
This weekend my buddy and I had dinner with his Grandmother and after one drink she should have been sent home. Her vulgarity and blood alcohol levels were off the charts. So off the charts what I am about to type may make some of you uncomfortable. However, if you read my blog you already know this feeling occurs frequently.
CAUTION PROCEEDING: THIS BLOG IS VULGAR!
My friends Grandmother, let's call her Gene, explained in her generation when there was a man you wanted to go to bed with you had to marry him. Her theory made sense: Limit your partners, save your reputation. That's why everyone was married when they were 18 to 21, they wanted to bone. Gene then said for no particular reason, "the reason everyone loved the Catholic girls was because they gave the best head!"
After dinner drunk Gene told me she only loved one man and he was in heaven but she would have loved to go to bed with me. I went to the bars with my friends and got wrecked. I said to my friend Jennifer, "should I just do it? Should I send Grandmom off the right way?"
Jennifer and I continued to drink when she asked me, "would you do it for a million dollars?" I wasn't sure. She said a billion. I said yes. I told her there's isn't a thing in this world I wouldn't do for a billion. She asked would I lose a limb? I said absolutely. Would I lose my penis? My response, "why live?"
I continued to drink and it made more and more sense to me. I have a penis for a reason. My wang-piece is the gift of life and provider of pleasure so I might as well use it as often as I can. Don't judge me! Yes she is 80 years old, but how much would it mean to her? I get to send her off to Heaven the proper way. She most likely dies and I highly doubt they would perform an autopsy and all I have to do is close my eyes and picture a much younger, thinner, wetter vagina. Sure I would be haunted for eternity, but what else do the elder have to live for?
The following day I nursed my hangover the only way one should. I woke up and drank on the beach with friends. My friend Jennifer and I discussed blow jobs and and she told me growing up she never swallowed because she feared she would get preggers. I would like to use a lifeline now and ask the audience, WHO OUT THERE REALLY BELIEVES THIS?
As the conversation evolved, Jennifer's friend said she has no problem swallowing. I knew she would have been a star in Ookie Cookie, but she didn't know what this was. Ookie Cookie, I explained, is a game that questions men's sexuality more than wrestling. It is believed to be played at camp, sleepovers, frat hazing, etc.
Rules: Place a cookie in the center of a table or circle. All of the members of the party then sit or stand around the cookie and proceed to stroke their members. The last one to cum on the cookie must eat the cookie.
After explaining this her friend said, "why do only boys get a cookie for eating semen? Hell, I'm used to swallowing. I'd consider a cookie an improvement."
Men right then a new man law was established: After ejaculating do the right thing. If she asks for a cookie, give her a glass of a milk.
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