Scheme :: Speak :: Stain

01.04 SCHEME

this book will allow you to :: scheme :: be influenced by other people’s most provocative stories :: speak :: air out all of your dirty laundry :: stain :: leave your mark by exploring different possibilities and creating new entertainment

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speak

january 2009 week one

week one

january 2009

Cart Clash

Each person has a shopping list.

The goal is to collect everything

super market check out line. Your

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on the shopping list and get to the

opponent can use his cart to crash into yours and visa versa. If your cart is tipped, you must replace all of the fallen food with new food.

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january 2009 week one

A Splash of Hot Sauce

The blasting music would just not stop. We were at a party, having a pretty fun time. Let’s face it, there were girls there, beer, and plenty of room. Not to mention, the people that owned the home were pretty rich.

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You could walk five steps and there was another leather couch to sit on.

Sweet. The refrigerator was stocked with booze. Everyone was dancing, partying. Tons of people were there.

It was packed. You could only see a couple square feet of green carpeting and that was it.

My buds Sean and Andy were joking with me and laughing.

Something seemed to be going on tonight. There was an extra twinkle in Sean’s eye. Andy looked rather nervous.

They kept on trying to get me to do a stunt that they always did. They just never told me what the stunt was. Sean was always like, “Dude, once you do this I’m telling you, you will be famous around da campus and everything. c’mon.” I had always assumed this was somewhat dangerous...it took tons of risk to get famous at the campus.

This night, after having one too many drinks, I agreed. Andy’s hand slipped a blindfold over my eyes. Oh no, I thought. I could feel Sean’s hand guide me gently by the back, and soon, I remember climb-

Everyone was cheering for me, clapping and wooting. My legs would just not stop shaking. Then, I heard a SCREECH and a blast of fresh air rushed in. Sean’s supportive hand was the only thing keeping me standing on. I breathed in the fresh air.

Suddenly, a jolt pushed me into the air. They must have pushed me out of a window! For a few terrifying seconds, it was a rush of fear, oxygen, and thoughts of certain death.

I flipped and flopped in the air, and I was able to take off my blindfold.

How was this funny?

Then, everthing became silent.

I climbed out of the kiddy pool and realized this was not a kiddy

He must have seen the mess and all of the redness in the hot tub, and must have thought I was dying of major blood loss! He took out his high-tech cell phone and began to dial 911. Luckily though, we were able to convince him that I was ok.

I stood on my feet and did the chicken dance for him, and he wasn’t even angry with the mess, the party, or me! He chuckled and was glad I was ok. He just made us clean the mess and dismissed the party. When I entered the University the next week, he turned out to be my favorite professor.

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I was mortified and pretty pissed off at Sean and Andy. Sean was rolling on the grass laughing so hard no sound came out of his mouth. Andy was bent over looking concerned but still laughing.

Whoever they were, they were going to be pretty angry. Just as my realization came to reality, the tricked out miata pulled into the driveway. A man stepped out, confuzed. His eyes were staring at everyone at the party, and then he saw me.

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I was flying! Flying! Suddenly, I was plunged into a kiddy pool filled with hot sauce. My eyes stung and my mouth was filled with the hottest sauce. It burned like hell just entered my body!. Everyone at the party fled out the front door and helped me out of the hot sauce pool.

pool, but their expensive hot tub.

Someone had dumped at least 150 bottles of tabasco sauce in some person’s hot tub!

january 2009

week one

ing up some stairs.

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january 2009 week two

week two

these girls was totally worth it. The girl I was interested in was blond, moderate chest, great ass, and she was wearing this tight black corset with panty hoes, a choker, and 3 or 4 inch black stilettos. Her friend, who I had met once before, a brunette with a moderate chest, an even more amazing ass, and these hot dark green eyes, was wearing a black satin corset with some red design on it, a thong, and knee high stiletto hooker boots. Her last friend who I had never met, this hot Asian girl, with the greatest ass known to man, was wearing a black leather corset, boy shorts, stilettos and to top it all off a giant pearl necklace. I can tell you that in such good detail because 1) you never forget an image like that and 2) there were about 200,000 photos of them from when they arrived.

At any rate I grabbed a buddy of mine and some drinks and went over to say hello, the blonde who

january 2009

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Eager and Taken Threesome

Ok so OWU is small and frankly pretty shitty, but we did have some wild ass women on the campus. So all in all I considered my time there a win.

One night, the best night of my life actually, everything just went buck wild. We were having a big lingerie party at my fraternity and were inviting all the girls we could find. So in the process I decided to do something I had seriously considered the entire semester, I invited this hot blond from my history class who was more than excited to come. The only downside was she had a boyfriend but low and behold he gets sick and the night of the party she shows up only with her friends.

And it was in that moment I realized why I love theme parties.

I mean sure they are pains in the ass for us guys, really wants to dress up like Huge Heffner all the fucking time, but to see

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january 2009 week two

well call Taken Chick, quickly started flirting with me to my delight. Her brunette friend, who well call Eager Chick, slowly shifted from talking to my friend (who I found out later was basically just babbling about his classes...I was so disappointed with his game) and began to interject herself into our conversation.

It was getting pretty interesting though because as the night progressed it became apparent that she didn’t have a problem with Taken Chick flirting with me, nor did she have a problem flirting with me herself...but she definitely wanted to please whoever she was talking to in particular at any point.

Her Asian friend, who well call Total Slutty Chick, took my friend and started dancing with him but quickly got bored and we lost track of her in the crowd.

So Taken, Eager, and I made our way over to the bar and continued to talk and drink for about an hour and a half until the girls got the idea that they wanted to dance. I asked Taken if she wanted to and she said yes, so we made our way

onto the dance floor and proceeded to grind in the dirtiest way possible.

About five minutes later Eager made her way out onto the dance floor with this kind of hurt look on her face. I was totally expecting her to grab her friend rip her away from me remind her of her boyfriend and then ditch me forever‌ but she didn’t.

Instead she began to grind up against me from behind, and we danced like that for about 15 minutes. At that point Taken and her, who have been holding hands while we danced, slid me to one slide and while dancing with me began to dance with each other. To say I was turned on was the understatement of a lifetime. Slowly I made a move on Taken who happily reciprocated and started to make out with me.

We were interrupted when Eager wrapped her arm around my neck and pulled my head away from Taken and began to kiss me. When the kiss broke, I totally stopped moving looked at the two girls, who looked at each other drunkenly smiled and then looked back

january 2009

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a while after that but some more kissing and foreplay got things going again later and I got to fuck Eager doggie style while she ate out Takenslut. I pounded away in her for about a half hour before she finally started to cum, I came deep inside her and Taken soon followed suit.

After that I was done for the night and passed out. I woke up the next morning with both Taken and Eager; the girls had gotten out of their lingerie at some point and were now wearing old t shirts of mine I guess that had dug out of my closet.

The girls woke up slowly and with a little awkward tension between the two of them at first but pretty quickly they seemed to decide they were cool with it and we laid their talking for about a half hour.

I asked them what happened after they went to bed and they said they just decided to go to sleep to and changed clothes; I was just laying there thinking if all I ever have to do is loose two old t shirts whenever I want a threesome im down!

Anyway the girls seemed pretty cool about what happened but didn’t really want anyone else to know so I agree to take them home one by one in my car (again not a high price to pay for a threesome).

Well I go out to get us some food before they leave and I am not even down the stairs when my friend shouts at me to come over really quick, that “I wont believe what happened last night!” I was stand-

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Pretty soon were in the room and the door is closed. The music from downstairs is loud enough you can hear it clearly so I get them to start dancing again and pretty soon they are making out hardcore. At that point Eager grabs me rips my robe open and pulls me over to them and starts kissing me while she fishes my unit out of my boxers.

When she released me I quickly guided them to the bed and threw them onto it. Making out with Taken I started to use my hands and take her thong off while she played with Eager who was already out of her corset.

About the time Taken came and I moved back slightly and Eager dove down and started sucking my dick like a freaking pro. I quickly stood up and continued to let the girl work her magic, she grabbed Taken by the head and pulled her over to my cock as well and both proceeded to service me.

Being a gentlemen I warned them I was going to cum, at which point Eager says staring up at me “do it on my face!” Well that was all the encouragement I needed and I shot all over her face and then her tits.

While she wiped her face off Taken began to play with my cock and get me hard again.

Pretty soon I was fucking her missionary while Eager got eaten out, when Eager started to cum it sent of this chain reaction as I got off on watching her and then Taken got off from me. We had to rest for

week two

at me. Now being drunk but not retarded I quickly hustled us off to my bedroom which was just up the stairs. The whole way up they are touching me and each other.

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january 2009 week two

ing their thinking “My ass.”

So I go over and he opens our other friend’s bedroom door and their laying on the ground is Total, buck naked. My friend proceeds to tell me that last night she wondered over to this group of guys he was talking to and starts to flirt with all of them, apparently she just had to be the center of attention and when she wasn’t with me she decided to find some other fulfillment.

So she gets this group of guys and takes them up this room, does a strip tease for them and the apparently sucks two guys off at the

same time. I guess a couple guys left for one reason or another and she ended up with four guys in the room (one of which being my friend). And they proceeded to gangbang this girl and as far as we can tell from the video they took (thank god for Sony!) she was always enjoying herself since she kept screaming for more. Cracking up I explain to him what happened to me last night and we both die laughing.

At that point I grab some food and head back to the room where the girls have put their heels back on and their underwear but nothing else. We ate breakfast and I led Taken out to my car and we started to drive over to the dorm. On the way she explained she and her boyfriend were breaking up and she wanted to have some fun that night, and that her only concern was that Eager would make a big fuss over it and cause a bunch of drama. I kind of shrugged it off, pulled up in front of her dorm, made out with her a little and then said goodbye.

When I got back I noticed the door to my friend’s room was shut, I would learn later that Total woke up and they were going at it again.

Eager was waiting when I got back but before we left started questioning my like crazy. She was asking me stuff like did I think she was the best? Or more attractive? She even

week two

january 2009

asked if her pussy as tighter.

Angry People

Walk up to a complete stranger and

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express a viewpoint so ridiculous and distasteful that no on could possible agree with it. See what happens.

