"Battle Shits" Banned

So Romantic

This special night must have been with a blind person.  How much bigger could that bottle of Vagisil be?

My 1st Work Hangover

Graph Expo (Chicago), October 2002. First job out of college as a sales rep for a 17 billion dollar company. Here I am at the biggest printing trade show platform in North America, ready to take on every business owner known to man. 22 years old and all I want to do is be that guy...the one that surprises all those "mentors" who could really give a shit about the kid out of college. First order of business, take care of those clients that are willing to spend the dough. One thing everyone needs to know about this company is that every rep needs to do whatever it takes to get these clients reeled in - dinners, drinks, gifts, blah, blah, blah..ENTERTAINMENT IS YOUR MIDDLE NAME. And for me, the company that resides in Los Angeles (my territory), wanted exactly that.

The trade show ends on day one and almost every rep has plans with different clientele. Luckily for me, my GM asked if I could entertain some guests as a good "first time to get my cherry popped" experience in the world of sales. How hard could it be, right? Take some guys out to dinner and drinks and call it a night and be ready for our morning meeting at 7am the next day. This didn't go according to plan...

One thing I realized was that when you have a group of men that have been married for years, kids in high school and get the opportunity to leave all that for 5 days for free food, booze and entertainment...they are gonna run with it! FOR ALL 5 FUCKING DAYS!!!! For them, it's like a bachelor party without the bachelor and Las Vegas present. Instead of writing massive amounts of lines, let me draw out what our itinerary was like:

7pm - Drinks at the hotel bar (Sky Bar at the W Hotel is the bomb)...3-4 drinks

8:30pm - Another bar down Rush and Division...roughly 3-5 drinks. We're feeling saucy and at this point, business talk has been thrown out the fucking window and now topics include, sports, next bar to hit and possible strip clubs.

10pm - Pit stop at the Excalibur (don't worry, we didn't fly to Vegas and this isn't a strip joint). Low and behold, we're at a party thrown by my company's lovely competitor. They have no fucking clue who I am...I'm the recent college grad, remember? Free drinks for me and my clients = edge of blacking out!

1am - Guess what folks, we're still drinking for free!

3am - Blacking out is almost near...

5am - Shit faced, about to throw up and my generous hospitality gets a limo for me and my guests back to the hotel. Let me mention that the hotel was probably only 5 blocks away. My excuse? We couldn't walk to save our lives.

6am - Not really sure what happened between the time we got in the limo and back to the hotel. And I'm not really sure I want to remember...my point is we got back fuckers! Oh, guess who has a meeting in 1 hour? Me! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!!!

7am - Enter drunk me into a room with 25 other drunk fucks who haven't slept. Thank you Jesus! This ain't so bad afterall...

10am - Meeting and breakfast is over, hit the showroom floor and here comes the fury of, "Holy shit man, I'm either gonna throw up or shit myself." What to do, what to do?

10:45am - Scrambling to the bathroom in this big ass venue. I'm new to everything and have no clue where I'm at because 1) I'm still fucked up, 2) I'm about to puke, 3) Did I say I was still fucked up?

11am - *cue the victory music* Bathroom is found and I run in that mother fucker like Huessin Bolt running his 40 yard dash. No need to barf, just drop my fucking slacks and drop bombs like it's WWII all over again.

Think of every fucking awful noise you could possibly think of and that was me dropping deuce (I know this is TMI but roll with me here folks). I was wrecking that porcelin god like Dirk Diggler destroying a midget in one of those fetish porno's. "What the fuck?!" I look to my right when I grab for some tp. "That's not what I think it is, is it?!" I take a closer look. "Son of a fucking bitch dude! Son of a fucking bitch dude! That is not what I think it is in the men's bathroom!" Guys, I can't believe I'm writing this now that I think about it...if you haven't figured it out, I'll tell you...

While I'm taking this dump that has made me teary eyed and moan like a drowing tiger, I noticed what I thought I would never see...a fucking tampon dispenser. Read that again. A FUCKING TAMPON DISPENSER! I'm still drunk and taking the most atrocious crap in the woman's restroom right now! I put my hands on my head and start to hear voices. That's right, female voices. Big fucking dilemma! Blowing ass violently in a woman's restroom behind door number 1 (that's right, I took the first fucking stall I saw open), isn't gonna be pleasant for the chick who's waiting. "Deep breaths...finish what you got, wipe and just leave as if you don't see anyone." All I had at this point was to try to talk myself through it. "Why the fuck did I drink all that booze and eat those hot wings and artichoke dip last night?!" Time to finish...

I wipe, tuck in my dress shirt, button up and prepare to face the person who's feet I've been looking at while the fury has been shooting out of my anus for the last 10 minutes. The toilet flushes, the door opens...

