The Lumberjack

This size of this giant mud ball which we call Earth never ceases to amaze me. Folks, it’s small. It’s smaller than some of you will ever know. Many of you may know exactly what I’m talking about. One day you’re in an out of the way café and boom you run into a high school classmate whom you haven’t seen in over a decade. Then again, maybe you were just walking down the street and zang you’re standing face to face with the babysitter you had when you were 8 who owned the first pair of bare breasts you ever saw. Or what may be even stranger still, you’re sitting in a seedy strip club on the wrong side of the tracks when suddenly you run into that cousin of yours who was never quite right in the head. Kids, this Earth is teeny. I say this because I’ve met the man responsible for saving my friend's ass one day. I met him in Newark and the night just got crazier from there.

Peanut and I were enjoying a very nice repast at a KFC. We had decided to pad our bellies with yard-bird and biscuit in preparation for a night of binge drinking and flirting with 18 year olds. We were awaiting the arrival of our friend, Porn-Anthony, and laughing loudly at a Christopher Reeves joke when a large dark shadow fell upon us. A giant mitten of a hand reached into my plate and grabbed some of my Sour Cream Fun Shots and shoved them into a cave a mouth which seemed a mile away. Porn-Anthony plopped down next to Peanut and greeted us all. The form which made the enormous shadow stepped into the light and spoke.

“John…” He spoke. “I know you. You and I are connected in a way you can’t possibly image. “

I trembled with fear and shook the immensely huge paw that was being extended to me. I forced a smile and stood.

“My name is Nick.” He said. “And I saved the ass of your friend Paul.”

My face twisted in confusion and we both took our seats. Suddenly it was just the two of us in the restaurant and he recounted his version of the faithful night when our friend downed near to twenty shots of Jagermeister then flung himself, twice, into the shit and used tampon festered East River in NYC. We were instantly friends. Nick had only been in Newark 48 hours and the mission for the evening was now clear. We were to pour as much alcohol down the giant gullet which Nick called a throat and laugh at him as he tried to procure some tang.
Having heard stories about Nick, from Paul, it was common knowledge that Nick “The Lumberjack” enjoyed one drink and one drink only, Jack and Coke. I would be remised if I didn’t share with you all that this man drank 5 eight-ounce glasses full of whiskey with a splash of cola in my presence. Somehow the word “impressed” just doesn’t cut the mustard. Personally, I was busy devouring Grey Goose and Cranberry’s and like a surly step-father, Nick reminded me what kind of pussy I was as “my friend had almost bought the farm at the hands to Jagermeister” and for me to only sip vodka and juice was nigh unto an insult.
I upgraded to a half-a-dozen Dead Nazi’s (Rumplemans and Jagermeister) and suddenly the world turned deep blood red.
I woke up in Porn-Anthony’s apartment and found Nick creating a weed-pipe out of tin-foil. Porn-Anthony was yammering on and on about the women they’d pick up during the hours of my “unpleasantness” and how he’d fallen asleep on top of one of the girls with his cock still inside of her yodel-patch. I didn’t ask how half of my mustache and goatee found themselves shaved off. Nor did I inquire as to how I came to be wearing the uniform of a KFC employee.
Some things are best left unknown.

Dodgeball Ain't Shit

With the success and advent of Dodgeball becoming a "professional" sport and a hit amongst the 17-28 year old demographic, I feel it's my duty to give even lesser-known, but just as cool, sports their fair share of the demographic pie. Kids today are a very lazy breed, accustomed to getting whatever their greedy little hearts desire. Parents supply them with the latest in technological distractions that literally kill their drive to go outside and play. Sure, I grew up playing old school Atari and Nintendo, but I never had the internet to distract me for hours on end. We had to GO OUT and make our own games up, most extremely dangerous and fool-hardy. But goddamn it, they were fun. And I'm calling for all of you out there to help some of these games gain professional status...maybe, dare I say it, even become recognized as an olympic sport.

Suicide (aka: Balls To The Wall; Asses Up, Peg-Ball, etc....)

Simply put, Suicide was my all-time favorite game growing up as a young troublemaker. The object is quite simple. Two teams of no less than 3 people try to catch a handball (or a tennis ball for the sissies out there) that is thrown against a wall. If one of the members of the opposing team catch a fly ball without it bouncing on the ground then the thrower of the ball must make a mad dash for the wall and touch it before the catcher pegs the shit out of him, effectively giving said victim a penalty or a letter from a word that was decided on before the game (we always chose CUNT, or FAG, or COCKFACE). After all letters or penalties are given to a person, his team must line up against the wall facing it, and the opposing team EACH gets a chance to peg every member of the other team. Those who got pegged, were eliminated. ALSO, when the ball is in play, if you drop it or it touches you then you must run to the wall or you get pegged. It was a real simple game that I remember playing every day at recess and lunch. After a while, we even stepped up to playing with a lacross ball, which caused a few kids to get hurt pretty bad BUT HEY! That's what this game is all about, violence and the humilation of the losing team.