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I told her I wasn’t sure, and couldn’t help but think about what Taken had said in the car. The upshot was that as the questioning progressed we started to fool around again and I ended up getting her to blow me again, this time she swallowed the load. After that I took her back to her dorm, made out with her a little, and said goodbye.

Later I would learn that Taken didn’t break up with her boyfriend and last I heard they got engaged.

Eager I found out was just that an eager slut on campus, although her rep was only for sucking cock apparently she rarely fucked around, soon after this I guess she made a bunch of drama about it between her and Taken and they quit hanging out.

Finally Total ended up getting together with some guy we knew, but not my friend who decided she was to dirty to be a girlfriend, probably a smart move as we later found out she had an ecstasy and coke problem (although both were pretty common on campus).

And that pretty much wraps up the best night of my life, one day I’ll make a million dollars, have kids, own my own mansion, become a famous investor and be one cover of Forbes...and that night will still have been the best of my life!

january 2009 week three

You are Royalty

If you are still in school, on the first day of class insist you are royalty.

Have a friend come in and inform the teacher than one’s gaze must never fall upon you, but rather all questions must be addressed to

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stain. speak

your personal listener.

january 2009

week three

speak

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page thriteen

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january 2009 week three

There’s a Fat Guy in the Trunk!

Though this took place about a year ago, I still tell people about it to this day. Some of them believe the entire thing, but other people wonder how my ass was squeezed into the trunk of a Honda Civic and taken to Athens, Ga. I’ll let you come to your own conclusion.

I was working at this shitty BP station not too far from my dormitory (good ol’ Napier Hall). I had to work from 10pm to 3am on a Friday night, and it really sucked balls.

After ringing up people all night, I had to clean up the damn store and then ride back to my dorm on my bike. When I eventually made it back, I was pretty tired and considered going to my room and turning in for the night. Instead, I knocked on the door to 425.

Mark and Aaron were in there, hanging out and watching “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” with some females. I stepped in, took a seat on their futon, and they passed me a full bottle of Bacardi O. I just shrugged my shoulders

and managed to down the entire bottle in about an hour. Mark and Aaron just watched me drink their bottle, without saying a single word to me.

At about 4 in the morning, we decided to take a trip to Athens. We figured if we got there and slept in the car, we could wake up the next day and tailgate with all the fans. So, Mark, Aaron, Steve, Chad, and I walked outside to Steve’s Honda Civic sitting in the parking lot. Thanks to the “O,” I was really plastered, so I don’t remember too much. But, from what the guys told me, this is what happened.

They told me that I might not be able to go because there wasn’t enough room but, I had a moment of enlightenment: “If I sleep in the trunk, can I go?” They couldn’t turn me down on that offer, so I climbed into the trunk of the Honda Civic and managed to make myself comfortable as they closed the trunk on me. After they climbed in and started the car, I

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focus my attention on my blistering hangover and agreed to head to the liquor store to buy a bottle of Mr. Boston’s 100 proof vodka and then proceeded to drink it mixed with Dr. Pepper the rest of the day.

january 2009

about, boy.” He replied.

“This is Milledgeville, isn’t it?”

“No, I’m afraid you’re in Athens.”

I looked around this field filled with trailers, football fans, vehicles, and college students, and suddenly realized that I was NOT in Milledgeville. So, once again I turned to this strange man cooking hamburgers for guidance.

“Well, how the fuck did I get here?”

At that moment, my friend Steve realized that I was up and about, so he jumped out of the driver’s seat of the Honda Civic and walked over to me.

“Hey Wally, let’s go back to the car and hang out.”

“Hey Steve, did you fucking kidnap my ass?”

After everyone else woke up, they explained to me where I was and how I got here. I of course shook my head in denial, refusing to accept the reality of me passing out in a trunk and riding about an hour and a half to Athens, Ga. Still unconvinced, I decided to re-

week three

could tell that we were moving, but then I passed out.

As my eyes slowly opened, I realized that I was in the trunk of a car.

At first, I thought, “Oh shit! I’ve been fuckin kidnapped!” and panicked. Thankfully, the trunk was cracked open a little, so I swung it open and crawled out of my cramped sleeping place, smelling like Bacardi O and spare tires. Since my friends are good guys, before they went to sleep, they decided to leave my legs dangling out the trunk to give me more leg room.

I’m sure it looked pretty funny too.

So, I stood up and looked around at this strange world inhabited by RVs and grills, wondering where the fuck I was.

I came across an old man cooking some hamburgers outside of his RV and walked over to him.

“Excuse me, but could you tell me where Napier Hall is?” I asked with a heavy drunken slur on the tip of my tongue.

“I don’t know what you’re talking

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speak

january 2009 week four

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This is about the wedding of my friend Mike--a big bad badass from Hartford.

The facts: 1. Mike got married in Oklahoma and the reception was at a function hall just outside an AFB near OKC. 2. Mike married, Maria--a Mexican girl.

3. Maria’s entire family showed up at the wedding.

4. My buddy Louie, Mike’s brother, was the best man.

Mike and Louie, like most brothers, regularly jive with each other. And like most brothers, it can occasionally turn physical. The difference here is that Mike and Louie are borderline psychotic.

So during the reception Mike and Louie were joshing--trading insults at the head table. And the head table was about 4 feet up on a sort of raised platform. And at one point, Mike reached around his new bride and chucked Louie in the arm.

Louie laughed, leaned back and punched Mike in HIS arm. And he made sure it was just a bit harder than Mike had punched him. Mike’s laughter lessened considerably.

He reached across the bride and smacked Louie on the side of the head. Then the big smile Louie had been wearing quickly left his face.

Mike stood up.

Louie stood up.

january 2009

Time for another story about the Assumption College Legend: “Louie” (So named, because for some reason he reminded people of the scrappy Red Sox infielder Lou Merloni.)

week four

Lou Goes to a Wedding

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Mike punched Louie in the face.

Louie shook it off and reached WAY back for the roundhouse to end all roundhouses.... ... and the bride stood up.

Louie connected so hard with her head that her lights went out instantly. It was like slow motion. The new bride pitched forward across the food-laden table, which toppled over off the dais and crashed onto the floor. The unconscious bride was out cold in the middle of this huge mess.

And then her entire, enraged nonEnglish-speaking and thus bewildered, family rose up en masse and rushed the stage.

A riot ensued. MPs from the AFB had to come and break it up.

15 years later: Louie and Mike remain tight. He and Maria are still married, and yes, she speaks to Louie.

february 2009

week five

Go to a fashion show and shout out bids as if the models are being auctioned

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Runway Action

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february 2009 week five

Buffalo Jill, the Volleyball Player and Me

It was early first semester of my sophomore year. My roommates and I landed a large dump of an apartment on Main Street in Buffalo. The owner of the pizza place on the first floor offered it to us with a very low rent and security deposit in hopes that his new tenants would fix the place up a bit.

After a thorough cleaning and some fresh paint, we looked to raise some cash by throwing a few keg parties.

Keg parties with themes that, in the early days of desktop publishing, we promoted heavily through the distribution of flyers to multiple colleges throughout the city.

Our first party, titled “The Greatest Party in the World” netted us about $1500.00 in cover charges and shot specials! My roommates and I were beside ourselves. Our second party “Ladies Night” bordered legend.

The line to get into our house was longer than the line to Micky Rats a half block away!

As “Ladies Night” settled down and the crowd started to disperse I saw, huddled in the corner, a bevy of very attractive females. At second glance I saw that they were wearing Buffalo Jill Cheerleader jackets.

HUH? I thought. NFL Professional Cheerleaders in my house, at MY party? I walked on over in a drunken stupor and hit on the hottest one.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m the guy who’s running this party,” I said.

“You’re John Smith?”

“I am. Do I know you?”

“No, I just heard that you throw

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I was “in like Flynn.” But what about Katrin? Sweet Katrin who introduced me to facials and anal sex? Katrin, who cooked my roommates and I dinner and often cleaned the entire apartment while my roommates and I were at the gym or in study sessions. Katrin, who had a car and would take us anywhere we asked. Dear Katrin, who screamed in wild ecstasy while we made sweet love and did my laundry. Athletic, flexible and cute as a button. But, she wasn’t a professional cheerleader!

I wound up hanging with Annie for the remainder of the evening.

I even told her about Katrin. It didn’t seem to matter as the night ended with an innocent drive home to my apartment and a not so innocent goodnight kiss.

“I’d like to take you out,” I said.

“I’d like that,” she responded.

“What are you doing next Friday?”

“Going out with you,” she said.

“But what about Katrin?”

“I’ll do the right thing. She’s a nice girl. She deserves the truth.”

“And what’s the truth?”

“That I wanted to be with you since the first time I met you,” I said.

The next kiss was a lot more passionate. I got the phone number and the address; it was on!

My roommates had grown very fond of Katrin. Not because she was my girlfriend, mind you. She cleaned the house, cooked for us and gave us rides to and from class. Not to mention the bedroom antics which could be heard all

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ties. So much that NFL Cheerleaders were showing up.

I tried my best to sober up and have a civil conversation with Annie, who was in her second year as a cheerleader for the Buffalo Bills (when they were good). It wasn’t going to happen as I probably had about 30 shots and an unforgettable amount of beer.

“Why don’t you look me up when you’re a little more sober?” she said.

“How about your number?” I asked.

“Not this time, John. I’ll see you around.”

As she left I heard an earful from my friends on my inability to close the deal.

Fast forward to late in the second semester. Our house partying days on Main Street were over. We completely fixed up the apartment with new carpeting, furniture, appliances, etc. It was a hell of a bachelor pad that cost the four of us only $400 a month total!

A couple of months earlier I befriended a player on female volleyball team. Katrin was a find. A pretty girl with an amazing sexual prowess (unmatched to this day – god bless her) and an insecure and perhaps unhealthy desire to please her man at all costs.

Things were going well with Katrin until the evening I ran into Annie at the Locker Room – a popular hangout back in the day. It was early in the evening and I was completely coherent. Smooth in my delivery. Charming, in fact.

Her friends were even on my side.

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great house parties.”

I was taken aback. My name was circulating around the city as THE guy who throws mean house par-

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february 2009 week five

Katrin and I hung out most since she worked on Friday nights and I worked on Saturdays.

“Let’s just go out one more time,” she said.

“I don’t think that that is such a good idea,” I said.

