8/3/2007
Manwhore’s tumor
A few years back my buddy Manwhore secured
a date with a girl who he had a crush on since high school. We will
call her Michelle here on the org. Michelle was a cheerleader at Campbell
County High School, and the University of Tennessee. She was an attractive
girl in the, “hey I can count your ribs because you puke after
every meal sort of way.”
They started hanging out and all seemed to be well.
It turned out that Michele had a bit of a problem with recreational
use of pharmaceuticals. Oh, I have some stories to tell about this one.
I will be telling plenty on her, but I will start out with some background.
Michelle met Manwhore when she was going through a divorce. She had
a vile little hell spawn of a child that she often forced upon us at
the LPV. She often got under poor Sean’s skin so bad he was about
to burst.
At one point she got loaded on booze and pills and took her child for
a drive, proceeded to wreck, and lose custody of her child(sadly the
child was still stuck with the atrocious name she saddled it with).
AT this point Manwhore decided he was going to rehab Michelle.
This was not the best move. She often did things to piss everybody off.
Being the mature adult I am, I retaliated in some of the most vile ways
possible.
One day apparently all of Trent’s Maxim’s offended her so
she threw them away. She replaced them with some sort of woman magazines
that didn’t give us mostly naked hot chicks. It did have some
good recipes in the cooking section. I decided to take it to the bathroom
with me and add some special sauce of my own to the steak; I tell you
masturbating to a rib eye isn’t as easy as it sounds. I am sure
she was thrilled when she noticed my contribution.
Not long after that she had done something else to piss us all off.
I decided to upgrade her makeup. I was wearing her fleece sweater like
a loin cloth one night when I noticed a proliferation of makeup brushes,
sponges, etc. I thought she needed some more brown in her foundation
so I stuffed her makeup sponges up my brownhole. About 20 minutes after
she brought her little fuck trophy over and said, “come here vile
little hellspawn(of course she called the child by its ridiculous name)
mommy is gonna make you pretty,” and began using my improved makeup
sponges on her.
Finally, one day I was in bathroom and noticed the little whore had
left her contacts in there. Figuring she hadn’t properly cleaned
them I thought I should help her. I couldn’t find the saline but
figured, “hey piss is sorta like saline”, and yellowed her
contacts up some. Thus went on the rest of the time she lived there.
I will have more stories about dear Michelle soon.
6/28/2007
The Eiffel Tower incident
As many of you have figured
out by reading these stories it was always a party at the LPV and there
was never a dull moment.
One morning Trent (the only person living there with a day job) got
up to go to work. He heard a cell phone ringing and did not recognize
the ring tone. He looked down and saw an open purse with a cell in it
ringing. He then looked over into Steven’s room (the door was
standing wide open) and saw Steven, his friend Jeremy, and an unknown
and not overly attractive female laying sprawled out in all of their
naked glory. Trent immediately got in the shower, headed to the Times
and told me what he saw.
We later found out that Steven and Jeremy had run into this female at
the movies and went out for a few drinks afterwards. They later came
back to the LPV for a few more drinks. Trent was already in bed because
of work and Sean was nowhere to be found. After a few drinks things
apparently turned pornographic. Let’s just say Steven and Jeremy
left none of their troglodytes holes unfilled that evening. At one point
as they were both on the poor beast Jeremy looked at Steven and said,
“Hi five!” They realized this sort of looked like the Eiffel
Tower from the position they were in.
As a post script to this story the girl had a little post sex rectal
bleeding on one of Steven’s pillows. A few months after the event
took place we were partying at Steven’s new pad in LaFollette
when Trent looked at his pillow and said, “please tell me that
is not the same blood from that troglodyte’s ass that you and
Jeremy double teamed!?!” Steven looked kind of funny for a minute
and realized that indeed he had not changed his pillow cases since the
incident.
6/13/2007
Son of Manwhore
We gathered routinely at the LPV Monday
nights for Raw. One night Manwhore had his children with him. Yes, those
of you who do not personally know manwhore, he has spawned. Probably
more times than he realizes. Things were going pretty slow until Steven
(not Dancin Stevie) showed up with his sister Beth in tow. Beth is absolutely
balls hot. She has been mentioned many times on www.thepat.org and will
doubtlessly be mentioned many more. Manwhore's son, also known as little
Roddy, was there. Normally he is just as anxious to see a hot chick
as his father is. Well Beth is hotter than your ordinary hot chick.