Roman Candle Melee

Growing up in a state where fireworks were illegal made this game somewhat difficult to put together, but when it did CHAOS ensued and all was good in the neighborhood. One team would hide, while the other team went looking for them, all the while everyone armed with roman candles and bottlerockets. The rules were pretty self-explanatory: You get hit by a flaming ball...you get eliminated. That's it. Fuck Paintball and fuck Air-Soft! It's all about the roman candles baby! Nothing, I repeat NOTHING is more satisfying than sneaking up on some fat kid and shooting him in the face with a roman candle. Yeah sure, we suffered second degree burns and some kids lost a couple fingers in the ensuing melee but goddamn it, we had fun.And that's all that really matters, having fun and DOING something a little bit crazy or dangerous in order to have that fun. Kids today are a fucking lazy breed, getting fatter and wimpier with every passing second they waste sitting on the computer or playing their X-Box. I think that if more dangerous sports were recognized by the community as wholesome entertainment, they would give these kids the skills to survive in this day and age of turmoil and the ever present threat of terrorism. Because honestly, chicks dig scars not carpel tunnel from playing video games all fucking day.

Don't Believe The Hype

I've discovered a HORRIBLE new phenomenon. Apparently it's en-vogue for chicks to be bi-sexual now. Sounds great right? WRONG. Check out what happened to me on Labor Day weekend:

We rolled into Club Rain in Vegas around 2:00AM. My buddy Erik had his employees doing the music that night. He got us into the VIP section behind the DJ booth. At some point I slipped over the regular bar to see what the poor people were doing. Some drunk dude decided to be my friend and felt obligated to buy me three Jager shots. What could I do?

At this point I'm plastered and exhausted. I ask my woman if she's ready to leave and she responded with the greatest thing I've ever heard anyone say in my life:

Sure babe, but hang on one second, I want to grab this blonde chick that's been flirting with me so we can take her home.

Blondie was all caught up in the "it's my birthday / what happens in vegas, stays in vegas / I wanna get freaky tonight" kick. She was talking mad shit: "I want to suck your woman's pussy so bad" and "I'm going to fuck the shit out of both of you". Check please!

On the way back we stop at the booze store to stock up. I should have known something was fucked up when she said she wanted a bottle of water. We get back to the house and head straight for the bedroom. The girls start kissing and I'm thinking it's going to happen. Everytime I try and work in Blondie kinda pulls back. I'm not going to be a dick and deprive my woman of some fun just because I can't get some. The thing was my woman didn't get much further. Blondie must have thought she was in high school because all she wanted to do was kiss! What the fuck is that?

So the next weekend I went down to a porn convention in Mexico and had a chance to hang out with some swinger friends of mine who ran their own porn sites. We all got plastered on tequila and I figured I'd pick their brain about what happened the weekend prior.

I learned that chicks who act like they are bi-sexual is some new kind of FAD! Thanks to Queer Eye, Ellen Degeneres, and all the other gay/bi stuff in the media women have gotten it in their head that being bi-sexual is the new cool thing. It's like the Metrosexual episode of Southpark except with women. My swinger friends said this started a couple years ago as the mainstream world finally figured out there was a whole other society out there. Of course anything new and secretive must be cool. My beef is that these people don't know anything about the gay/bisexual community and it's gotta be offensive to have their culture turned into a pop phenomenon.

That and it's screwing up my sex life! WOMEN, do you not understand how FUCKING wrong this is? You have to know every guy's dream is a 3-way. I'm 110% fine if you're gay whether you're a guy or a girl. Poke whatever makes you wet/hard. But don't act like you're down with a crazy no holes barred (shit that's an unintentional bad pun) sex-fest if you're just going to wimp out!

The good news is that my swinger/porno friends have had to deal with this problem since it began and they've figured out how spot a tease from a mile away. First, find out if the chick is local. If she's a tourist, it's a good bet she's full of shit. Next, the more drunk/coked up/high she is, the less likely she's legit. It's also a great idea to ask her about her previous experiences. Virgins of any sort are always bad news. If she's never had a three way, TRUST ME, you don't want to be her first! Also, check out who she's hanging out with and watch their reactions. If you and your woman are flirting with her and her friends are freaking out, it's a very bad sign. If the friends are acting like it's nothing new you're on the right track. And the best advise they gave me is if you get to the point where you're not sure if she's legit, just ask. Don't be rude, but be honest. "so are we going to fuck or what" usually doesn't work as well as "my woman and I would love to take you home and have some fun but we want to make sure you're cool with _______." Filling in the blanks can be tough to do but it's a hell of a lot better than getting home and being disappointed or having to deal with some freaked out psycho chick