“Please, I’ve had so much fun with you these past few months. Don’t I deserve one more night out with you?”

I could tell she had an agenda.

And she did. She was looking to screw me into submission – as she explained to a mutual friend.

She seriously felt that she could make me forget about my fantasy cheerleader.

But the night was pretty lame. My buddies were ribbing me, Katrin was groping and grabbing me – it didn’t feel right knowing that my mind was set. I was going to be with that cheerleader and that was final.

“I want to go,” I said to her. “This isn’t right.”

“I’ll take you home,” she said.

“That’s ok. I’ll get a ride.”

“No, I’ll take you.”

I caved in. Big mistake. throughout the house. They were, as described by my one roommate, “Jerk Worthy.” A compliment.

“You don’t have to tell her right now,” Marc, my roommate and best friend, told me. “Just give it a week.

I don’t have any money for the subway.” He was serious.

I kept from telling her, having avoided her sexual advances all week out of complete respect, until that Thursday afternoon. She was upset but, get this, said that she appreciated my honesty.

Now, as everyone knows, Thursday’s are a big night out in most all college towns. It just so happens that Thursday’s were the night that

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boy, was the infamous official pink Buffalo Jills Cheerleading Jacket.

Standing in front of my sink, washing my dishes (Katrin hadn’t gotten to them yet) and talking to my roommate Sam, who didn’t go out that evening, was Annie.

HOOOOOLEEEEEE SHIT, I thought.

Annie turned around. Looked at me, looked at Katrin, looked back at me and then, in the best “Fuck you, I’m Not Leaving,” move – turned around and continued washing the dishes.

My roommate looked at me like “What’s next?” He couldn’t wait to see what would develop.

I turned to Katrin.

“You should go,” I said.

“Yeah, I probably should,” she said sadly.

And she left.

Annie gave me a little bit of shit.

Fortunately, my roommate backed up my story before I even got there.

He told her that I was out breaking things off as she washed the dishes.

After telling her that this was the big break up and she was only

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We drove back to the apartment in an uncomfortable silence. As we approached my place, Katrin started to search for a parking spot – I looked at my front door quickly recognizing an incredibly hot, six foot tall dirty blonde beauty ringing my doorbell.

HOLY SHIT, I thought.

“Katrin, let’s go somewhere and talk. Somewhere… else.”

“Ok,” she said. She drove off to a nearby park where I stood my ground and insisted that she leave me so I may pursue my guilty pleasure of banging a professional cheerleader.

“John,” she said, “I’ll let you go but only after one more night with me.”

Now, honestly, I tried to get out of it. I really did. But, like a complete lug I, again, caved in. We headed back to my place. Now, at least an hour went by, if not longer. Surely Annie had left knowing that I wasn’t home.

As Katrin and I walked up the steps to my apartment I nearly threw up when I noticed, drawn over the back of our living room lazy

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february 2009 week five

coming up to get her things from my room. She settled down laying down the ground rules that she will not be a guy’s “other girl.”

Annie left about an hour later letting me know that she looked forward to Friday night.

My date with Annie was great. She was a really beautiful girl with a good sense of humor. I felt little, if any, guilt in the way I honestly broke things off with Katrin – and, outside of not telling Annie that I was bringing Katrin up to my apartment the night before to have some of the raunchiest sex ever, I was mostly honest with Annie from the beginning.

We got back to my apartment and I invited Annie up. She accepted and we made our way up the stairs. As I turned the corner of the stairwell I noticed, there, on the couch, was Katrin!

The same roommate from the night before let her in – Sam, you fucking prick! What was he trying to do to me?

“Dude,” he said, “she stopped by looking for a shoulder to cry on. I

couldn’t get her to leave.”

Annie looked disgusted.

“I’ll be in your room while you take care of this,” she said. She marched into my room located right next to the living room.

“Katrin, what are you doing here?” I asked.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Well, now is not a good time.”

“John, just let me stay here on the couch. You go do what you feel you need to do with her and, if it’s any better than me, I’ll leave.”

No shit. That’s what she said, verbatim.

I told her to go home and went into my room.

Annie and I made love for hours that night with Katrin sitting on my living room couch. My roommate emerged from his bedroom to find Katrin.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked.

“I have no where to be. I really want to talk to John,” she said.

“He’s not thinking straight.”

“Not thinking straight?!?!” my roommate shot back at her. He

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manded.

“Katrin, what are you doing?”

She continued to push me towards my bedroom. Pushing me into the room she closed the door, pulled down my sweatpants and started to lick my member.

“Would she even think about doing this to you?” She licked again and then looked back up at me.

“Would she lick another girl off of your cock?”

NO! I thought. I totally caved in, yet again, letting her go completely nasty on me. It was, without a doubt, the most amazing sex I ever participated in. Unmatched to this day (and a HUGE apology to my wife here but it’s the truth).

Katrin and I were over after that.

She got her one last roll in the hay and I got a pretty amazing story.

And though she was better than Annie in the sack, I stayed with the Buffalo Jill long enough to go to Super Bowl XXVI in Minneapolis.

My roommates, some 15 years later, still bring up this story every time I visit Buffalo.

february 2009

I walked her to her car and went back to my room to catch a quick nap before going to work myself.

When I got to the top of the stairs, there was Katrin. I had no idea that she was still there.

“So how was it?” she asked.

“Katrin, why are you here?”

“How was it?” she asked again.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Was she as good as me?”

“Katrin, you should go.”

“Was she as good as me?”

She started to walk me towards my bedroom.

“Answer the question,” she de-

week five

picked up the remote and muted the TV. “Listen to that! They’re not playing cards in there!”

After realizing that he was fighting a losing battle, he went to bed leaving Katrin on the couch basking in the glowing blue light of our TV. Annie was great. Not half as erotic or adventurous as Katrin, I admit, but simply amazing to look at. She had an appearance early the next morning, a grand opening of some auto dealership, so she got up around 5:30AM to go home and get ready.

february 2009 week five Stripper Change

Go to a strip club. Proceed to ask a stripper if she can make change for

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stain

a dollar.

february 2009

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10 p.m. on a dark, cold night. All is quiet on campus, the chilling calm broken only by the exhausted gasps and mad shrieks of two college girls dragging an abandoned Pepsi refrigerator across a shattered asphalt bike-path.

Why are they doing this? You might ask, What could possess these deranged coeds to lug a--most likely broken--mini-fridge heavier than either of them across a shadowy college campus in the dead of night as if the thing were a god to be carried upon a litter of sunshine and

week six

The Pepsi Fridge

soda bottles, a wrathful god who deserved the complete worship and servitude of the girls who bore him hence?

Nothing. Nothing could have made them do this ... except for their previous consumption of an unusual amount of chocolate cake and a retained giddiness from just finishing another deliciously sardonic episode of House.

Earlier on that fateful Tuesday, one of the aforementioned girls-me, actually--happened upon a strange and vaguely holy sight: dirty, forlorn, and covered in spider-webs, a Pepsi fridge. Sure it was filthy, sure it was surrounded by dumpsters and the sad remnants of ravaged PVC pipes, but I knew from that moment that it was destined to be ours.

Later that evening I launched a proposal to my roommates and one of them, a Bio Major and aspiring petty thief (who had previously pilfered only the likes of traffic cones and wet paint signs) agreed to aid me in my quest.

Hopped up on sugar and the dry wit of a snarky television doctor, we were off.

The fridge was exactly where it had been when I’d first seen it, glistening and beautiful in the stadium lights of the nearby baseball field, like a glorious pillar

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february 2009 week six

of radiance and lost memories of many a bottle of carbonated sugarwater. We held our breath in awe, running our hands over the grimy surface and testing its weight with our shoulders.

This is where we met our first problem. It was heavier than I’d predicted.

Turning and dragging, dragging and turning, we hauled the resplendent cooling machine inch by grinding inch across the jagged expanse of worn trail. We made little progress and were beginning to feel the edges of despair.

But then, my brilliant roommate hatched a plan. Placing two scraps of PVC pipe under the fridge, we were able to roll it for short distances at a time before the pipes became dislodged and had to be replaced. Our progress had improved, but the going was slow and our arms were aching from the strain after only a few minutes.

The one, the only: Pepsi Fridge.

After about a quarter hour we realized that this was not a task we could complete unaided. But then, out of the frigid gloom, two bicyclists rode toward us like shining knights on horses of aluminum and rubber.

They shall be lovingly called from this point on: Guy #1 and Guy #2 These complete strangers parked their bikes and, out of the goodness of their hearts, helped us push the coveted fridge along the pipes. After a while, we decided to try carrying it, since the added strength of Guys #1 and 2 allowed

us to lift it.

Heartened now, as our progress had improved dramatically, the four of us panted and grunted through the dark quarters that surrounded the dorms. At one point, more than halfway to our destination, we paused briefly to readjust grips and to catch our collective breath. During this brief break in our divine labor, I spied another potential candidate to aid us in our crusade for awesomeness and defunct appliances. He rode his skateboard toward us as I waved my hands at him frantically, inviting him to join. After scarcely a moment’s hesitation he tossed his board dramatically onto the grass and became Guy #3.

Now with Guy #3, the five of us made great time. Like a 10-legged, rectangular bringer of joy we scuffled and scurried for several more minutes until Guy #3 hatched a truly magnificent idea. He ran back and retrieved his skateboard and within minutes we had our god on wheels. ON WHEELS! Oh, how we flew after that happy flash of brilliance! We sped through the dorms, the taste of sweet, sweet victory flavoring the night air.

We were invincible!

We were amazing!

We only got about ten yards before the cops showed up.

The officer stopped us and asked us several justified questions such as: “What are you doing?” and “Where’d you get the fridge?”

Feeling it was my sacred duty, I explained that the fridge had been

scheme page twenty eight

night still wide-eyed and jumpy like a cocaine-snorting hamster with ADD. Guys #1 and 2 stayed long enough for us to thank them grandly.

At this time, Officer Cop was joined by Officer Sergeant, but no other action was taken against our nearly-completed quest. They conversed for a moment, then bid us a vaguely confused adieu.

Task done and dream achieved, I stepped into my dorm and closed the door behind me. My glazed eyes looked upon the blue, white, and red refrigerator as one would look upon the Northern Lights, or a newborn child, or a fleet of ninjas rescuing a puppy from a pit of liquid hot magma.

