J.C. Keyser's House of Booze

[jckeyser]

Time to clean my house, go to the porn store, and do laundry?

And drink, and I don't go to no store for my porn.

[aquabanianskakid]

I don't go for the porn, I go for the toys. 

[jckeyser]

I don't go for the porn, I go for the toys. 

Jesus-tittyfucking-Christ.

[aquabanianskakid]

You can actually get silicone boobs for "tittyfucking". I need a sleeve... aka pocket pussy. Not to mention I wouldn't mind having a cock ring.

[jckeyser]

You can actually get silicone boobs for "tittyfucking". I need a sleeve... aka pocket pussy. Not to mention I wouldn't mind having a cock ring.

Kind of paradoxical, you using the words "need" and "pussy" in the same sentence, no?

[aquabanianskakid]

  Like I've said before I still like the vag... I just like the cock more.

[Bill Brasky]

So, I'm sitting in the bar last night, talking to my friend whos playing a MegaTouch machine, and throwing vodka in my face.  This chick walks up and says "want some candy?"  I'm like "Sure."  (I don't really like candy, so I just let it sit there)  She says "Wanna read my shirt?"  I say "sure"  (I already read it, it says Social Hazard and has a biohazard symbol on it, very ominous).

I make a show of reading the shirt and nod meaningfully.  Shes all tits and slobbery drunk, pushing 'em up against my arm.  Talking to this chick is like watching two monkeys fuck a football.  She says "How old you think I am?"  I say "Thirty-one."

"No fair, I already told you."  
"No you didn't"
"Want me to prove it?"
"No."

This is becoming very twisted logic, and she hands me her credit card.  I tell her "This says you're two." because she's a cardholder since 2005.  She hands me her drivers license, it verifys her age is 31, but doesn't prove she'd told me that information previously to any of this conversation.  

"Wanna buy me a drink?"
"Yup.  Nikki!  Get her a drink, please?"  Nikki points down to the end of the bar where a big fresh vodka and cranberry is sitting next to a cell phone and a pile of money.  I point to it and the social hazard, and Nikki brings the drink down.

"Thanks.  Yer cute."
"No problem."

My friend playing the MegaTouch is saying "Fuck" bip bink bloop "Her"  blip zonk without taking his eyes off the machine.

Finally after a little more disturbing small talk, she says "Come down there and sit next to me if you wanna fuck."  Its rarely heard, but I'm not shocked.  In fact, the world would be a better place if more women were willing to speak their mind.  However, this one is a fucking nitwit, and I'm not interested.  She goes away swishing her ass and I'm supposed to be eagerly dancing along behind her like Fred Astaire clicking my heels and singing Zippity Doo Daa.  

I remain seated.  She gets down to her pile of belongings and sits.  When her vision stabilizes, she notices I'm still where I was and not about to come running down the bar like two lovers running in slow motion on a beach into each others embrace.  

"What the fucks your problem, you some kinda queer?"
"No."

This is going long distance now, over the blare of a juke box and twenty people in drunken conversation.  The guy two spots down (not the one playing the Touch) says "YER A FUCKIN PIG!"

She snaps.  She starts ranting and raving at me about a pussy who doesn't want pussy, thinking I'm the one who called her a pig.  She knocks her drink over and it splashes everywhere.  On the TV is a show called "Scarred" showing people doing all these amazing wipe-outs on skateboards and rollerblades.  

The guy who called her a pig is stomping his foot and singing Kid Rock's "Hillbilly Stomp" at the top of his lungs. Pretty soon she turns her attention on some other guy and they leave about half an hour later, and she hangs me the finger on her way out the door.

[jckeyser]

So, I'm sitting in the bar last night, talking to my friend whos playing a MegaTouch machine, and throwing vodka in my face.  This chick walks up and says "want some candy?"  I'm like "Sure."  (I don't really like candy, so I just let it sit there)  She says "Wanna read my shirt?"  I say "sure"  (I already read it, it says Social Hazard and has a biohazard symbol on it, very ominous).

I make a show of reading the shirt and nod meaningfully.  Shes all tits and slobbery drunk, pushing 'em up against my arm.  Talking to this chick is like watching two monkeys fuck a football.  She says "How old you think I am?"  I say "Thirty-one."

"No fair, I already told you." 
"No you didn't"
"Want me to prove it?"
"No."

This is becoming very twisted logic, and she hands me her credit card.  I tell her "This says you're two." because she's a cardholder since 2005.  She hands me her drivers license, it verifys her age is 31, but doesn't prove she'd told me that information previously to any of this conversation. 

"Wanna buy me a drink?"
"Yup.  Nikki!  Get her a drink, please?"  Nikki points down to the end of the bar where a big fresh vodka and cranberry is sitting next to a cell phone and a pile of money.  I point to it and the social hazard, and Nikki brings the drink down.

"Thanks.  Yer cute."
"No problem."

My friend playing the MegaTouch is saying "Fuck" bip bink bloop "Her"  blip zonk without taking his eyes off the machine.

