Tuesday, June 29, 2004

It's a celebration, bitches!!! 

The most random post ever.

1) Where do Russians get their mail-order brides?

2) A mohawk WILL get you laid. End of conversation.

3) My boss comes up to me with this whole scenario about, "Wouldn’t it be great if you could just write all day and have that support you and not have to put up with people like me?" WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!?!?! Am I getting fired? Did I just win a contest, or some shit? I don’t fucking know what gives anymore.

4) I keep watching the new Britney Spears video in mute... and she isn’t even naked. Is that weird? Can someone help?

5) Right now, sitting at work, bored and horny, I wanna stick my dick in something. Where’s that cute Asian chick that sits back here?

6) Getting your toe pierced is a BAD IDEA! What are they gonna pierce, the actual flesh? Don’t ask, just know that it did come up in conversation.

7) If Portugal wins the Euro I have to fulfill the promise I made of painting one ass cheek green and one red and driving up and down Ferry Street. I wonder how I’m gonna drive with no pants on in bumper-to-bumper traffic. It gets really hot with the windows down. I think the paint will run.

8) I spent part of today looking at bad boob jobs on-line with a female co-worker and came up with a realization about myself. In Hollywood, even bad boob jobs give me wood.

9) Despite what they say, Kate Beckinsale is fucking HOT and DOES NOT have a bad boob job.

10) I wanna date a model.

11) I look HOT with a tan!!!

12) I can’t wait for my reading this Thursday.

13) If it don’t fit, force it.

Lucky 13 never fails!!!

Friday, June 11, 2004

Sex with Me Can be Downright Dangerous. 

I know what you are all thinking. “Oh, he must have one of those venereal diseases!!!”, but that is not the case. I’m not the bearer of any of the gifts that keeps on giving. And as much as I’d like to brag that I’m hung like a rhinoceros, I’m not. My package is well equipped. I’ve never had complaints, well actually I have, but they have all been in a good way. Well, sort of. I’ve had complaints that I made their jaw hurt, and of “You’re not putting that thing in my little booty”. I do Okay, if you know what I mean, but it’s not so big that it can cause bodily harm. No girl should fear for her safety when getting busy with me, that is, until two nights ago.

I didn’t bruise her cervix, or send her to the hospital for stitches and a donut, but I did knee her on the chest. I fucking kneed her on the chest!!!! We weren’t trying any new Kama Sutra maneuvers, just plain ol’ mouth to penis action. Here was this young, beautiful woman, lovingly looking up at me, with my penis in her mouth and I knee her on the boob. What the fuck was I thinking? It wasn’t one of those things where she used her teeth and I kneed her of the chest as a form of revenge, not at all, there were no teeth involved. In fact it was some of the best fellatio I have ever received, lots of spit, lots of eye to eye contact, good hand action, and lots of tongue, lots, and lots of tongue. So good in fact, that I had an uncontrollable knee-jerk reaction, a knee to chest reaction. Fortunately this occurred during the act of climax. Had it happened before I wouldn’t have known what to do. Do I finish? Do I tend to my naked, and injured lover? What do I do first? At a moment like this, who can think? I know I couldn’t.

All was well in the end, aside from some slight bruising, and she having her forehead, and hair full of muck. And me feeling sorrier than the L.A. Clippers. Now I know I have make up for it by buying her flowers, taking her out to her favorite sushi restaurant, or by going downtown on her and letting her squeeze my head medieval vise-like with her legs, if she's the vindictive type. Hopefully we'll be doing it all over again, only this time with a chest protector and a helmet, cause sex with me can get downright dangerous.


Thursday, June 10, 2004

J-Lo haters 

Captain’s Blog. Stardate 20040610.

Uhura knows everybody’s been hatin’ on J-Lo for getting married again, but let Uhura be honest with you for a minute.

If J-Lo came in here with her hot ass and all her cash and asked Uhura to marry her, Uhura would jump at it! Jump!

And if Uhura was J-Lo, looking all good and with all that money, she’d marry whoever she wanted to marry just like J-Lo does.

So lets not hate just ‘cause we can’t be doing it like her.

And don’t be callin’ her J-Hoe or nothing stupid like that. That’s hate. Haterade is what y’all is drinkin’.


Uhura over and out! I holla!

Wednesday, June 09, 2004

Act a fool 

The thing about strip-joints is that no matter how hard they try to make it into a classy place, it’s still a strip-joint. There are naked women dancing for money; I’m not going to act as if it’s a reception dinner where the rest of the world is finally recognizing my literary genius. (That’s a whole different post.) I’m there to look at women and hang out with my friends, that’s all. I don’t want to, ahem ... behave.

So, having said this, I have been known to have my fun at these fine establishments. I’ve had a stripper pass me her contact information after I told her I wrote screenplays for a living. (Minor lie, but hey, if she’s gonna lie about her name I’m gonna lie about my job. And I do write screenplays, just not for a living. ) I’ve had my fun carousing with cocktail waitresses, getting cheap feels and what not. Flirting. It’s supposed to be a fun night, and I’m all about fun.

So it should come as no surprise that I have, in the past, been kicked out of one. Allow me to proceed.

I was out with two friends late one night, and while I hadn’t had anything to drink, I was feeling good. We were at the strip-joint we frequented, around the corner from my house, the one where they recognized our faces. So the barmaids always joked with us, and one of them was particularly friendly. She spoke to us in her Brazilian accent that made us wonder about what type of underwear she wore and what kind of wax jobs she got. Remember, this was 5 or 6 years ago, before any of that shit came into fashion. And we were just kids.

But because she was so friendly, we always flirted with her. It was plenty more fun than talking to the strippers. This one had a personality. So my friend and I (the other one was off in the corner somewhere) started putting tips down her shirt. The owner came out and bitched at us, told us to stop, and told my friend that he couldn’t drink because he was underage. Fine. We took it easy. Hung out for a while longer. But then she came back, like she wanted to play again. So we go and start tipping her again... and putting it down her shirt. That’s when the owner and his gorilla bouncers grab us and throw us out.


And that’s how I got thrown out of a strip joint. I wish I could tell you that I fought the bouncer and that I was this big tough motherfucker, but I let them throw me out and got in the car with my friend and drove to the after-hours strip-joint on Avenue C. Those of you who have been there know what I’m talking about.

Good times, good times.

So the moral of the story is: next time you’re at a strip-joint and you feel like acting up, make sure you have an after-hours strip-joint to move the party to, just in case you get thrown out. Nothing sucks more than blue balls.

Thursday, June 03, 2004

The shocker 

Captain’s Blog. Stardate 20040603.

Uhura just got the shocker done to her this weekend, and let her tell you that it is quite the trick.

For those of you who don't know what the shocker is, let Uhura fill you in. Hold your hand open, now bend your middle finger and pin it to your hand with your thumb. Hold the pinky and ring finger close together and you got yourself a shocker.

Now you're ready to have fun. Two in the bush, one in the tusch. Two in the pink, one in the stink. Two in the grass, one in the ass. Catch my drift?

If you haven't experienced it yet, Uhura reccomends you do so quickly. Let me know how it goes.

Uhura over and out. I holla!