A moment later, I was on the floor in giggling hysterics.

The Pepsi Fridge now holds a place of honor in the dining area where we may gaze adoringly at its magnificence while we eat our breakfast cereal, always remembering that glorious night when we were pulled over for rolling a broken refrigerator through the dorm on a skateboard on a cold, cold Tuesday night.

february 2009

week six

tossed out, abandoned in the cold with not so much as an empty Pepsi bottle to keep it company.

Not in those words, exactly, but he was more-or-less satisfied with my answers. That is, you see, until Guy #3 started wigging out.

Now, Guys #1-3 were all strangers to my roommate and me. Guys #1 and 2 seemed nice enough, and so did Guy #3, but something about being near a man in blue scared him. Badly. Guy #3 danced from foot to foot nervously as if his bladder were in dire need of an evacuation, mumbling something about needing to be somewhere and just generally failing miserably to keep his cool. I honestly think that the officer would have left us to our own devices if Guy #3’s palpable discomfort and mild terror hadn’t been so blatant.

Reading him like a book as cops are trained to do, Officer Cop asked for his ID and called it in.

“Great” I thought to myself, “Just watch, he’s wanted for grand theft auto or poking kittens with sticks or something and the rest of us are gonna get in trouble for it.”

Luckily, Guy #3’s ID came back clean, but Officer Cop was still wary of our endeavor and insisted on walking us to our dorm, wherein he also insisted to get some ID information from my roommate should the Pepsi fridge be reported stolen at a later date.

We got the fridge inside and Guy #3 retrieved his skateboard.

Without even a backward glance he was gone, disappearing into the

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speak

february 2009 week six

Gaze at everyone wondering

february 2009

week six

Love Day

whether they might be the love of your life, the one destined for you and you alone, and whether you might be passing them by forever. Act in consequence.

speak.stain page thirty

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speak

february 2009 week seven

week seven page thrity two

Marcos was for spending nearly 80 bucks on a fake pussy when he could have gone to Hell’s Kitchen with 80 bucks and bought the real thing.

Then, two weeks later…

I’m in this medical building getting some dental work done when I see Marcos coming out of the free clinic. He pretended like he was just there to pick up some free condoms but I got the real story three days later from one of his roommates. Somebody had put a rope around the Jenna mold and hung it up in the bathroom to freak people out but apparently Marcos had been taking

speak.scheme

Some buddies of mine who all lived together in a Manhattan apartment invited me to a tattoo party in the West Village. After we got tatted we walked around the Village and came upon a world famous sex shop near West 4th Street. Two of the guys were fascinated by these foam rubber molds of porn queen Jennifer Jameson’s vagina and anus.

Marcos insisted on buying it.

The box claimed the molds to be “life-like in every detail” and to be honest, it did kind of feel real when you touched it. Kendall just kept sticking his fingers in it and saying what a desperate asshole

february 2009

Jenna Gives the Clap

page thirty three

scheme.stain

february 2009 week seven

Throw It Away

showers with it and screwing it in the shower. Then, Kendall started doing the same thing.

Well they had this big Super Bowl party at their house and there were guys from all over the city there.

Every other guy commented on the Jenna mold, it really got a lot of attention that night according to one of the roommates.

Marcos was drunk and bragging about how he screws the thing all the time. He noticed guys were staying in the bathroom forever that night. At one point this roommate even joked out loud that they must have sneaked a chick in there.

Three weeks later Marcos, Kendall and four other guys that attended that Super Bowl party got the Clap from the Jenna mold. She burned two-thirds of the guys who attended that party. TRUE STORY! We’ve all graduated now and are doing well but those two have yet to live that incident down.

Throw away something you love.

Can you do it?

february 2009

week eight

speak

page thrty four

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scheme

february 2009 week eight

It was a late afternoon ride home from college that weekend and James was excited to see his family and his girlfriend. His first stop was at home, where he was fed a wonderful, home-cooked pasta dish of Trio Italiano, with rigatoni, shells, and ziti. He ate two platefuls and enjoyed every bite. It was a far cry the slop they served at school.

He spoke with his parents, updating them about his life at his home away from home. When the inevitable prolonged silence consumed the conversation, he knew it was time to head over to his girlfriend’s apartment.

He arrived feeling a little bloated from his supper, but he just dismissed the feeling as excited anxiousness over seeing Jessica.

He arrived at her door and she opened it and immediately kissed him warmly. Then they went into the bedroom to chat and watch a movie. Once they got into the movie, it became quiet. However, James’s stomach was boisterous and James knew why. Most Italian food makes him gaseous, but the Trio Italiano made him three times as gassy. He held in his flatulence until finally Jessica took a bathroom break.

While she was using the facilities, James released some of the loudest, juiciest, most relieving farts he had ever passed. He finished the nearly five-minute long strain of gas just in time for Jessica’s return. Happy to have slipped that out in her absence and feeling refreshed, they continued the movie.

After the movie, the two lovers did what most couples do and fooled around some. Jessica kissed James deeply and he kindly reciprocated.

Once they got into the kissing, clothing started to come off. James removed Jessica’s shirt and bra and took off his own shirt as they got under the covers. There, after some more heavy petting, Jessica unzipped and pulled off James’s pants. It was at this point when James helped her out, tugging his pants off his body from around his ankles. Then, at her tugging request, he took off his boxers.

In the process, James could have

week eight

february 2009

He put on the soaked boxers for the walk back to the bedroom and quickly removed them once he had returned to the safety of the Jessica’s room. He got back in bed, still making sure not to wake up Jessica, and feel asleep, happy that he got out of another close call without incident.

scheme page thrty six

sworn he felt some kind of dampness on the back of the underwear, but he figured it was his imagination and soon forgot about it.

Jessica ran her hands over James’s body. Making sure to touch every part of him, she started at his feet and worked her way up his legs.

After caressing his buttocks, she continued to the top of his head before working her way back down. It was around this time when James started to smell something peculiar. Again, he passed it off as his imagination and proceeded with the foreplay. He got on top of her and kissed her from above and then they rolled over so that Jessica was on top.

About an hour later, Jessica got tired and fell asleep in the buff, as usual. James, who could never sleep with anything in his bladder, went to empty it. Out of modesty and fear of being seen by one of Jessica’s roommates, James put on his boxers and went to the bathroom. Once there, he relieved himself but again noticed the odd smell. He pulled his boxers down only to find one of the biggest, nastiest, wettest, and most vulgar skid marks he had ever seen. This sort of thing had happened to James maybe two or three times in his life, but never had it been this bad. He remembered his farting spell earlier and attributed the mark to it. Remaining calm, James finished urinating and took off his boxers. He filled the sink with water, soaked them, rinsed them, and repeated the process

three more times. Rightfully feeling unclean, James then continually cleaned himself with soapy toilet paper and water. He didn’t want to turn on the shower for fear of waking Jessica. The faucet was loud enough and he hoped no one could hear how much water he was using.

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february 2009 week eight

After three hours of sleep, James awakened again with a quasi-filled bladder. Putting on his by-then dry boxers, James returned to the bathroom, again feeling unclean and smelling something funky. He looked right at his boxers to see that, although faded, the mark was still present. He repeated the same procedures as before, soaking and rinsing his boxers while cleaning himself up. More fearful and less confident, James tiptoed back into Jessica’s bedroom and took off the soaked boxers, this time placing them in his pant leg so that no one would know where they were. As he stepped back into bed, Jessica rolled over and asked him for his boxers-she preferred to wear his clothing to the bathroom since her panties were uncomfortable. He said he didn’t know where they were. Her eyes opened some more as he realized his mistake.

“Didn’t you just go to the bathroom?” she asked.

“Uh...yeah,” he responded.

“Well, what did you wear to get there?” she continued her inquisition.

“My boxers,” the helpless James replied.

“So where are they?” Jessica asked, dropping the big question on James.

“Uh...I think I threw them under your bed by accident. Here, take these,” James quickly retorted as he pegged Jessica with her panties.

Jessica sighed, rolled her eyes, and went to the bathroom. While there, James too let out a sigh, his of relief. Never in his life had he had such an anxiety-filled night.

As he thought this, he realized how the worse was yet to come.

week nine

march 2009

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27

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1

Stand in an elevator with your friend. Pick a number that you think the next passenger will press.

If you are wrong, take an article of clothing off and if you are right, put one back on. Take turns predicting.

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Press My Button

stain.speak

25

march 2009 week nine page thirty nine

scheme

Her Father, My Problem

“Look man, I’m probably not the guy who’s going to be marrying your daughter,” I say to her dad as he’s pushing me out the front door of the house. “So let’s not worry about me, okay?”

I’m soaking wet and my watch and cell phone are ruined. When he throws my sopping shorts at me they slap around the back of my neck and I turn around and can see her standing behind him next to the banister of the staircase, dripping all over the hardwood floors.

She looks kind of sorry, and when I see that I just start laughing.

“This whole thing is a fucking joke, you know that?” I say to her or her dad or maybe both, as he stands there with his tanned arms folded across his chest. Between his bald head and his polo shirt, his reading glasses and his penny loafers, I think this is just about as perfect as it can get when you’re being thrown out of a guy’s house for banging his daughter in their hot tub.

As soon I get to my car and throw my shorts and towel in the trunk, an empty beer bottle explodes on one of my hubcaps and sprays glass

across my naked legs and feet.

“Jesus Christ!”

I yell and yank the driver’s side door shut just as another one smashes against my side view mirror, knocking it off.

“You fucking little punk!” He’s yelling now, coming off the back porch and striding across the gravel toward my car with another Corona Light raised in the air. The only thing I remember thinking is I can’t believe it took him this long to find the empties stashed in the fake plants.

Just as I peel out and my tires leave a dust cloud between me and the old man, I can hear her little sister calling her a whore through an open bedroom window. But right after that it’s just the sound of the speakers popping on and whatever radio station I’d been listening to an hour earlier when I’d pulled up to the house that I figured would be empty.

I’d met Debbie at a wedding actually. We both worked for the catering service that was hosting it and it was only my third day on the job during my second summer home from college.