Son of Manwhore went through an elaborate ritual to try to woo Beth.
Including throwing his toys at her, and doing a strange mating dance.
At the end of the night Beth said to him, “come here baby and
give me a hug. He ran up to Beth, dropped his skivvies. Then while standing
naked he showed her his tool, and shook it at her. This is a new thing
even for him. Beth left soon afterwards, I guess Son of Manwhore was
a little too fast and young for her tastes. Knowing lil Roddy though
he will bounce back, and be all about the next hot chick that comes
by for a visit.
Sean’s folly – A latter day
tale of the LPV
Last night Sean and Man-whore took me
out for my birthday. This basically involved getting shithoused drunk.
We started out at Ginza for some sushi, because nothing goes better
with alcohol than raw fish and seaweed. We had some sake to start out;
of course Sean with his discerning taste decided that some Miller Lite
was in order. In fact you could offer Sean top shelf liquor, or the
finest French wine and he would choose Miller Lite.
After the sushi and sake we went to Hooters on Kingston Pike. Since
it is not our regular haunt we decided after a pitcher of their finest
Miller Lite that we would move on to the one on Merchant’s where
we actually knew some waitresses. Well Man-whore and I do know some
waitresses at least as Sean has been busy coaching and not joining us
much on Thursdays. After a few pitchers Sean was his charmingly drunk
self. He promptly began hitting on the waitresses. This wasn’t
working out well for him as none of them knew him and he just came off
as some random creepy guy. He couldn’t understand why Man-whore,
a regular that all the waitresses know, was having luck and he wasn’t.
After a few more pitchers we decided to move on to the Emerald Club,
one of Knoxville’s finest gentlemen’s clubs. We ran into
some dancers that we new, particularly from Man-whore’s late father
being a bouncer there. We were having a good time and it turns out it
was two for one lap dance night. Those girls certainly earned their
moneys that night. Man-whore and I were in the back room getting our
lap dances when we noticed Sean was slumped over the table. It turns
out he was passed out right there in the club. Let me say this again,
he was so drunk he was passed out in a room full of naked, beautiful
(well stripper beautiful) women. I have been plenty drunk in my time.
I have swam in the lake during thunderstorms, I have hit on women twice
my weight, I destroyed Whiskey’s house to the point that Wong
had to keep him from shooting me dead. But never have I ever passed
out in a room full of naked women. His drunkenness was stunning. WE
decided to get him out of there before he got us a PI charge. It was
a fun night, but I have to say Sean impressed even me with his ability
to get drunk on just beer.
Dogs of the LPV
The LPV was a wild and crazy time in
my life and the additions of the LPV dogs, Hannibal and BA, was no exception.
It all started one slow evening as we were there drinking and watching
something on TV. One of us got a phone call from Beth, who is the lovely
She-Pat I have written about else where on www.thepat.org many times.
She said that she was on her way over and had Lindsay with her and that
they had something for us. Of course I am pretty sure in our addled
state we were all thinking orgy that was not what they had for us. They
showed up with a pair of puppies. They told us a sad story about how
Lindsay’s dad wouldn’t let her keep them and that he was
going to kill them. They also promised if we would keep them until Lindsay
graduated high school that they would provide all the food and medicine
for them. Though it seemed like a good idea we weren’t sure about
it. Trent even declared it a very bad idea. They then promised to come
bathe them in bikinis all summer. Well at that point cupid had spoken
and Sean agreed to keep them. We named them Hannibal and BA after the
characters on the A-team.
The girls of course brought them food and medicine one time and the
near naked bathing never took place. In fact Lindsay was a bit of a
non-bather herself so I don’t know why we would think she would
be willing to come bathe dogs.
But they seemed like good dogs so we weren’t to worried. Turns
out these things were the hounds of Hell. While everybody was gone during
the day we left them on the gated back deck. We left them what should
have been plenty of food and water. Apparently it wasn’t as we
began to notice shards of wood in their crap and noticed that hunks
of the doorframe were missing. On another occasion we went to grill
only to notice the little bastards had eaten out entire bag of fucking
charcoal. We decided at that point to let the little bastards run wild
and if anything happened to them it was still better than them eating
our house.
