So, don’t trust a sheep farmer, my sister, or me!

Welcome to TMI Thursdays! As LiLu always says: Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

So I have told you about the Sheep Farmer incident and the time my Sister totally punked me, well please don’t think that I am innocent.

A few years ago my Sister and I were hanging out with her roommate (and my friend) Mark, when she got a call about Lesbo-A-Go-Go, at the local gay bar. She pitched the idea to Mark and I about seeing girls stripping and getting down with other girls. Of course Mark and I were in. Loaded up the grocery getter and cruised on down to the club.

Upon our arrival I was introduced to an acquaintance of my Sister’s and steadily found out she was a switch hitter. At the door I was standing next to Mark and leaned over and said, “I’ve never been to a gay bar before. I am not sure what to expect.” Being the good friend I am, I told him, “dude, you are my boyfriend for the night. That way no guys will mess with you and it will be cool. Now, quit being a pussy and hold my hand when we walk in to play this off.” So, of course, Mark grabs my hand and we walk up to the bouncer. Bouncer say’s, “oh you guys need to stop right now. Everyone in the place can see you two are straight.” This gave Mark much confidence.

We walk in and there was a lot going on. I grabbed the girl I had just met and made my way to the bar, meanwhile Mark, my Sister, and various other friends got tables for the drag show. The girl and I come back with drinks for all and we start flirting and randomly making out. It was pretty cool, though her ex was there and was not pleased a pole had invaded her space. Anyways, Mark, the girl and I were standing with our backs to the last row of high top tables. Seated behind us, 5 very sharply dressed guys, obviously out for a good time.

The girl sits down and starts talking to our friends and I hear behind me the 5 guys discussing Mark’s ass. I leaned over to the girl and said, “if you want to see something funny, what happens after I talk to these guys.” I walked over to the table, introduced myself, and explained that I had over heard their conversation regarding the status of Mark’s ass. I went on to tell them that he is a close friend and he is very shy, if they wanted him to lighten up, he would need a few shots. They agreed.

Queue several trays of shots. I grabbed Mark and whispered, “dude, just go with me on this.” Now, if someone told me this, I would instantly question their motives. Not good ‘ol trusting Mark. He jumped in head first. I introduced Mark to the guys and we engaged in a psudo-flirting conversation. Went through 3 Patron shots and a fist full of whiskey, I decided that we were about to cross a threshold that no straight guy should cross. Girls, you know what I am talking about, the put up or shut up threshold.

We were all good and buzzed maybe slightly tanked. I looked at Mark, looked at my watch, and said, “hey Mark, what time is your girlfriend coming up bro?” Instant crickets. The guys looked at us and asked, “you guys are straight?” as if it wasn’t apparent. Well, maybe not apparent about Mark, but come on. I pulled what every guy has had happen to them: I thanked the group for the drinks, old them they were nice and that we enjoyed their company; however we need to get back to our friends. Bam! That. Just. Happened.

That is how I basically auctioned used my friends ass to get us (good) free drinks in the gay bar.

Don’t trust a sheep farmer or my Sister for that matter.

Welcome to TMI Thursdays! As LiLu always says: Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

I told you last week about the incident with the sheep farmer and how he shouldn’t trusted. Well, actually, its my Sister that really shouldn’t be trusted. I had just returned from Australia and was in DC for New Years eve 2006/2007. We decided that we should go to Dupont Circle¹ and hangout at one of the bars there. Well, before we went out, I wanted to get a new shirt and tie, just to keep it on the klassy. Went to a store called Pink, found a very nice shirt, and was talked into a pink color tie. We pre-gamed a good amount and I should have known things would go down hill from here.

Getting dressed to go out I was convinced by my sister and her roommate that I should wear the new shirt and tie I just purchased. I was in, cause I looked good; Blue dress shirt with white French cuffs, black pants, nice shoes, and a pink tie. We headed out into the depths of the Circle to find “our” bar. Insanity, bars were charging like $50.00 just to get in and there was nothing special about these places. So, my Sister pipes up and says, I know this place in Adam’s Morgan², not knowing any better, I was of course, in.