“God I need to get laid,” she said to me as we watched the new bride and groom kissing at the center table to the soundtrack of a thousand spoons clinking on wine glasses. I’m sure it’s not exactly the first thing she said to me, but for the sake of the story I’m going to go ahead and say it was.

Joking around I tell her “Well shit, I’d love to help.”

march 2009

stain.speak page forty

“He fucking hit me!” I scream into the phone as I try desperately to

put on my seatbelt before he can do it again. Somewhere on the other end of the phone I hear her say “Dad, stop,” before I snap it closed and throw it back on the seat.

At sixty miles an hour the little hedge brushes of suburbia look like the great wall of China and the mailboxes seem like little white gloved hands reaching out as if to say “Hey, whoa, slow it down,” like all those yard raking yups on any cookie cutter street.

All the roads are named after things they’ve long since replaced.

Brookside, Green Grove, Garden Circle. With my windows down and the air smelling like cut grass and those flowers I can never remember the name of, I try to get as much distance between my Honda and the psychotic in the sedan behind me as I can.

On the floorboard now, my phone is vibrating and lighting up. I press the accelerator and grind my teeth.

Across a small bridge and through what looks like an apple orchard, the houses on the sides of the road start getting further and further apart. I have no idea where we are anymore and I’m only on a quarter tank of gas. Behind me they’re getting closer and closer and I have to jerk into the opposite lane every time I think he’s going to go for another tap-tap.

If this were a movie this would be the part where my tire blows out and I go spinning off into a ditch.

Instead it’s not the tire it’s the alternator belt that I should have replaced three weeks ago.

week nine

“Well, you’re going to need my number then aren’t you?” She asks and six hours later I’m undoing her bikini top in the swimming pool behind her house.

She’s 18 and going into her first year of college in the fall. I’m 21 and have been in college for two years already, but when she makes me meet her mom at the front door I lie and say I go to one of the bullshit schools around the area.

I can’t believe she took me to her house when her parents are home but I figure this is the sort of girl who does this sort of thing fairly regularly anyway. And besides, she said she listens to Techno. And her screen name is Raverchick69.

I’m hooking up with a girl whose screen name is Raverchick69.

I’m pretty sure I was thinking that exact same thing the moment her dad bursts in through the steamed up sliding glass doors and turns on the flood lights just as I’m about to fill up her up from behind.

Next thing I know I’m tearing out of the cul-de-sac with Radiohead singing a song called “Creep” at top volume. I know it sounds like it should be fitting, but give me a break.

She WOULD live in a place like this.

I start to wonder what her dad does for living just as he bumps me for the first time sending me knocking into the steering wheel.

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march 2009 week nine

Her dad bursts in through the steamed up sliding glass doors and turns on the flood lights just as I’m about to fill up her up from behind.

And I don’t go spinning off into a ditch, instead I just lose power and the seatbelt locks up, the steering column goes stiff and my lights shut off.

Believe me, when the car stopped rolling and sputtered out on the side of the road just under a big blue water tower with some town’s name on it that I’ve never been to, I did think of running.

But what the fuck, right?

Instead I just sat there in the driver’s seat, hair still wet, my shirt off and in a pair of wet gym shorts with blood caked all over my toenails.

Later on I’d tell everybody I sat there with a smile on my face and said, “Is there a problem officer?”

When her bald dad stepped up to the open window and yanked my door open. The funny thing is I didn’t say a word.

Even as he tried to pull me out of the car, the seatbelt was still locked up and holding me tight against the seat while he grunted and bathed my face in hot spit.

By the time Debbie reached the car he’d already stopped and was sitting down on the pavement with his hands pressed against his head and kind of rocking back and forth.

Debbie had on a gray long sleeve shirt that was way too big for her and as she came up to the car she said “Dad?” I still didn’t say a thing.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Her father said and looked at me and then at her. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

The man looked honestly like a deflated inner tube. When I’d last saw him in the doorway or running after me with the beer bottles I’d thought he looked like a fit muscular kind of guy. A guy who might be able to belt the shit out of some little fucker he caught playing roll the bat with his daughter in their Jacuzzi. Now it seemed like he was just a pile of clothes.

I decided it was my cue to get out of the car when he first started crying.

I’d like to say I just stepped over him, walked passed Debbie without looking at her and went around to the back of my car to inspect the damage. What I really did was just get out and say “Um…. sir?” like a dip shit.

“I told you he just wanted to talk to you,” Debbie said pulling one of her massive sleeves up to her mouth and chewing on it. I stood there dripping onto the hot summer asphalt.

I looked at his sedan, the steam from the engine rising though the headlights. I looked up and down the empty road, nothing but white reflector paint rolling for what seemed like miles. The water tower with the town name stenciled on it, untouched by the adolescence of graffiti. The man sat there on the ground with his head in his hands,

march 2009

scheme page forty two

his sun burned neck throbbing a bit, veins getting all thick in places as he kind of choked out a couple covered up sobs.

And in the middle of this Debbie was looking at me like it was my fault.

Her father took his hands from his face and looked up at me standing near my open door. For some reason I checked to see if maybe I had a hard on, it’s just kind of instinct when you’re wearing nothing but gym shorts. I’d like to say I did, it sure would have been a sight, standing over him like that, my raised up mesh shorts poking out at perfect attention, sticking a bone right at his nose.

“She’s not just some slut,” he said.

“Okay.”

Debbie spun around and started walking in a circle. “Dad…” she started to say and he waved her off and started to stand up. I backed up a bit, I admit it. I tightened my grip on my keys, sure I did.

He was taller than me and I felt uncomfortable there, wet, half naked and no hair gel.

“You can’t just…She’s my fucking daughter,” he said and looked off down the road into nothing. I looked with him and didn’t see the blazing comet trails or the fireflies that should have been there. It was

I didn’t feel all that good about it either, but seriously what the hell.

It seemed like hours until he finally spoke again.

“My name’s Dan,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and sticking the other out toward me. He was still looking off down the road at the small little twinkling dots of houses way off in the hilly distance.

week nine

just dark mid summer, barley a breeze. I’d be lying if I said I even remembered hearing crickets.

Debbie walked around to her dad’s car and got in. I didn’t look but could hear the door slam and see her shadow in the headlights. It’s probably safe to say I was the only one not crying there at three o’clock in the morning in the middle of nowhere. It’s probably safe to say

march 2009 week nine

scheme page forty three

I looked at the hand stretched out to meet mine. The wedding band, the wrist watch. I looked at my own and wondered when it is that you can look down at your hand and say it looks like an adult’s. I still feel like I have kid hands and I almost feel guilty when I let him take it in his and we both grip and shake. One pump and it’s over. He wipes his hand on the thigh of his khakis.

“Sorry,” I say.

“Ya.” “Boston?”

“Pardon?”

“My dad, he’s from Boston, he…

Never mind.”

“No, I’m actually from right outside Boston actually, where did he go to school?”

“Salem State.”

“Ahh…” he said and looked at me I think for the first time. I mean really looked at me not just as a target for a Corona bottle or a bumper car.

“MIT,” he said and smiled.

“Nice,” I said, but I would have pegged him for some place else, I don’t know why.

The smile didn’t last long, half a second maybe, and now I wonder if it was really there at all or if I made it up. Neither of us said anything else. He ground his loafers into the small pebbles in the side of the road and twisted his neck around in a circle like he was stretching.

Even though it was August I swear I felt cold. I shook my hair with my hand and tried to pick the dried blood off my foot with my other toe. I caught him looking.

“I’m uh, I’m sorry too,” he said still looking down at the dark flecks

on my white, white toes.

“No,” I started to say and then we both started talking at once. “I was -- ” “No, nope, look, don’t -- ” “I--” “Aaaaggghh…” he said and put both fingers in his ears and shook his head. “Enough. Enough.”

“Stay right there,” he said and I watched him disappear through the headlights and go in his car.

When he does I can hear Debbie say something and him say something and they sound like their arguing but in whispers. I really do feel cold and I almost think of just jumping back in the car until I remember that it’s fucked.

When David comes back he’s got a big tan sweater. “Put this on, will ya.”

It’s going to hang down to about my knees but I do it. He points to the hood where there’s little trails of white smoke still puffing up in anticlimactic strings.

“Alternator,” I say. He nods.

“We should probably get you home,” he says but doesn’t look at me. I pray for a UFO to land on the nearest telephone pole and get me the fuck out of here, but I just reach in and grab my cell phone off the floor of the Honda and shut the door.

“I’ll have it towed to the house,” Dan says and for some reason I feel like I better not say thank you.

In the car Debbie is sitting in the back so I’m forced to sit up front.

The whole ride no one talks, and it’s just the soft volume of a Lite Rock radio station and the tires on the smooth summer road.

I stare at the rear view mirror until

Put these combinations in your cart

1. Astroglide, a rotten squash, and a romance novel 2. Condoms, candy, and a children’s

march 2009

to pique the cashier’s curiosity:

week nine

Checkout Trouble

magazine

scheme .stain page forty four

I catch her eye and when I do I hold onto it. It could have been miles of us just looking at each other with the emotion of the Dead Sea. When her dad notices he just turns up the radio and stares at the road.

When we pull into the driveway her mother and her little sister are sitting on the frost steps and both get up and the mother grabs the sister’s arm.

Underneath the car is the sound of tires crushing glass against gravel and when I hear it I swear that’s when I see just the smallest smile on her face in the mirror. I won’t say it was there, but I’ll say I think I really did see it.

And when I look at the old man, I swear I see something just as close.

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scheme

march 2009 week ten

Messy Sheets Quandary Part 1

scheme page forty six

they got into the kissing, clothing started to come off. James removed Jessica’s shirt and bra and took off his own shirt as they got under the covers. There, after some more heavy petting, Jessica unzipped and pulled off James’s pants. It was at this point when James helped her out, tugging his pants off his body from around his ankles. Then, at her tugging request, he took off his boxers. In the process, James could have sworn he felt some kind of dampness on the back of the underwear, but he figured it was his imagination and soon forgot about it.

Jessica ran her hands over James’s body. Making sure to touch every part of him, she started at his feet and worked her way up his legs.

After caressing his buttocks, she continued to the top of his head before working her way back down.

It was around this time when James started to smell something peculiar. Again, he passed it off as his imagination and proceeded with the foreplay. He got on top of

march 2009

from his supper, but he just dismissed the feeling as excited anxiousness over seeing Jessica.