In front of me stares a very large black woman who has this look...it's not the type of look you would think...it's so bad, there's not even a word to describe it. It's a look worse than if you were to find out your best friend banged your mom or dad. A look worse than if you found out your friend got off watching donkey shows in Tijuana every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It was a look like if you met Satan in a dark alley with your pants down masturbating with a pickle in your mouth while wearing a gold chain with whipped cream smeared around your nipples. That's the only words I could describe this look. I couldn't look down when I opened that door, something told me to look up and deal with it. "That.Is.Disgusting." She muttered those words and all I could do was give her a blank ass stare with a little side smirk. I ran, ran without washing my hands...ran so fast, hoping no other woman could see me leave.

I got my cherry popped alright. Getting my drink on with actual clients and shitting with furious anger and vengeance while getting caught in the women's fucking restroom. FML!

Bachelor Party Aftermath - 11/15/2009

I was going back through my blog today and came across this entry I had from my buddy's bachelor party awhile back.  It gave me so many flashbacks that I thought I should re-post it....FYI, I was literally hungover for a week after this and didn't talk to any of these guys until the wedding.  Enjoy.   

11/15/2009 - I've had some experiences when I traveled but nothing quite like this. The goal for me on Sunday was to make it to the Raider game and home in one piece. But when you get 14 guys together for a bachelor party at a beach house in San Diego (that started on Thursday, mind you), chances are pretty slim. I'm not gonna lie, I live for this shit! The people that know me, know that THIS GUY loves this type of stuff! But the reality is, I'm 30 now and thinking I'm 21 again is pretty pathetic. From the words of my buddy Jason, "This weekend, I gave everything I had..." and fuck, did I pay for it. Fast forward to Sunday morning 4am.

After drinking for hours on the final day of this bachelor party, my goal was to crash by at least 11pm. I wasn't punking out on the rest of the guys that wanted to party, I was just doing what I thought could get me over the HANGOVER since I had the earliest flight out the next day. You guys need to understand that what I drank and ate for 3 days could kill a mature farm animal. Scary, I know. It's 4am and I wake up with the worst case of the bubble guts and for the next two hours I'd be sitting on the crapper for a 2-3 hour time frame asking God, "Why me?!" I'm tired, shaking and just want to try to shake this feeling off b/c I want to be semi-normal when I board the plane back to Oaktown. But when you realize everything you drank and the last meal you ate consisted of 3 double cheeseburgers, a big mac, extra large fry and a diet coke all under 15 minutes (my friends challenged me so how could I say no, right?), you know shit is gonna get ugly.

I get it together, head to the airport and wait to board my flight. Shit just went downhill from there...

My flights packed and the only available seating are middle seats. By the way, I hate fucking middle seats! At this point, my ass hurts from sitting on the John for hours, I feel like death and I just want to get some shut eye and keep it together. I sit by a 60 year old woman that had a body of a 10 year old girl and a fucking giant that looks like Mark Eaton (if you don't know who he is, google him. he's not pretty!). Not off to a good start. All of the sudden, I get so lucky to have a mom and her 4 year old sit behind me. Lucky me, this kid kicks my seats the whole fucking flight. This isn't helping me from yacking my guts out. Now here comes the kicker...the flight attendant does not only look like the figure skater Scott Hamilton, but the jerkoff is annoying the shit out of me, talks really loud and is wearing a red clown nose like he's fucking Patch Adams (I take one look at him and just think, "Man, this douchebag needs to get laid or something"). My head is steaming and I'm really trying to be cool at this point.

We finally take off and I'm feeling a little whoozy and I'm praying to God that I don't throw up. Not so fast...the drink orders come out and the two sitting in front of me and the woman across the way decide to purchase bloody mary's. I took a wiff of that and shit just got way real. From the bloody mary smell, that little fucking kid kicking my seat and the thought of what I just consumed for the past 3 days, I started to get that pre throw-up drool. If you don't know what that is, it's the shit that taste funny, looks like spit and once released from your mouth, you're fucked - THROW UP CITY! I gotta act fast and gotta act now. At first I looked at the seat back pocket in front of me and noticed that the barf bag they supply wouldn't even hold what I thought was going to project out of my mouth. I get up, and dart for the bathroom. This is the worst part...

I head to the back of the plane and the door's locked. I feel like shit, I want to die and feel like I'm being punished. Literally, 5 minutes later, a huge guy who looked like he could have consumed a 12 year old boy, walks out. I give him the, "Hey buddy, please get out of my way b/c I'm about to use your face as a toilet right now," look. 2 seconds later as I walked in, I realized that this guy took a shit so bad and so foul that it caused me to start projectile vomitting all over the can within seconds. I think I was throwing up so violently that I sounded like a dying sea lion. For a good 10 minutes I was heaving everything I possibly could while at the same time making things worse b/c I couldn't shake off the thought of all the Natty and Keystone Light I drank. I clean up this awful, dreadful lavatory and head back to my seat. The looks I got were not the most amusing but hey, you gotta do what you gotta do right? What a weekend and a story about my hungover ass to start the work week.