We got into a cab and quickly discovered that the cabby was either drunk or just plain mental. As we get in, he notices Jen’s gigantic tits³ and we were off on a ride to Adam’s Morgan. The cabby made inappropriate, yet funny comments about my Sister and Jen, and was all “I love the lesbians. I wish my wife was a lesbian.” We thought it was funny as shit. Yeah, kind of creepy. In that DC is kind of creepy after 11pm anyways, way. Dropped us off in front of the bar.

Things were looking up, the line was short, admission cheap, and a the few girls in line were really hot. Of course started talking to them and was working out a few things. Went inside, got a few drinks and we all started dancing. Then, all of a sudden, I got that strange feeling that I was somewhere I probably shouldn’t be.

Looked around and I quickly noticed that the M:F ratio was once again, unequal. I looked at my Sister, who instantly knew, I knew what was going on and I said, “what the fuck, you brought me to a fucking sausage fest, on fucking New Year’s eve!” She said, “its cool. Plus its too late to go anywhere else.” Now, realizing that I was in a Gay bar, in Adam’s Morgan, in a pink tie, I quickly felt the need to run to the border and pound a few tequila shots. I came back to where the girls were with 3 shots and Jen says, “oh, I don’t like tequila.” Me: “Who said these were for you assholes?” Yes, obviously I was pissed. Like fighting mad pissed. Not that I was in a gay bar, but because the girls I was talking to in line, bailed as soon as they found out what the place was. I think I said something like “the gays chased my girls away.

So, as I continued to get bombed⁴ my Sister, knowing I am totally pissed went over and talked to a huddle of gay boys. Brought them over to tell me the following, “oh honey, we gave the straights the color pink years ago. Everyone here is keeps talking about the well dressed straight boy and his 2 lesbians. Lets have a drink.” After that was said, we all got bombed and I kissed Jen at midnight. Ended up having a nice time… After the reality of the moment faded.

Moral of the story, never trust my Sister when she suggests a place to go, without double checking with other sources.

1Our first mistake.

2If you ever hear “lets go to Adam’s Morgan, punch that person in the face.

3You couldn’t miss these things, they were a size double G or something. Once, I put her bra on my head and pretended I was working a rice patty. I thought it was funny.

4What else do you do in this situation?

Sticky Situation

Welcome to TMI Thursdays! As LiLu always says: Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

It has been a while since I have put out a good TMI. In light of that, today I bring you a public service announcement JP style. Ladies and some gentlemen (I have diverse readers), listen up, this could happen to you!

Recently I found myself entrenched in a very good, nay epic, session of sexy time. It was a throw down if you will. It was Boston at my house and I was the lead runner in the marathon. Things were all they were billed to be. In the morning or same night, depending on your persepctive, I dropped the young lady off at her house and went back to the honey comb hideout. As I crawled into bed* I felt something tugging on my my shaft.

Well, actually let me start off in the beginning. Before I even embarked on this journey, I did some manscaping, knowing full well what the evening had in store. If I have learned anything in my short time on this earf,  is no one want to play an over grown course if you know what I mean. Smooth as the 18th green. The girl and I went out, had drinks, and closed the bar. On the way out I offered her a piece of gum, because no one wants to kiss drunk breath.**

Well, fast forward to me going to bed and nagging feeling that something was just not right, um, in my world. Reached down, did a 24 point inspection and found a major issue. It seems the gum I had previously given to my date was now hitching a ride on the S.S. JP submarine. Thats right folks, she forgot to take out her gum, before she attached her mouth on my shaft. Now, please realize two things: 1) She blew me early on in the evening and then later as the ceremonies were coming to a close. So, there is no real detailed timeline on this event. 2) The gum was attached and I didn’t realize it, well, due to the events of the evening. I did what any decent man would do, pulled off the foreign object and went to sleep.***

So, the moral of the story ladies (and gentlemen) is: If you are going to blow a guy, take the fucking gum out your mouf!

*My roommate had questions, actually more of a noise compliant due to the preacher man activities on my side of the house.

**Yes, I was thinking of only myself at this point in time. I do have a mild gum addiction and hate skank breath.

***It was only skin contact, because I had manscaped earlier. Plus, I was wicked fucking tired and didn’t give a shit enough to freak out.