He arrived at her door and she opened it and immediately kissed him warmly. Then they went into the bedroom to chat and watch a movie. Once they got into the movie, it became quiet. However, James’s stomach was boisterous and James knew why. Most Italian food makes him gaseous, but the Trio Italiano made him three times as gassy. He held in his flatulence until finally Jessica took a bathroom break.

While she was using the facilities, James released some of the loudest, juiciest, most relieving farts he had ever passed. He finished the nearly five-minute long strain of gas just in time for Jessica’s return.

Happy to have slipped that out in her absence and feeling refreshed, they continued the movie. After the movie, the two lovers did what most couples do and fooled around some. Jessica kissed James deeply and he kindly reciprocated. Once

week ten

It was a late afternoon ride home from college that weekend and James was excited to see his family and his girlfriend. His first stop was at home, where he was fed a wonderful, home-cooked pasta dish of Trio Italiano, with rigatoni, shells, and ziti. He ate two platefuls and enjoyed every bite. It was a far cry the slop they served at school.

He spoke with his parents, updating them about his life at his home away from home. When the inevitable prolonged silence consumed the conversation, he knew it was time to head over to his girlfriend’s apartment.

He arrived feeling a little bloated

march 2009 week ten

scheme page forty seven

her and kissed her from above and then they rolled over so that Jessica was on top.

About an hour later, Jessica got tired and fell asleep in the buff, as usual. James, who could never sleep with anything in his bladder, went to empty it. Out of modesty and fear of being seen by one of Jessica’s roommates, James put on his boxers and went to the bathroom. Once there, he relieved himself but again noticed the odd smell. He pulled his boxers down only to find one of the biggest, nastiest, wettest, and most vulgar skid marks he had ever seen.

This sort of thing had happened to James maybe two or three times in his life, but never had it been this bad. He remembered his farting spell earlier and attributed the mark to it. Remaining calm, James finished urinating and took off his

boxers. He filled the sink with water, soaked them, rinsed them, and repeated the process three more times. Rightfully feeling unclean, James then continually cleaned himself with soapy toilet paper and water. He didn’t want to turn on the shower for fear of waking Jessica. The faucet was loud enough and he hoped no one could hear how much water he was using.

He put on the soaked boxers for the walk back to the bedroom and quickly removed them once he had returned to the safety of the Jessica’s room. He got back in bed, still making sure not to wake up Jessica, and feel asleep, happy that he got out of another close call without incident.

After three hours of sleep, James awakened again with a

week ten

as he realized his mistake.

“Didn’t you just go to the bathroom?” she asked.

“Uh...yeah,” he responded.

“Well, what did you wear to get there?” she continued her inquisition.

“My boxers,” the helpless James replied.

“So where are they?” Jessica asked, dropping the big question on James.

“Uh...I think I threw them under your bed by accident. Here, take these,” James quickly retorted as he pegged Jessica with her panties. Jessica sighed, rolled her eyes, and went to the bathroom. While there, James too let out a sigh, his of relief. Never in his life had he had such an anxiety-filled night.

As he thought this, he realized how the worse was yet to come.

march 2009

quasi-filled bladder. Putting on his by-then dry boxers, James returned to the bathroom, again feeling unclean and smelling something funky. He looked right at his boxers to see that, although faded, the mark was still present.

He repeated the same procedures as before, soaking and rinsing his boxers while cleaning himself up.

More fearful and less confident, James tiptoed back into Jessica’s bedroom and took off the soaked boxers, this time placing them in his pant leg so that no one would know where they were. As he stepped back into bed, Jessica rolled over and asked him for his boxers--she preferred to wear his clothing to the bathroom since her panties were uncomfortable. He said he didn’t know where they were. Her eyes opened some more

scheme .stain

At a fine restaurant try paying the bill with your blood type card.

When they return it smile, say ‘my mistake’ and replace with another type of card, like your AAA. Continue a few more times.

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Card Confusion

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speaK

march 2009 week eleven

scheme page fifty

So, I move some ceiling tiles and tie her hands above her head using the girders. Her ass is about a foot off the bed and she’s got her arms straight up in the air. I put a gag in her mouth, and then wrote “DEAD BITCH” on her chest and “COCKSUCKER” on her back with green permanent marker. I tied up her huge tits and put clothespins on her nipples. (Yes, this was all part of her insane fantasy and she basically told me exactly what I was to do before we even began. It was like a dominatrix who wanted to be the slave, but still gave instructions! I like a little light bondage, but even though this was way out of my freak-league, I enjoyed the pure lunacy of it.) Then she had me stick a vibrating egg in her pussy and set it on a very slow pulse.

Then, I put a gag on her and tell her to wait till I get back. I went to the basement to get ice because she wanted a cube shoved up her ass.

Halfway back, the fire alarm goes off. I run back to my room and the RA is about to unlock my door to do a bed check. I tell the RA that I’m already out, but I forgot to grab something. He tells me I can’t go back into my room because of the fire alarm. Now, we all know there’s no fire... It’s just some drunk fuck who pulled the alarm. So, I go outside while my girlfriend is tied up in my room with a vibrating egg in her snatch. We’re all waiting outside for about fifteen minutes even though we’re usually back inside within five. Then, the fire department shows up. Apparently, it wasn’t some drunk who pulled the fire alarm; it was some drunk who set the bathroom garbage can on fire up on the fourth floor. I grab the hall coordinator and tell her

week eleven

It was 2 A.M. and my girlfriend was over even though she wasn’t supposed to be in my room after 11 P.M. And we were getting into some pretty kinky stuff. She had me tie her up, write on her, basically treat her like a sex slave. She wanted me to threaten her with death during this role-playing session, too. Obviously, she really got off on this type of stuff.

march 2009

Sexual Bondage and Firemen

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scheme

march 2009 week eleven

that my girlfriend is still inside.

She asks why the fuck I didn’t say anything. Well, because we’ve had 500 fire alarms and NONE of them were ever real. Additionally, I said my girlfriend didn’t get out because she was asleep and sleeps with earplugs because the slightest noises wake her up. I was hoping I’d be able to go get her alone.

Yeah, that didn’t happen.

The hall coordinator, a security guard, two firemen, and one of the RA’s escort me to my room. The Hall Coordinator puts her key in and I say, “All these people might freak her out. I’ll go get her.” The Fireman yells, “we don’t have time for this! Get her out, now!” He grabs the knob and flings the door open.

This is a sight I will never forget; I doubt anyone else will, either. Everyone goes into immediate shock.

There, hanging from the girders is my buck naked girlfriend with tears running down her face. She’s squirming as hard as she can and she’s screaming her muffled yells through the gag. Her tits are tied up and they’ve turned purple. I try to run in, but one fireman tackles me. He and the security guard then throw handcuffs on me. The other fireman goes in and pulls off the gag. My girlfriend screams (keep in mind there is MAJOR MAJOR labored breathing and an intense

march 2009

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was a ‘dead bitch!’ I told him I was a ‘cocksucker’!” Well, this was a showstopper. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, goes dead silent.

Then, a second later, there’s an eruption of laughter.

They drag me and my girlfriend into the Hall Coordinator’s apartment. Now, it’s just me, my girlfriend, the Hall Coordinator, the RA, two cops, and the security guard. One cop and the security guard take me into the bedroom and ask me all sorts of questions.

The one that stood out in my mind was, “what the hell were you planning considering you wrote ‘Dead Bitch’ on her chest?” While grilling me in the bedroom, they were asking her questions in the living room. This is quite possibly one of the most humbling experiences of my life... having to describe, in detail, perverse things I was doing to her and why...

After about an hour, they let us go and realized it was, in fact, just some very, kinky sex.

Now, here’s what my girlfriend told me about how things happened on her end. I left the room and she was fine. The fire alarm goes off and she’s freaking out because she knows the RA’s check the rooms. She hears me in the hall and relaxes. As time goes by, the vibrating egg starts to numb her.

Then, out of nowhere, it slams

scheme

hall coordinator can’t find any cord because with all the squirming, my girlfriend had sucked it up into her. Instead of cutting her down, they’re trying to figure out how to fish out this vibrator (or maybe they were trying to figure out what the hell she was talking about). It was probably like fifteen seconds, but it felt like an hour. So now, I’m screaming, “CUT HER DOWN! CUT HER DOWN!” The fireman cuts her down and my girlfriend jams her fingers up her pussy and produces a small vibrating egg.

They quickly untie her tits and pull off the clothespins. As the nylon ropes and clothespins come off, my girlfriend lets out a scream as the blood rushes back in and back out.

By this point, two cops have joined us, a paramedic has joined us, and four more firemen are there. With only one or two exceptions, everyone is still in complete shock.

While they’re dragging me away in handcuffs, my girlfriend is screaming, “No! It’s not his fault! He didn’t do anything!” I’m not fighting, but she’s wrestling the paramedic and the fireman who are helping her down the hall. (She could barely walk.) We get to the front doors and people are starting to return to their rooms. Many are just stopping and watching us. Finally, my girlfriend screams, “It was just kinkiy sex! I wanted it! It was me! I told him I

week eleven

tone of pain), “GET... THIS...

OUT... OF... MY... PUSSY!” The Hall Coordinator is asking what the fuck she’s talking about. I’m screaming, “PULL THE LITTLE CORD! PULL THE LITTLE CORD!” The

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march 2009 week eleven

tightened around her wrists more and more. She tried getting her legs underneath herself to lift up, but her feet were tied to the bedposts.

She got one leg undone, but the painful orgasms mixed with the one tied leg caused problems. First, she didn’t have much dexterity because closing her legs made it hurt even more, and with the one tied leg, she couldn’t wiggle her body enough to swing the one leg underneath her. Then, she heard the sirens and freaked out thinking she was going to burn to death. At that point, she just started screaming and wiggling around even more. I didn’t notice it when they were taking her out, but she claims she was just covered in her own spit because of the screaming, the death-writhing, and the gag.

The next day, I gotten written up for: * Violating Intervisitation (opposite sex in your room after hours) * Alcohol Possession (it was a dry dorm and I had some booze on the desk) * Failure to clear a room during an emergency * Disrespect towards a fellow student (I knew the female femi-Nazi hall coordinator had something to do with this one) My girlfriend didn’t get written-up for anything, but she got warnings for everything except disrespect.

