[inline:faithful][Editors note: Last year we posted this story and since Memorial Day weekend is 4 days away, we wanted it to serve as inspiration to go out and do something you'll never forget.]
Long holiday weekends chocked full of regrets and destroyed brain cells are my f*cking calling card. And Memorial Day weekend just so happens to be the apple of my cock's tiny eye (or is it a mouth?). Memorial Day marks the unofficial beginning of summer, or as I like to call it, The Season of Sin. It's the time of year when the stench of sex consumes the air, when winter relationships crumble, and when girls wear significantly less and put out significantly more.
Each year, my closest friends and I plan our entire weekend around a warm destination, fast tracking our way to liver disease, and unsuitable behavior. The story I am about to tell took place in in Avalon, N.J., during Memorial Day a few short years ago.
At the time, I was still living in Miami and fresh off a horrific break up that seemed to plague me worse than cottage cheese plagues Oprah's inner thighs. To gauge just how bad I took this particular break up, you should know that it caused me to hoe myself out just so I could get my self-esteem up. Fat chicks eat pies and ice cream, and I like chicks to eat my cream -- we each cope in our own special way. But I don't want to go off on a tangent...
After flying into Philly late Thursday night, I caught up with my boys and then we left for Avalon first thing Friday morning. When we arrived, we hit the liquor store, the beer distributor, and then we headed to our hotel. Once we got there, the hotel staff took one look at us and knew none of us present were 25 years old -- the age you apparently need to be to find lodging in this town. Then, after we failed to produce evidence that we were 25 (because we weren't), they proceeded to tell us we couldn't check in. So my best friend JB, who has a lethal amount of venom perpetually coursing through his veins, engaged in a less-than-cordial exchange with a female staff member.
JB: "I just drove two f*cking hours and you are going to sit here and tell me about some horseshit age policy? It's not my fault that your uneducated staff let us book our room. Let me speak to your goddamn manager."
Staff Person: "I am the manager, sir, and we are going to have to ask you to leave."
JB: "How about you quit being such an ornery c*nt and give us our room keys? What the f*ck are we supposed to do every other hotel is sold out?"
Staff Person: "I don't care and if you don't leave, I'm calling the cops."
That was all we needed to hear, so we left. I'm not sure why she was so angry; last I checked "ornery c*nt" was a term of endearment.
Eventually we found a motel that would allow us to stay there. The place was disgusting. Our room smelled like stale cigarettes and bleach (some prostitute must have bled out on the mattress a night earlier). Vile smells aside, we'd have a place to lay our heads for the next few nights and potentially contract hepatitis. So this room would do just fine.
While we had no answer for the unsanitary conditions, our friend Scotty quickly solved the scent problem by firing up his bong. He may be an enormous pot head and kind of retarded looking, but he really knows how to improvise. And to our credit at the end of the trip we left the room in pretty good condition. I would even argue that we upgraded the smell from stale cigarettes and bleach to urine, weed, seminal fluid, and human shit. Ever the showman and apparently still bitter from the other hotel kicking us out, JB upper-decked the toilet before we left. His shits don't come in the log variety either. His ass is all sludge, all the time. I can't think of a better parting gift to leave the maid staff.
The first night we headed out to a bar called The Princeton. Right when we got there I saw something I was fond of -- a tall, sexy black chick (think Gabrielle Union) with an ass like an old tree stump, round and sturdy. Our eyes instantly connected, hers were telling me, "Goddamn! This white boy is pretty sexy." While my eyes spouted back, "It's hurtful when you refer to me as 'white boy,' but I will look past that since I want to f*ck you like a runaway train."
Since the night was still young, I decided to wait until later in the night (when I was good and drunk) to approach her and confirm that she was not only into me, but a fuming racist as well.
Fast forward several hours... My beauty was now talking with some douchebag who was probably a stand-up guy, but I like to judge books by their cover (and then put them down without ever reading them). I was just drunk enough to ignore the fact that this boner was with her and I decided to approach her.
I grabbed a friend of mine and we walked up to her and her friend, completely cock blocking the other fool as we introduced ourselves. An hour and few more rounds later, the douchebag, who in fact proved to be disposable, was nowhere to be found and the bar was about to close. The four of us decided to keep the party going so we went back to her beach house. When we got there, things got crazy. Fast. My girl took it upon herself to take her clothes off almost immediately and walk around in front of everyone with just a bra and thong on. Her big old ass was just flapping in the breeze and I loved it.
Not long after we arrived, people started to leave and go to bed. My new love and I decided to go to her room and what transpired still makes me all misty eyed.
Girl: "So do you have any condoms."
Me: "No, of course not."
Girl: "Ok, I keep some here just in case." (She pulls out a 24 pack.)
Me: "In case what? You feel like f*cking an entire marching band?"
I obviously paid no attention to the fact that she had more condoms than the free clinic, because nothing was going to stop me from this accomplishment.
When we finally started to f*ck she insisted on being on top. Who am I to argue? So I let her knock her socks off -- and mine. I swear on my future grave that this girl was an aspiring contortionist. She was spinning around on my dick like it was the earth's axis. If she made one false or miscalculated move my dick would be ripped clean off my torso.
About 20 minutes later she starts screaming, "Oh God! I'm gonna c*m, I'm gonna c*m!" I'm thinking, "Good for you, I'm sure the Lord is thrilled for you." Next thing I know, she jumps off my dick and f*cking uses her c*nt as a Super Soaker. It was coming at me like she put her thumb partially over the end of a hose. I had never seen such a sight.
Me: "What the hell! I seriously can't compete with that, but I have no reservations about pissing all over you."
Girl: "Haha. You're funny. I'm so sorry about that."
Me: "Please get me a towel so I can clean off whatever the hell this mess is that you just left all over me."
After I wiped the slime off, we got back to the grind. Only this time, I got on top and clubbed her till I busted a salty nut. But the fun didn't stop there.
Since I was 30 blocks away from my hotel and in no mood to walk, I decided it was best for me to lay my head down and sleep at this girl's place. I didn't know it at the time, but I really did have no reservations about pissing on her. And I would soon have my revenge for the squirting extravaganza that took place all over my junk and stomach. About two hours after we fell asleep I was awoken to this broad screaming like she just got pissed on. Because, she did. In my inebriated state, I apparently slept walked and then stood at the foot of the bed and just pissed all over her. I drenched this broad from head to toe. Evidently I was like a little kid trying to see how far his piss stream can go. I by the way, have never seen someone so angry over a little bit of urine.
I attempted to assure her (through my laughter) that it wasn't intentional and that I sometimes have a problem of pissing in weird places when I drink beer, but she insisted that I leave. Since I already got what I came for, I obliged and walked 30 blocks home with an empty bladder and the weekend's first great triumph. God I love Memorial Day.
I hope all of your summers start off with an unforgettable bang.