Wednesday, August 7, 2013

The Doggy Throw Up Story...

Occurred: January 2005
When I first started bouncing my G.A.M.E. was about as proficient the Cleveland Cavaliers were pre (and post) Lebron. In other words any girls that I scored was either pure luck or a lack of a good defense on her part, and then some girls would just hand me the ball and clear the lane for me. I’ll be honest, a lot of my hook ups were just the result of luck, but as the saying goes luck is the combination skill and opportunity. In other words I was in the right plus at the right time. Unfortunately for as lucky as I was there was a certain canine that had a proportionate amount of bad luck.
It was my third weed bouncing at IrishFratBar and it was closing time. Everyone was actually being pretty chill and making their way towards the door. There weren’t any frat boys trying to spit game at sorostitutes, no guidos trying to get their RoadHouse on, and no bums trying to get inside to get change and what not. What there was though was a thick ginger giving me “fuck me” eyes left and right. Without any hesitation she came right up, got my number, and left and started texting before I had any of my side work done. Now this was back in 2005, way before smart phones had become popular and texting was still fairly new (and a pain in the ass).
She was kind of thick (freshman 15), had a cute face, was a ginger, and decent tits (c cup). She was definitely sober fuckable. I had no better options that night so I decided to head over to her place. As I walked I am greeted with, “We need to get on the level”, and a Miller Lite which she insisted that I chug. I obliged and downed it in a shade under 7 seconds. I’m half German, I drink beer to sober up. Apparently this wasn’t enough to prove my drinking superiority to her. Handed me a half full bottle of Jack Daniels and dared me to chug it. Now, me and whiskey have a love-hate relationship. I love how it makes me feel in moderation, I hate the stupid decisions I make when I’m wasted off of it. Want to guess what this night would fall into?
Ok Frank…all you gotta do is chug that Mr. Daniels like he isn’t some asshole from Tennessee that is royally going to fuck you up for question….yes you will regret the hangover and some vomiting will ensue (more on that in a few)….but she’s fackable… daniels will make her look hotter which will make it easier to get off….stop being a pussy….down the fucking bottle….
I feel Mr. Daniels hitting my taste buds. I resist the urge to gag or god forbid vomit. All half liter of Mr. Daniels goes down and for a few minutes I feel he has been vanquished. I am on top of the world. I have defeated the Anderson Silva of liquors. I did what Chael Sonnen couldn’t do and sealed the deal on this unstoppable assassin or so I thought. Just like how the Mr. Silva came back in the final round and tapped out Mr. Sonnen, Mr. Daniels sneaks up on me out of nowhere and has me in the drunken stupor equivalent of a triangle choke. I am in serious trouble. It suddenly dawns on me that I have shotgunned a Miller Lite and downed a half a bottle of Jack Daniels and I haven’t been at CrazyGinger’s place for even 10 minutes. My motor functions are starting to shut down at a rapid rate. I am fucked. And then one of CrazyGinger’s friends shows up, a male friend, with a bottle of southern comfort.
The friend has the bright idea of doing shots, soco and limes to be exact. CrazyGinger is overly enthusiastic about this idea. I secretly hope both her and TheFriend walk by and exposed nuclear reactor. They line the shots up and hand me one. I take it and hope that I throw up on something valuable to her.
8 hours later (approximately)……..
I’m in CrazyGinger’s bed, I’m naked, shes naked. I assume that we had sex. My head feels like the ghost of Mr. Daniels is still around skull fucking me. This is intensified by the fact that have to take a piss. I roll out of the bed, and make my way towards the bathroom. I see her dog, I love dogs, I go to pet the dog. the dog runs from me like I’m a Vietnamese Chef, I am confused, I go and piss anyway.
After draining the ole’ sea monster, I hop in bed which wakes up CrazyGinger. I reward her waking up this amazing gift called “sex with me”. Apparently the bulletin board above her bed isn’t designed for bed rock but its all good because it falls on me and doesn’t break my rythym or pace. She gets off, I get off and everything is all peachy, Except for this skull fucking hangover and the fact that her dog was scared of me like I Michael Meyers. At first I don’t want to ask because I think that’s just how her dog is around strangers, especially one that just did to mommy what her dog has probably been doing to her leg. Finally I cave in and ask her:
CrazyGinger: “Oh, you threw up on him.”
I start having memories pop in my head about what happened post-SoCo shots and pre-Sex. I had to vomit at some point and I knew that I wasn’t going to make it too the toilet. Since I’m like a gentleman or something I decide to grab her teddy bear. I remember that I actually had to pin down the teddy bear.
Why the fuck did I HAVE to pin down a teddy bear?
Why the fuck was it moving?
I pinned down her dog (thinking it was a teddy bear) and vomited all over him so it wouldn’t go on the carpet.
This wasn’t just any puke. This was puke consisting of shitty piss water, Mr. Daniels retribution, and his cousin (SoCo). Honestly if I were that dog I would have taken piss all over me the second I passed out on CrazyGinger’s bed. He might have, I have no idea. All I know is that I threw up on a dog and had crazy drunken sex with his thick, ginger mommy, and fucked her a second time in the morning for good measure (and so that I could actually remember having sex with her).
Ladies, I’ll drink anything if it leads to me having sex with y’all. Just a heads up though, If it involves whiskey then be prepared for the consequences. In this case it involved a screaming orgasm, a dog smelling like thrown up whiskey, and a broken bulletin board. If this sounds like a fun time then hit me up at Can’t wait to hear from you.


  1. YAWN. Learn to spell or use spell check, dunce. Maybe you took too many blows to the head.

  2. OR gave to many blows with your mouth.