Wednesday, October 28, 2009
My roommate likes to play with my penis. Just that she doesn't know what to do with it which leaves me feverishly pumping it to get the job done. I can understand "Brad's" actions, at least the night time incident. But beating off in the morning is like working out in the morning, fuck that.
After reading that, ever wonder what kind of cult following you have? Dudes who beat off? Girls who are curious about you?
Oh, and I woke up without any underwear on. You know what that means.
Gotta clean house tonight.
If you don't get Jason Mulgrew's monthly email I've copied it below along with his blog address.
Taken from Jason Mulgrew's latest monthly newsleter.
[In the following story, certain names and locations have been changed to protect the innocent.]
Recently, one of my friends here in LA, Kim, went to a wedding. She went as the date of her father, because the wedding was the daughter of an old family friend, and it was held in some beautiful mountain resort in or near Lake Tahoe. So Kim thought: free trip to Tahoe? Wedding? Sure, I'm in.
At the wedding, Kim met a guy, Brad, who was friends with the groom. They spent much of the evening together, sharing stories about their mutual hometown of San Francisco, where Brad still lived and where Kim traveled to often, both for family reasons and on business. Kim was charmed by Brad, but, blunt girl that she is, told him right away that there would be no funny stuff that night. Brad laughed it off, perhaps thinking that he might be able to seduce Kim anyway, but no - the two of them spent the night talking, and when the hotel bar closed up, they exchanged numbers. Kim was planning on being in San Fran two weeks later, and Brad said he'd love to take her out.
Two weeks passed and Kim found herself on a Saturday night date with Brad. Again, the two of them were getting along well; Kim thought Brad was funny and good-looking, and she could tell that Brad was interested in her. Brad, like Kim, was career-driven, successful, and liked to booze. Kim thought she just might be on to something with this guy.
After dinner, they had some drinks, and a little making out started happening. And once again, Kim drew a line in the sand and told Brad that she was not going to sleep with him that night. Considering they started making out again as soon as those words left her mouth, Brad probably didn't believe her this time, either.
But yet again, Kim held firm on her promise. Though they got bombed, went back to Brad's place, continued making out, and slipped into bed and out of some clothes, Kim made it abundantly clear that there would be no coitus that night. As a compromise, the late-twenties-but-apparently-sixteen-year-old Kim decided to give Brad a handjob. In my personal opinion, not the best gesture, but hey, better than nothing.
Kim was only churning the butter paddle for a few seconds before Brad took over the controls and started manipulating his genitals himself. Kim was a little taken aback, and didn't really know what to do while Brad pumped away. So she sort of lay there. And Brad eventually ejaculated. On himself. And then, in under fifteen seconds, he was fast asleep.
Now, this is nothing for Brad to be ashamed of, which is what I told Kim when she told me this story. For as intelligent and sexually well-versed the modern woman is, she doesn't understand that if a man has a boner and a naked woman in his bed, one of them's going to have to go away. It's either going to be the boner, after having been successfully played with and climaxed, or it's going to be the woman, who is creeped out by the guy screaming, "What? You have to finish it! Are you serious??? Is this junior high??? Or are we in Russia??? You can't leave me with this! YOU ARE A HARPIE!!! A TRUE HARPIE!!!!"
And remember, Brad was really drunk in this scenario. Another thing the modern woman sometimes fails to understand is that when a man's blood-alcohol level climbs over .15, his concerns - and his only concerns - are (in order):
- "I want to fuck"
- "I want to eat"
- "I want to fight"
- "I hate my parents" or "I hate my ex-girlfriend" (tie)
This is just how guys are hard-wired (tee hee!). We want sex when we're boozed. In the absence of sex, we want food. In the absence of sex and food, we want to fight. In the absence of sex, food and fighting, we hate. I mean, really, you don't need a PhD in psychology to figure this shit out. It's not hard, people (haha!).
So, I said, I can empathize with Brad, bombed, a naked Kim laying next to him, and needing to get a nut off before passing out. I mean, personally, I probably would not have spooged on myself and instead aimed more in her direction, nor would I have then fallen asleep with the said spooge on me, but still, I'm not one to judge. Really, if I'm fortunate enough to get a nut off in the presence of a naked woman, I'd shoot it in the open and waiting jaws of a pitbull, if I had to. Just gimme dat-dat-dat nut.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, Kim said. But wait - there's more.