As my punishment, I was required

her with a massive orgasm. And another. And another. And another.

Then it became painful with each successive orgasm. Then she said it was just like a “painful stabbing” with every vibration. She started squirming and the ropes just

week eleven

march 2009

Have one person lead others blindfolded to a zoo exhibit. Have them

Zoo Smells

smell around to guess what type of animal.

scheme .stain page fifty four

to see a school counselor for an hour every week until the end of the school year, I had to pay $50 for each write-up, I had to do 20 hours of community service at the campus ministry office, I had to write an essay on being respectful towards other students, and I had to write an essay on “love and relationships.”

Anyway, I called my dad and told him the story since I wasn’t about to pay the $200 and my dad was so fucking cool he laughed his ass off.

He called the school and I don’t know what he said, but after that, the only things I had to do were see the counselor twice and write the essay on “Love and Relationships.”

I basically met the counselor, explained the situation, and he signed off on the requirement after twenty minutes. As for the essay, I basically wrote an essay about the “alternative lifestyle” of Dominants and Submissives and I concluded with the line “just because she shows up to class with bruises doesn’t mean she isn’t loved.” They took the essay and I guess they never read it because I never heard anything else about it.

I felt horrible about this, but now that we’re not together, I think it’s hilarious. I only wish it could have been caught on tape. Surprisingly, this incident didn’t deter her from further acts of perversion, bondage, and humiliation.

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march 2009 week twelve

week twelve

march 2009

staim

Beltway Sprint

Get in a quick workout by running the opposite way on a moving sidewalk. Wear a headband and

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spandex.

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scheme

march 2009 week twelve

Messy Sheets Quandary Part 2

James lifted Jessica’s flowing white sheets only to find three large brown stains on both the sheets above and below where he laid. His eyes widened as the panic set in.

Trying to make his brain work in overdrive, James got the brilliant idea to spit on the stains and to rub them out with his fingers while Jessica remained in the bathroom.

Just after he wet and rubbed each, noticing no change, Jessica reentered the room. He positioned his body so that it covered any wet spots and Jessica crawled over him as she preferred the side of the bed against the wall.

While Jessica straddled James, he turned towards her, blocking her view from the disaster area directly behind and underneath him. She kissed him, turned to face the wall and have him spoon her, and quickly fell back asleep.

He couldn’t press his body against hers because his heart was beating its way out of his chest and he could not let her feel or smell his mess. He stared at his girlfriend and considered how much respect she was going to lose for him in the morning when she saw her now off-white sheets.

He imagined his humiliation when she told her family and her friends and she dumped him. What would he say to everyone? Would he ever

march 2009

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with something that many would not have been able to escape. He also knew that he could not handle being constantly reminded of this experience. So, partially because of the incident, he broke up with Jessica a few months later.

scheme

late cleaning his pants. He then said, “Oh, wait,” playing off the fact that his pants were in Jessica’s bed at one point. He quickly went to her side and rung out the washcloth over the stains, nicely camouflaging them.

Jessica, apparently exhausted, just said, “whatever,” and stayed facing the wall. James took advantage of the situation he had created, apologizing to her for the disturbance and the stains for which he took little responsibility. Then, he ran into the closet and grabbed any kind of stain remover or cleaner he could find: from Mr. Clean to Palmolive. He went back to the bed and scrubbed away, not caring if he bleached anything. After ten minutes of obsessive cleaning, Jessica requested James get back in bed.

James got a baggy to put his soaked boxers in and got back in bed. He could not fall asleep again since he was still in the danger zone.

He wanted out of her place in the worst way. He tried to sleep for an hour before making some excuse to get up and another to get out.

He prayed that she didn’t smell, see, or feel anything abnormal that night and he never heard her mention anything to him after the day.

Perhaps she was too embarrassed to bring up the subject, but the sly James knew that he had gotten away

week twelve

find someone who would not know him as the Pooper or the Stain Master? He knew that she must never learn find out. He lay next to her, motionless in contemplation and close to tears. After a fifteen-minute eternity, James again arose from the bed. Jessica, groaned and questioned him.

“I have to pee again, sorry,” James answered while pretending to search for his boxers and actually just pulling them out of his pant leg. He put on the drenched underwear and returned to the bathroom. After a few seconds, he rushed back into the bedroom and put on a perplexed look that he hoped Jessica could see through the darkness. He proceeded to scratch at the inside of his pants.

Making as much sound as he could, he made noises to show confusion.

“Huh?” James said to no avail.

“Hmmm?” still no response.

“That is weird,” James noted as Jessica finally spoke up.

“What is it?”

“I think I, I don’t know. Hold on,” James continued to feign. He returned with a wet washcloth and claimed; “I think I got some nast on my boxers and pants at school.

It must be from the bathroom.

I hate those dorms. This is so nasty.” James continued to simu-

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april 2009 week thirteen

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laughing, I cut in and she starts grinding all over me. Soon we’re making out and I’m liking how this is going.

I head back to the bar to rejoin my roommates and tear through about four beers in several minutes.

After delighting them with my latest escapade I promptly make my way back to my very friendly dance partner.

After dancing for a little while we begin to make out again…pretty heavily this time. As she is going to town on my neck and ears, I hear the announcement for last song. Shit! However, as we’re leaving the club everyone decides to head to a local pizza place – including my new friend!

Waiting in the rather long line, she decides to forget that there are about 100 other people in the restaurant and resume where we left off in the club. My drunken genius manifested itself in my offer to escort her to the bathrooms in the back of the place. Completely ignoring my friends questions as

scheme

As a junior having experienced pretty much all there is to do in Orlando away from all the tourist shit, alcohol and sex were my only saviors. Being a ridiculous drunk my whole college career I decided to extremely overdo it one night.

Before my friend Kris picked me up, I threw down a 12-pack at my house. A couple hours later along with my roommates and three other girls and two guys, we decide to head out to a local club. There, I was happy to find out that it was dollar beer night, perhaps the greatest invention since all-youcan-drink night.

After a decent amount of beer and shots, I decided to join up with the rest of my friends on the dance floor. Now, we have this friend, “Eric,” who is gay and we all know it even though he hasn’t come out yet. Eric was dancing with a girl who wasn’t in our group, So I start messing around with both of them.

I get Eric to grab her tits knowing she won’t care cause he’s obviously gay. As my buddies and I are dying

april 2009

week thirteen

Sex in the Pizza Alley

april 2009 week thirteen

scheme page sixty one

to where I was going, we make our way back there. As we approach the area, I see that the men’s room is out of order and notice the absurdly long bathroom line which I unknowingly cut. I ask the two guys in the front if I could please go into the bathroom ahead of them while pointing to the girl.

They tell me that as much as they would like to help they really have to piss and tell me to use the storage area right behind us.

Thanking them for their quick thinking I push aside the curtain and put her up on the stacked boxes. A minute later, she elbows an empty keg shell, which comes crashing down. Crap! This prompts one of the workers to come out and ask, “What the fuck’s going on?” I apologize and explain that I was just looking for the bathroom.

Next, I suggest trying the pizza place on the other side of the club.

Going straight into the bathrooms, I lock the door and put her up on the sink. As I start finger banging her, she undoes my pants and starts going to town on my junk.

Next thing I know some crazy bitch is banging on the bathroom door and yelling to get the fuck out of the bathroom. Thinking we were done, I pull back and ask what the girl what she wants to do. She says the lady can go fuck herself and starts back on me again.

I’m beginning to like this girl. A few moments later the crazy bitch is back at it. Thinking this just is not meant to be, we walk out and, I must say that this is where my pure brilliance really shines through. I grab her hand and walk

out the back door of the restaurant to the back area behind the two pizzas places and the club.

We find a quaint little alley and we resume right where we had left off.

A little while later, with her back up against the wall, she looks at me with those amazing eyes and tells me that she wants me to screw her right there in the alley. Of course I agree that that is an excellent idea.

I quickly turn her around and start at it.

While we’re still having sex, I notice that the bar backer from the club is going back and forth to the dumpster no more than 50 feet away from us. He makes six or seven trips without noticing us. But on the next trip I was pretty into it and when I see him looking our direction, straining to make out what’s going on. I put my finger up to my mouth trying to gesture him to be quiet and not say anything.

He puts his hands up as if to say ok and goes back inside. I turn my concentrations back to the girl and keep pleasing her. A good five minutes go by before I see the bar backer again, but this time he’s standing outside with about fifteen other people all watching us go to town! I quickly assess the situation and decide to put on an amazing show, which went on to include many moans and screams. A couple minutes later she stops and lets me know that she came. Knowing that I’m wasted out of my mind and it would take at least another hour to get me off, I agree to go back inside.

As we walk by, our audience starts shouting, “What happened?”

I yell back, “She came!” and they all started cheering and going crazy.

week fourteen

april 2009

speak.staim Create a theme night to spice up the week after week normal trips to the bar.

All dress in holiday sweaters.

Wear sexy sport outfits.

School girl/boy theme!

Cultural day. Talk in an accent.

Are you an angel or devil?

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Theme Night

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scheme

april 2009 week fourteen

WTF Date

I’m sad that there are so few stories at SCSU - is everyone too drunk to write a story or something? This one is about my worst date ever.

(And may I note, that I was 22 at the time and I probably should have left after the second question, but hell!

I’ve got a great story now!)

I was working at a tanning salon, and basically that meant I sat there and watched TV until someone had to be checked in, or a bed had to be cleaned. Easy money, right? Well, this is Minnesota and we spend far too long with barely any sun, so it also meant a lot of cute guys came in.

By the time my first six months were up, I was pretty good at being able to tell who was off-limits, or available … or gay. One night, I was sitting behind the counter watching TV (who knows what), and this pretty cute guy came in. We chatted and I checked him in (while I could tell he was checking me out).

Over the next few weeks, he came in more and more, and we’d talk (all the while I was sitting behind the counter). Eventually, he asked me out. We made plans to meet up at the golf course where he bartended.

It was only one town over, so I met him there. My roommates were throwing a party later, and then we were going to head over there.

I walked in, only to discover that he was a good 4 inches shorter then me. I thought, be nice! He’s really sweet. And then I realized that the place was closed and we had it all to ourselves. Strange, I thought. He

april 2009

page sixty four

What...the...FUCK!!!

