standing there until he went to the restrooms, then I was by myself with a bunch of other disappointed Met fans surrounded by drunk Philadelphians... bad shit... anyways, there was a group of kids up there, about my age, from the 'burbs. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed one of them inching up next to me. She had a Mets jersey on. Her friends notice too. They giggle and roll their eyes. I begin to think that the night wasn't a complete loss. I made a comment to her about a roudy drunk Phillie fan, she laughs, I continue joking after introducing myself and getting her name. We talk for a few minutes and share our pain as it begins to look like the inning is going to be a short one... then Delgado homers. The Phillie fans are stunned and the Mets fan (about the 30% of the park was pro-Mets... a good showing for a visiting team). I turn to her anticipating a high five or a hug. Instead she frenches me. Its a long one considering the circumstance. A few nearby Phillie fans try to detract from the glorious homer by saying things like, "oh, isn't that cute. Loser Mets fans getting ready to make loser Mets fan babies." After 6 minutes, I pry her away from my face. She's blushing and her friends are rolling their eyes (one did one of those sarcastic cough things like, "*cough*slut*cough*". Her friends decide to head back to their seats. They're her ride and I don't live anywhere near here, so she had to go to. My dad gets back and is completely confused. He asks why I'm pissed when the Mets had tied it and what the hell did he miss. And then the Mets lost.

    And I didn't get that beer. The night was an utter failure.


    Not even a phone number? Come on dude...weak

    At least she didn't do it in front of your dad, though.

    PS: she probably thought you were Conor.

    "I've always considered writing the most hateful kind of work. I suspect it's a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don't do much giggling." -HST
  • You missed the edit. She gave me the number, but its pointless. She lives an hour and a half away from me.

    Oh, and her friend had an Arcade Fire shirt, so the Oberst factor might have been playing in my favor (they seemed to be "scenesters"). That hadn't crossed my mind at the time either.

    • mir83nj said...
    • User
    • 10 May 2006, 05:30

    Re:

    Quoth JimmyJimJim89:
    You missed the edit. She gave me the number, but its pointless. She lives an hour and a half away from me.

    Oh, and her friend had an Arcade Fire shirt, so the Oberst factor might have been playing in my favor (they seemed to be "scenesters"). That hadn't crossed my mind at the time either.


    Rough.

    Well, to brighten up your day, I'll tell an oldie but goodie.

    My cousin Mike and I used to have a tradition of getting hammered the night before new years every year. One year we decided to do irish car bombs (yay!). Well the one obstacle was that we were both underage, and while scoring booze wasn't impossible, it was difficult to obtain the exact ingredients we desired. I left it to Mike to get the whiskey and the Guinness, and I was to obtain the Bailey's.

    My job was pretty easy, since I only had to go to my parents' "medicine" cabinet. Mike, however had to go to the liqour store.

    Mike's "favorite" liqour store (aka the one that gave him the least problems about being 20) was a shit shack in Newark whose "specialty is 40s" (Mike's words). Now to give you an idea of the pricing at this place, a 750mL bottle of Jim Beam (name brand but still gross bourbon) cost about $25. Mike decided to go with the never-fucking-heard-of-it before stellar brand of Jim Barr whiskey. 750mL bottle: $10. Yummm...I can already taste the hangover.

    Now for the Guinness...Mike scores 3 22oz bottles of Guinness...EXTRA stout. Now for those that know nothing of Guinness, the regular draught stout isn't carbonated, but instead has NO2. Very smooth, very delicious. Now Guinness extra stout, this is what Satan's diarrhea must taste like. Thick, black and heavily carbonated. I can't wait.

    So he gets to my house and we get to work. We prepare the first car bomb, drop the Baileys in start chugging. Within 0.86 seconds I realize this is going to suck, and bad. I manage to get it all down, albeit a lot slower than the normal 4-5 seconds a regular car bomb takes to put down. Mike, on the other hand, is drinking it like he's sipping a coca-cola...it takes him a bout 30 seconds to get it all down. I can't blame him...the whiskey tastes like demon piss and the beer isn't helping. We do two more and start to collect receptacles for when the inevitable puking takes place. We slow down, and wait about 15-20 minutes before the fourth, and somehow I managed to convice him to do a 5th about 20 minutes after that. We would have been proud of ourselves, but we were too busy trying not to puke. We succeeded.

    Mind you, it's about 8:45 P.M. We can barely see straight, but we start getting a severe nicotine fix, and decide we need to get cigarettes. Driving is out of the question, so Mike asks me how far it is to the nearest drug store/7-11 etc. In my infinite genius, I tell him "it's only two blocks from here."

    Mind you, Mike lived in North Jersey, where, much like nyc, one block = 1/20 of a mile. Well, in Cowtown, aka Plainsboro, NJ, one block = one mile. Awesome idea.

    We head out. We start walking down the first "block," and when we get to the end, Mike says, I gotta go to the bathroom. Ok, easy enough, there's lots of pine trees along this road, and they go pretty deep into the townhouse development. We set up shop outside someone's backyard, before I realize that while I only had to pee, Mike was pulling down his pants and popping a squat.

    As he's shitting, I notice that the family next door doesn't have a fence like the one we're outside of, and I can see them eating dinner through the glass doors. What a wonderful view they must have had.

    So Mike finishes pooping, and says, "hey, I need some leaves." I'm laughing hysterically...the only trees anywhere near us are pine trees. I tell him this, but he still insists I give him some, so I grab two handfuls off of the branches (horrible idea, since i'm allergic to evergreens) and I pour the needles into his hands. I turn away, not wanting to know how the cleanup went, still laughing hysterically.