Finally after a little more disturbing small talk, she says "Come down there and sit next to me if you wanna fuck."  Its rarely heard, but I'm not shocked.  In fact, the world would be a better place if more women were willing to speak their mind.  However, this one is a fucking nitwit, and I'm not interested.  She goes away swishing her ass and I'm supposed to be eagerly dancing along behind her like Fred Astaire clicking my heels and singing Zippity Doo Daa. 

I remain seated.  She gets down to her pile of belongings and sits.  When her vision stabilizes, she notices I'm still where I was and not about to come running down the bar like two lovers running in slow motion on a beach into each others embrace. 

"What the fucks your problem, you some kinda queer?"
"No."

This is going long distance now, over the blare of a juke box and twenty people in drunken conversation.  The guy two spots down (not the one playing the Touch) says "YER A FUCKIN PIG!"

She snaps.  She starts ranting and raving at me about a pussy who doesn't want pussy, thinking I'm the one who called her a pig.  She knocks her drink over and it splashes everywhere.  On the TV is a show called "Scarred" showing people doing all these amazing wipe-outs on skateboards and rollerblades. 

The guy who called her a pig is stomping his foot and singing Kid Rock's "Hillbilly Stomp" at the top of his lungs. Pretty soon she turns her attention on some other guy and they leave about half an hour later, and she hangs me the finger on her way out the door.

So.....you didn't fuck her?

[Bill Brasky]

Jeez, I wish.  Sadly, no.  I fumbled it badly. 

[aquabanianskakid]

Actually Brasky I think in some awesome kickass way you won big time. It takes some balls to act like you don't give a shit it that kinda situation. Besides she sounds about as smart as a rock. She probably went home with the guy a vomited on him during sex.

[Lindsey]

Gross, Bob. 

[Bill Brasky]

Actually Brasky I think in some awesome kickass way you won big time. It takes some balls to act like you don't give a shit it that kinda situation. Besides she sounds about as smart as a rock. She probably went home with the guy a vomited on him during sex.

That was sorta the whole message.  Not to sound like a wise ass about it.  And trust me, I painted a very delicate picture of those events.  She was a mess in every way.  And issues?  Whoo-boy, many. 

The dude playing the MegaTouch says "Why din't you just let her blow you or something."  I said "C'mon man, I gotta show my face in here tomorrow."   Word spreads that you'll hook up like that...   Game over. 

[Elitist Bitch]

Funny story, Brasky.

It reminds me of this place I hang out at at school.  It's kind of a Greek hangout, but I have friends in sororities, so I can kind of pass. (Plus I help them write papers, which seems to also help).  So, I'm out with one of my friends, and this girl is almost like the girl in your story, except she's 21.  Can't make out the Greek letters on her purse (note: Sorority members are not supposed to get intoxicated with their letters anywhere on their person) but everyone seems annoyed by her.  I have a German guy on one side, and an Australian on the right, playing a drinking game. Don't remember what.  So the girl comes to our table and starts flirting with the German.  When he rejects her (not very gently) she turns to the Aussie.  He's playing ball, about to leave with her, when my friend shows up and tells him something, then (loudly) tells the girl to get lost.

Turns out the girl had some STD or another, and was removed from the sorority for some sort of honor code violation.

[Bill Brasky]

Yikes.  I guess the honor code violation was in relation to her behavior and willingness to spread her funk?

I went to a different place tonight, there were two chicks about that age, donno if they were in school or not, doesn't really matter.  Its a corner joint.  Dark.  Mostly older guys.  They hung a while (friends with the bartender) and then left to go eat somewhere.  All scrubbed clean and perky.  Cute.  Walked out in a perfectly straight line.  Its refreshing to see people who dont always want to fall on their face.  Obviously, they've probably done it at some point, but were fine tonight.  I had two beers and a hotdog.  Probably stayed an hour.  Didn't feel like it. 

I most likely wont go out for another week, but maybe my frustrations will drive me there sooner.  Donno.  It gets old.

[Lindsey]

I don't have any good drunk people stories that involve non-relatives.   I do have a drunk people story from yesterday though.  Mall management in the mall where I work has come up with a new policy.  Kiosks and inline stores are never to be empty.  They think there should be at least two people in a store at all times, so if someone is peeing or eating, there should always be a body on the sales floor.  Well, the people at our stores aren't happy, because it's pretty much strictly a double coverage environment, and we work a lot of open-close shifts.  So now I have to leave my store every time they need to go somewhere and stand in the kiosk.  That's fine with me, since I enjoy it out there.  Except for yesterday.

Our mall also has a place called "The Street Corner News" that has drinks, snacks, and of course...newspapers and magazines.  They also have beer.  I had four customers yesterday that were so drunk that I could smell them before they even got to the kiosk.  It was...stinky.  What's the fun in getting drunk in the mall?  You're just going to get thrown out.  And it's sad when people over the age of 20 manage to get themselves removed forcibly from a mall.