The next morning, our new couple-o'-the-night woke up, both nursing hangovers. However, apparently their respective hangovers didn't prevent them from a morning make-out session. Kim was down with it, but, as she later recounted, not more than thirty seconds into their morning make-out party, Brad once again took his own member in his hand and began beating away (Kim hadn't even touched yet). The same scene more or less repeated itself: Kim didn't know what to do with herself and sort of just laid there and Brad brought himself to orgasm, again on himself. This time, however, he left out a deep breath, said "Thank you," gave her a little kiss, and got up to get a beat rag.
Brad offered to take Kim to breakfast, but she said she had a relatively early flight that morning/afternoon (which was true, and which had mentioned the previous night) and had to decline. They parted ways at the doorway of Brad's apartment, with Brad saying he'd love to see her next time she came to San Fran. Sure, Kim said. But she didn't mean it.
Kim had told all her girlfriends about this story before she called me to get the "guy's perspective." Giving the "guy's perspective" has been my thing for years, dating back to the days in high school when I was the best friend of every hot girl in the neighborhood, who considered me a repository for advice, a font of wisdom, and a gay, while I considered them in their Catholic high school uniforms, locked in my bedroom each with a sock duct-taped in their mouths, and "Mmm...is that cinnamon I smell? Yeah, you're so pretty...such a pretty girl..."
(Boy, that got real weird, real quick.)
Anyway, Kim was bummed because she thought she could really grow to like Brad, but, you know, there was the whole thing about how he jerked off on himself - twice. She couldn't continue to see him, right?
What we have here is a tragedy, my friends. The good thing is that Kim and I both agreed to give Brad a pass on the first beat-fest. When drunk, while it's not quite anything goes, a lot of things are forgivable. Beating yourself off is not very bad on the spectrum of "Weird Sexual Shit That Could Go Down While Drunk." Again, it was admittedly a little weird that he didn't seek any help from her, blew it on himself, and didn't clean it up, but that's fine. Booze makes you do silly things.
But Kim couldn't get over the morning masturbation, particularly how quickly Brad got into it, and how comfortable he was with doing it. I explained to Kim another very basic guy rule: sexually-speaking, guys are going to do whatever you let us get away with. And not only are we always trying to push the envelope (or at least nudge it a little bit), to us, there is no "one time" when it comes to sex. For example, if you let us do you in the heinie just once, we're going to both want to and assume it's ok to do it again. Same thing applies for all manner of "borderline" sexual acts: TFing, facials, toys, role-playing, various ass-play activities unrelated to genital-anal penetration, etc.
(Author's Note: Seriously, how proud do you think my mom is right now? Isn't it every parent's dream that their child will someday grow up and email the phrase "various ass-play activities unrelated to genital-anal penetration" to several thousand people, the large majority of them strangers? Man. I'm the best.)
The point is that I thought that Kim was perhaps being too harsh on Brad. So, as someone who works at a law firm and who is a man, I took it upon myself to defend my fellow man, masturbatory idiosyncrasies aside. Thus, I made the following points to Kim:
1) You told him - many times - that you were not going to sleep with him. Don't you find it nice that Brad respected your wishes and went elsewhere for his release? What's a poor guy to do?
2) You were the one who offered him a handjob in the first place. You lead a horse to water, and are surprised when he doth drinketh?!?!?!
3) Re: the night jerk - what kind of effort did you make when you were at the control panel? Did you roll up your sleeves and really get in there and work it? Or was it a lame, half-assed attempt? Imagine a guy trying to be romantic and nice and, say, doing your hair for you. Wouldn't you, if you really needed to get your hair done, at some point gently take over yourself and get that mother fucking hair did?
4) Re: the morning jerk - you said - many times - that you had an early flight. Maybe Brad was trying to help you out and wrap things up as quickly as possible and get you on your way to ensure safe and timely travel? Perhaps it was not his own creepiness that caused him to beat off in the morning, but a sense of selflessness and efficiency?
As I passionately and breathlessly laid these points out to Kim, she sat there listening, then sort of drifted off, then listened again (after I banged on the table), then looked at her cell phone, then I banged on the table again, and then she said, right around minute fourteen, "Ok ok - Jesus Christ, I'll go out with him again!"
Am I satisfied that I was able to earn a reprieve for Brad? Of course. I hope that Brad and Kim continue to date, fall in love, marry and have a wonderful family. Or at the very least, I hope that Brad doesn't request on their next date that Kim sit on the couch, not move and not look him in the eye, while he listens to one of those nature sounds cds and plays with himself for a few hours. Keep your fingers crossed.