“Ohhh...yeah, I don’t think that’s so cool.” And not too mention, fucking gross.

So, in the 45 minutes I had spent with him I discovered that: (a) He lost his virginity at 20 (b) He lost his virginity doing some girl up the pooper (c) He liked to eat candy out of girls hoo-ha’s (Melts in your what?)

At this moment, I started thinking about how I could get out of there... hmm, hunger! Yeah, that would work!

“Oh, you know, I think I should go. I’m super hungry.”

“Oh yeah? There is a Taco Bell close by. Wanna go? Then I’ll just follow you to your party.”

Shit! We decide to drive separately - THANK GOD! He ended up buying me my food, and we drive to my apartment for the party.

I get out of the car, and notice he’s struggling with a bag.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Well, I didn’t know where I’d end up tonight, so I had to bring my suit for church tomorrow.”

What.. THE....FUCK! By this point, I’m really thinking about how I’m going to get this guy out of my house and out of my life. Thank GOD my roommates were home and both of their boyfriends were over. The party hadn’t started yet, so I knew we were safe.

We go into the apartment, say hi to everyone, and he walks straight down the hall.

scheme

“I lost my V-Card last year.”

“Oh, yeah?” I said. Not every guy has to be a male whore, so I thought that was pretty sweet.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t in the usual way,” he told me.

“Huh?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

He fumbled with his drink for a second and said “Well, I was raised Catholic, and so was my girlfriend.

We were scared that she’d get pregnant, so we lost our V-Cards by doing butt-sex.”

WTF? Okay, I don’t care who you are, that is WAAAY too much information for a first date!

“Oh,” I said “…I see.” At this point, I was very confused. I don’t normally share this kind of information with even my best friends, let alone a first date!

“Soooo....” he says, “How about you? When’d you lose it?”

“Well, I don’t know if I really want to talk about that.” I tell him.

“That’s cool. I just wanted you to know.”(Gotta give a guy props for being honest, right?)

We talk a little more, he makes himself a couple more drinks, while I hold onto my beer (that I watched him pour from the tap) and he asks, “So, do you like other things inside you?”

“Other than a penis? No, not really.” I say - at this point, I’m starting to get a little freaked out.

“That’s too bad. I love to eat peanut M&M’s out of a girl.”

week fourteen

made me a couple cocktails, and we sat around and talked. After his third drink, he asked me if I was a virgin. (Umm...hello! At the time I was 22 - and I was going to SCSU! Pu-leaze!) I said no, and he said,

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april 2009 week fourteen

“Where are you going?” I ask as he heads straight into my room.

(Which was the only door open, and there were pictures of me on my door).

“Just putting my stuff away!” He nonchalantly calls back at me.

Then I realize something: the weekend before was Easter. My parents gave me a basket filled with candy. And in the basket was a bag of (you guessed it) peanut M&M’s.

Mother Clucker!

“Heeeeeeey!” I hear from my room.

“Shit.” I say. And walk into my room.

“Look what I found!” he says as he shakes the basket.

By this time, I am repulsed beyond belief. Not only have I learned way too much, too soon, but to expect to stay over at my house and put freaking chocolate candies up my nana-nana? Get the fuck out!

“Look, I’m not sure about the party,” I say. “I’m not feeling so hot, and I think it’d be better if you just go.”

“Oh.” “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll just get my stuff.”

He left. I got drunk with my friends, (because after that, I needed it!), and the next day he sent me flowers!

WTF? When I worked the next time, my manager came up and asked me how the date went. I was confused how she knew, and I guess she went to his church and he told his mom, who told her he was going out with me, and my manager just wanted me to know how sweet of a boy he was.

What. The. Fuck.

Moral of the story: don’t date short guys that come into tanning salons who like peanuts M&M’s.

april 2009

week fifteen

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april 2009 week fifteen page sixty seven

scheme

The Tow Truck Pizza Prank

Now, this is the best part about hillbillies. It takes them awhile to figure out it was a prank despite the fact that your average 3rd grader could have figured this out.

So, we decided to move a little closer.

As we got within earshot, I heard one guy actually say, “You pulled me out of bed to come down here and you got your truck runnin! I still want my $50 for coming out there!” That guy responded with, “I don’t know who the fuck you are! I’m here to tow this guy over here and he tells me he’s here to tow you!”

I shit you not, after about 15 minutes of them trying to figure out who was towing who without anyone needing a tow and no one willing to pay anyone else, one guy actually said, “Hey, hey, you guys.

Listen up... You all think someone was playing a joke on us?”

What a fuckin’ revelation!

In the end, we had a good laugh at the expense of a few confused hillbillies and they all went into New York CityPizza together laughing

scheme page sixty eight

as well. When we got back to the dorm, I thought one more prank call was in order. I flipped open the Yellow Pages and found the towing companies that didn’t answer their phones when we called the first time. Then, I called New York CityPizza. I asked if the redneck tow truck drivers were still there and the lady said they were.

I told her to send them over three pitchers of beer with the following message, “Tell them that Al from Jackwad Towing hopes they had fun tonight. And tell them that since they were such great sports about it that they can have one guy pay for it and if he stops in tomorrow around 5, I’ll cut him a check for whatever they ordered.”

We headed over to Jackwad Towing the next day at 5. One of the guys from the previous night showed up and went in. Looking through the glass, we could see him ranting and raving at the guy behind the counter. My buddy decided to go in to get a pack of cigarettes (it was also a small gas station). When my buddy came

up screaming, “I’ll get you, you mother fucker!” as he got into his truck and drove away.

We felt bad that poor Jackwad Towing was now going to be targeted for revenge, but it was quite entertaining.

It’s just so easy to mess with local Quincy, Illinois hillbillies!

april 2009 week fifteen

out, he was about to piss himself laughing. Apparently, those hicks wanted to stick it to Jackwad Towing. He said he saw the receipt on the counter and they racked up $283 in pizza and booze.

We stayed for awhile and our victim finally emerged all red-faced and severely pissed off. He ended

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april 2009 week fifteen

april 2009

week fifteen

BAC Test

Buy a Breathalyzer. Re cord your progress throughout the night and try to reach your BAC goal. Encourage everyone to help you reach

stain

your maximum potential.

LOW

page seventy

0.05 READY BATT WARM

april 2009 week sixteen

Walmart Worries

Test out what will get you arrested in Walmart. Will you be locked up if :: + you light all the their scented candles? + took pictures of you scrotum or breasts and left them on the digital cameras? + put your own photos in the picture frame?

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speak.stain

+ took a nap on the sofa?

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During my sophomore year I had the great honor of playing on the McGill Varsity hockey team.

Unfortunately the honor was all mine. Not since Tonya Harding has a bigger disgrace hit the ice.

Even now, years later, I can’t overstate just how terrible I was. I had the lateral movement of Bambi and the killer instincts of an Ice Capades penguin.

But as luck would have it, playing ability wasn’t of the utmost importance; drinking ability was.

In many ways it seemed like the team was just an excuse for 25 alcoholics to get some exercise. As our rightwinger Scotty was fond of saying, “We aren’t a hockey team with a drinking problem, we’re a drinking team with a hockey problem.”

Principal among those problems was me. I went the entire season without recording a single goal, assist or penalty minute. In fact,

april 2009

weeksixteen

Of Ice and Men

april 2009 week sixteen

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my season totals had more zeros in them than a Star Trek convention.

However, when it came to drinking I redeemed myself. My teammates were particularly impressed that on the road I’d often leave behind equipment in order to make room in my hockey bag for an extra sixpack. I clearly had my priorities in order.

Perhaps our most memorable road trip came that year at Christmas time when we made the trek to Toronto to play in a tournament against the country’s top teams.

The competition was far better than anything we had seen all season. It was as though some of these squads had actually been spending more time in the weight room than in the bar room.

I’d say it was a sobering experience were it not for the fact that we spent every spare moment drinking ourselves into oblivion. After all, our coaches had told us to stay hydrated.

On the last night of the tournament the coaches generously waived our curfews and allowed us to truly enjoy ourselves.

Frankly after losing all four of our games I don’t think they were too concerned about what happened to

in his current condition, Skip leapt into action. With my help he put Kurk into a nearby wheelchair and in a soft tone explained to the security guard, “We’re a university hockey team and this is Kurk. He’s retarded but he’s kind of our team mascot, so we wanted to reward him by taking him on his first road trip. It’s been an exhausting week for him, so you’ll have to excuse us if he’s not making much sense.”

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Not only did she buy it, she looked positively ashamed that she had rushed to judgment.

Patting Kurk on the head she gave us a big smile and waved us through. It was the first time in my life that I’ve ever seen someone piggyback another man through a metal detector.

For the remainder of his university career Kurk became known as “Corky,” the mentally handicapped character made famous in the ABC series Life Goes On. As for myself, I never played another season with the team, unable to crack the line-up the following year.

It’s just as well; all that hockey was interfering with my drinking.

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out all night, and we took every opportunity to do just that. So armed with equal parts drinking and bail money, we hit the town.

We may not have handled ourselves well on the ice that week, but we had no problem handling our alcohol, hoisting our school colors in one boat race and keg stand after another.

For the most part everyone made it through the evening in fine shape.

Everyone, that is, except our goalie, Kurk. After drinking twice his weight in draft Kurk was incoherent, throwing up constantly and unable to stand on his own power.

That was at 3:00 a.m. After that things just got worse. By the time we got to the airport at 6:10 Kurk had gone from a happy drunk to a babbling and surly infant.

When the time came to get him through security, Skip and I propped him up and marched him to the front of the line. The security guard stopped us dead in our tracks the moment she spotted him.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” She asked with great cynicism, ready if needed, to make a direct call to the Betty Ford clinic.

Knowing full well that Kurk wouldn’t be allowed on the plane

april 2009 week sixteen

us, but we appreciated the gesture anyhow.

The only stipulation was we had to be at the airport at 6:00 a.m. to make our way home.

In our minds a 6:00 a.m. meeting time was merely an excuse to stay

This book is the first part of a four part series. The collection contains 52 of the best stories from the dirty laundry application, provides space to record your own wild adventures week by week, and presents inspiration if you are seeking excitement or simply become bored.