    We continue walking down the second "block," this one through the neighborhood we just deposited our excrement in, talking shit to each other, etc. I push him, and since he's so sober, he falls down in the grass off of the sidewalk. I keep walking, and he decides that he must seek his revenge, so he starts charging at me. Before I have any time to react, BAM! he runs smack into a tree.

    Seriously, it was like the cartoons. His left arm and foot kept moving, and went straight into the air, but his face and torso were instantly stopped by the tree. I ran over to help him, almost dying from laughter the entire time. We soon forget why we were fighting, and continue to walk.

    Halfway through the second "block," I realize it was more like 3 "blocks" away. Even worse, since we were in cowtown, everything, including the eckerd, closed at 9:30. After our bathroom break and episode with the tree, it was 9:15. We decided (because we are drunken athletes as well as geniuses) that we need to run. We take off running, but since I was/am horribly out of shape, I start to fall off after about a quarter mile. Mike keeps running, but eventually stops and lets me catch up. I think, whew, ok, at least he's tired too. But the only reason he stopped was because he had no idea where he was going. I passed the $20 off like a baton, and he takes off for the drug store.

    About 12 minutes later, I finally make it to the mini-mall where the eckerd is located. I round the corner and pass the video store, the only other thing open at the time. I see Mike standing in line.

    "Hey Mike, what the fuck are you doing? Renting 'Showgirls?'"

    He looks around, for the first time realizing he is in the video store. We collect our thoughts and remaining shreds of our dignity (which we will soon lose) and make it to the Eckerd.

    SUCCESS!!! AT LAST!!!

    The store is open. We buy cigarettes. We sit down on the bench outside the video store and enjoy a hard-earned smoke.

    And of course, because God hates a drunk, it starts pouring rain. I'm talking small animal-sized drops here, people. It was rough. It was practically immediately after we finished our cigarettes.

    There was no way we were going to walk back in that. And there was no way I was calling my dad to pick me up. So we did the most logical thing...we hitched a ride.

    Some guy in a Geo Metro rolls up to the video store (presumably to drop off his rented copy of "Stepmom") and as he heads out, I ask him for a ride. Puzzled, he agrees. We pile in the Metro, thankful that we have something to break the awkward silence, because the Knicks game is on. We shoot the shit for a few minutes, he drops us off on the corner, and we make it home. Home sweet home.

    The next day, when Mike's parents come over for New Year's, they see how the entire right side of his face is swollen and cut up.

    Mike's Parents: "Were you fighting last night?"

    Mike: "No, I ran into a tree."

    Parents: "Riight...whatever"

    Mike: "I wish I was making this up..."

    True story.

    "I've always considered writing the most hateful kind of work. I suspect it's a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don't do much giggling." -HST
    Edited by mir83nj on 10 May 2006, 06:06
  • Man, weekdays are boring. The most notable thing that has happened was that most of the girls in my journalism class today were talking openly about having a passion party this weekend. Don't know what that is? I'll give you a hint: it involves a rubber, vibrating dolphin and a dubious lotion called "nipple nibbler".

    England is far too silly a place to be real.
    • mir83nj said...
    • User
    • 10 May 2006, 05:47

    Re:

    Quoth debaser247:
    Man, weekdays are boring. The most notable thing that has happened was that most of the girls in my journalism class today were talking openly about having a passion party this weekend. Don't know what that is? I'll give you a hint: it involves a rubber, vibrating dolphin and a dubious lotion called "nipple nibbler".


    When I get a dolphin, it doesn't really vibrate...

    PS: what school do you go to

    "I've always considered writing the most hateful kind of work. I suspect it's a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don't do much giggling." -HST
  • That's probably one of the funniest stories I've heard in a while. Half of being drunk is going to the bathroom in bizzare places. The Korean War Memorial we have in my town must have gallons of our piss on it.

    England is far too silly a place to be real.
  • Re: Re:

    Quoth mir83nj:
    Quoth debaser247:
    Man, weekdays are boring. The most notable thing that has happened was that most of the girls in my journalism class today were talking openly about having a passion party this weekend. Don't know what that is? I'll give you a hint: it involves a rubber, vibrating dolphin and a dubious lotion called "nipple nibbler".


    When I get a dolphin, it doesn't really vibrate...

    PS: what school do you go to

    It's not just any dolphin, it's "the friendly dolphin".

    PS: I go to a high school outside of Portland OR.

    England is far too silly a place to be real.
    • mir83nj said...
    • User
    • 10 May 2006, 06:09
    Yeah, I figured you were talking about a vibrator of some sort.

    I was actually talking about a semi...a floppy...aka a half-erection. I call it a dolphin.

    and journalism class in high school...pretty interesting.

    And you need to put me in touch with these girls...where were these kinds of things when I was in high school?!?

    "I've always considered writing the most hateful kind of work. I suspect it's a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don't do much giggling." -HST
  • Re: Re:

    Quoth JimmyJimJim89:

    Mike: "I wish I was making this up..."

    True story.



    ahhhhh sigh. i'm drunk right now. ok, lightly buzzed, but it's fun and i know i'm having a better time than my rooommate (who, btdubs, is studying) ahahhahahhahahahahha...... anywho, that's that, and thank you to pre-gaming with southern comfort and energy drinks, woot woot.

    PS: that's quickly escalating for HS girls.... wtf?

Anonymous users may not post messages. Please log in or create an account to post in the forums.