But the important lesson here, ladies, is that men are wonderful and layered (though not necessarily complicated) creatures, capable at once of great kindness, compassion and love, and of bizarre, embarrassing and incredible behavior - especially when booze and sex are involved. Love us, but do so with a heart full of understanding, and we will follow where you lead.
(And hopefully we will at least have the presence of mind and decency to clean the spooge off ourselves before falling asleep. If we're not really tired, that is.)
Like this? Forward it on to your friends, lovers, co-workers.
To sign up for the monthly email, go to www.jasonmulgrew.com
If this happens to you, call 1-888-243-6185, enter “#” when they ask for a membership number, and they will cancel your membership for you. I just did it with no problems. Although I do have to call back; the whole process went way too smoothly and I forgot to ask that they take the charges off my card.
And, to add insult to injury, I received the following email:
This email confirms that your cancel request for your membership in Shopping Essentials+ has been processed on 10/21/2009. Your cancellation confirmation number is 124333378-20091021. You do not need to do anything else to cancel your membership.
We thank you for your interest in Shopping Essentials+, and we hope your membership experience was a positive one.
If you have any comments or suggestions that might help us better serve our members, please feel free to email us at email@example.com.
Nothing like a “We took you for $20 and you liked it!” email.
And my email to restaurants.com after I got the shopessplus.com membership canceled:
I received charges from shopessplus.com, after doing research I found out it came from a purchase on your website. Please delete all my personal info from your files. If I receive another email/charge related to my business with your company I will look into pressing charges.
B to the…
To which I got the response:
At the end of your order there is an offer to receive $10 cash back for completing a survey and becoming a member with Shopping Essentials. For completing this survey you have agreed to let Restaurant.com give Shopping Essentials your information, including the credit card information that was used in your order. If you do not wish to continue your membership with Shopping Essentials after your 30-day free trial, you will need to contact Shopping Essentials before you get charged the $14.95 monthly membership fee, which will start 30 days after the completion of your survey, which is also the same date as your Restaurant.com order. Shopping Essentials number is 888-999-0564.
Fuck you, dude. I never do online surveys. $10 cash back on my $2 purchase? Where’s my $8? Fuck you, dude.
Kazemi, 4:04 p.m.: Baby I have to be w u 2nite. I dnt care where
Kazemi, 4:16 p.m.Tell me u gonna be w me
Kazemi, 8:34 p.m.: baby where u gonna be at when I get off
McNair, 8:50 p.m.: I'm at home baby what time u get off
Kazemi, 8:51 p.m.: round 11
Kazemi, 9:10 p.m.: where u gonna be at baby
McNair, 9:15 p.m.: at home til the kids fall asleep
Kazemi, 9:18 p.m.: k ill call when I get off
Kazemi, 10:23 p.m.: do u wanna get out n drink
McNair, 10:35 p.m.: Probably not baby having trouble with the kids getting to sleep
Kazemi, 10:45 p.m.: k im going to the condo in a min
McNair, 10:59 p.m.: ok
Kazemi, 11:28 p.m.: they asleep babe
McNair, 11:34 p.m.: they are on the way
McNair, 12:38 a.m.: On my way
Kazemi, 12:38 a.m.: k
Kazemi, 12:48 a.m.: u want me to open the gate
McNair, 12:52 a.m. (sent twice): No open the front door
Kazemi, 1:14 a.m.: its open
RIP, Steve McNair
Monday, October 26, 2009
I have no idea who Lady Gaga is. Am I out of touch with the world?
Friday, October 23, 2009
Me: Stop, stop, hit it off the rail so you don't...
She hits it.
This led to a huge argument because I tried to help out. Now my Halloween costume is sitting in the garbage and the last thing I remember putting in there was sperm; not in a napkin or paper towel, just on top off everything else in the garbage. Don't think I can bring myself to where that.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Ok, I’m not really here to find a girlfriend or anything like that. My life is pretty much set in its way. I’ve worked hard(ly) to get where I’m at and I just don’t feel like changing much anymore. But I have been told I’m fun to hang out with (you know, the whole stimulating conversation along with fits of laughter complete with the occasional fart joke – sans actual fart). Beers, drinks, sports, and a sports bar – sound like fun? And as a gentleman should, I’ll even pick up the tab. Hey, if you don’t have any fun at least you’ll get some drinks for free. You know what they say, free drinks always taste better. And I might even look like Brad Pitt if you have enough of them (wink).
God, after re-reading all that, sounds pretty freaking corny. Lame.
Like I said, I haven’t been in the actual site for a long time. Today I clicked over after the markets were closed and checked out the mailbag. To my surprise Lynda had left me a note:
Reading your profile made me, well, lol. (and you thought you were lame.) Funny stuff. So you’re looking to meet a stimulating conversation friend… is that right?
…a stimulating conversation friend who fucks. Come on bitches, wake up and smell the coffee!
Here are Lynda's pictures.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
I don't understand how these athletes can turn down this kind of money.
Friday, October 16, 2009
After posting the pictures and doing my little write-up I received this email from Katie:
OK! I’VE EXCUSED YOUR BULLSHIT IN THE PAST BUT HOW THE FUCK DID I GET DRAGGED INTO YOUR SICK “I HAVE A SMALL DICK THAT I JERK OFF EVERYDAY” BLOG!! YES I’M YELLING!!!!! YOU’RE AN ASSHOLE AND THERE ISN’T A CHANCE IN HELL YOU’D EVER GET A PIECE OF THIS!!!
YOUR HOTTIE OF THE DAY-KATIE
Have a Great day!
(One of the reasons why I don’t an email signature on any of my email accounts.)
To which I had to respond: It really isn’t all that small… but you’re right, I do jerk off a bit too much. Wouldn’t have to if you helped me out…
Katie: You’re an asshole!
Have a Great day!
As for my Halloween costume, I’m thinking about either getting a Plaxico Burress jersey online or making my own, letters and numbers painted on with fake blood, sweatpants, more blood on my left leg and a toy gun. I’ve told others my idea. From the responses I received I gather that most of the chicks won’t get it but the guys will – just the crowd I’m going for.
Monday, October 12, 2009
I started to feel ill Wednesday night. I sat downstairs and stared at my weight set trying to get the motivation to do something but I just wasn’t up to it. I had to leave a meeting on Thursday because my throat was horribly scratchy and sore. I “made an appearance” at work on Friday but ended up leaving at 2:00. When people started to avoid me like I had the plague I decided it was time to leave. Friday night I sat and watched TV with six blankets on me alternating between the chills and the sweats. I went to bed at 2:00 am, fell asleep in a pool of sweat around 5:00 am, and got up on Saturday surprisingly refreshed. Still I thought it might be wise to see a doctor about my condition. Sure enough, H1N1. The doctor was flabbergasted that I had recovered from it in such a short time period. I wasn’t completely recovered; if you had put a lawn mower in front of me I would have lasted 30 seconds pushing that thing around. Same thing with a flight of stairs. I called my boss and told him the news. Guess who can't go in to work this whole week?
Good health is something that I take for granted. Now that I can’t do much more than walk and talk, I think of all the times that I should have lifted weights but didn’t due to sheer laziness. Before I got sick I hadn’t touched a weight for over a week. By the time I am actually able to lift it will probably be three weeks in between sessions. When I get back in the swing I’m going to change it up. Instead of doing everything in one day I’m going to break it out by body part; chest one day, back the next, etc… Hopefully that way I’ll be in the basement more than twice a week, expend a little more energy, and maybe get back in shape to the extent where I can enter the Wisconsin State Fair’s body building competition again. The last time I did it I faired pretty well, but that was five years ago.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Friday, October 09, 2009
Response: I don't even need to write it. And by the way, rarely if ever, has a reader e-mail made me this proud. The only way it would have been better is if you snapped at the teacher, "Shouldn't we have gotten a double-D?" Come to my Portland signing, bring the paper and I will autograph the paper and give you a free book. Take that, uptight teacher who doesn't have a sense of humor.
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Monday, October 05, 2009
Saturday, October 03, 2009
Friday, October 02, 2009
The other day I Googled "Jason Mulgrew." That's when I found out there was a Wikipedia page about him. Reading about him growing up and going to college sounded just as he has written on his blog. But then I came to this: "Since being cured of homosexuality in 2006..." I almost peed myself laughing so hard. Not knowing if he knew about it I had to send him an email. "You were cured of homosexuality in 2006? That's some funny ass shit!" To my surprise I got a response from him two days later. "You son of a...did you write that?"
I have now "befriended" three people on the internet that I have never met. Shannon,"Drunk and Single in NY," who used to send me lovely pictures of her boobies, Swandad, operator of "The Diary of Third and Long," who thankfully doesn't send me his boobie pictures (although he certainly could with all the ladies of NY running around), and now Jason Mulgrew.
All this boobie talk has gotten me a little excited!