One night during a party we were on the deck when Broadway Joe, a former
college football player that had moved back to town and a LARGE individual,
was standing there and heard a yelping. He said, “What’s
that noise?” Sean looked at him and said, “You are standing
on one of our dogs.” The yelping continued as apparently this
didn’t sink in with the drunken Broadway. “GET OFF OF HIM!”,
Sean finally yelled.
These dogs terrorized the neighborhood for the next several months as
we continued to regret our decision to keep them.
Beth finally told us that they weren’t even Lindsay’s dogs
and that they had stolen them from a skeezy trailer park in front of
some equally skeezy children. Oh well it was probably a meth dealership
and the dogs ended up better off.
Well when summer ended that year so did the LPV. We couldn’t agree
on who had to keep the dogs so w e just left them to be the neighborhood’s
pets. Trent and I decided one night to go catch them and just leave
them in Sean’s yard up in Powell Valley. Unfortunately one of
our neighbors had tired of apparently the dogs eating and shitting in
his yard constantly and took them to the pound. Oh well they were still
better of than in the skeezy trailer park with the equally skeezy neth
children.
Since the dawn of the LPV we always got
together there to watch rasslin pay per views. Usually all the usual
suspects would show up. On the night of Summer Slam we decided to watch
the ppv, drink some and grill. Everybody there was having a few beers
and having a good time. I wasn’t in a beer mood and I pointed
out to Manwhore that I was feeling it. I immediately went and got out
the seldom-used bottle of scotch. I poured myself about and 8 ounce
glass and began sipping on it, because that is what you are supposed
to do with scotch. I went out on the porch where Sean and Jason were
working on the burgers and brats. Sean apparently took exception to
the fact I wasn’t drinking my scotch as fast as he was drinking
his Miller Lite. I explained to him that what I was drinking was quality
and what he was drinking was cheap swill. He questioned my manhood and
told me, “If yew have any balls about yew then yew will chug it!”
Well who am I to argue with a drunk guy from Powell Valley?? Especially
one who is questioning my testicles. I of course chugged the scotch.
No big deal I am a big guy and though it was a lot of alcohol I planned
on getting drunk that night anyway. I chugged it to satisfy my beer-swilling
friend and poured myself another glass. Well the matches had started
and Sean and Jason brought in a huge plate of dead burnt hog and cattle
for our eating pleasure. As we were eating Sean once again took displeasure
in the fact that I was sipping my scotch rather than pounding the Miller
Lite like he was. I tried to explain to him that didn’t hate myself
enough to drink Miller Lite. That sat about as well as a fart in church
with him. “Why don’t yew just chug it big boy!”, said
dear Sean. I tried to explain the badness that would happen if I did.
Apparently that didn’t set well with him. I finally said, “ok
you asked for it”, and chugged eight more ounces of 120 proof
scotch. Well I ate and all was good for a time. But a little while later
the alcohol began to take hold of me. I am a hot natured person, Summer
Slam is, as the name implies, in the summer, alcohol makes you feel
warm because all of your body heat is leaving your body. This combo
caused me to become unbearably hot so I took off my shirt. This caused
a bit of grumbling with the others but nothing big. I was still hot
shortly there after so off came the shorts. This caused some discomfort
from the guys. Still hot after all of this I finally took off my skivvies
and was sitting on the couch in the buff. This did not go well with
the guys. In fact the emotions were a mix of anger and terror. I was
to far gone to care at that point with half a bottle of scotch coursing
through my system. Sobriety quickly sat in on the others as the horror
of a naked Pat shocked the alcohol right out of their systems. Only
Manwhore understood that in my most base state, and believe me this
was about as base as it got, I was like a predatory animal that attacked
on motion. I chase them around the apartment for a bit until I decided
it was time to piss. Instead of using one of the two bathrooms in the
apartment I went outside in broad daylight, still nude, and pissed off
the balcony. This caused me to get yelled at severely. The next time
I need to relieve myself I decided that the bathroom was a better alternative
to the yelling. I went to Bo’s bathroom and while I was pissing
a found a unicorns horn laying in the floor. I, of course, picked it
up and attached it to my head. Turns out that it was a plunger. After
chasing the guys, except Manwhore who was still hiding from me by being
still, around they convinced me to take it off. Further more they convinced
me that if I put my clothes on and wore my underwear outside my shorts
like Superman does that I would get his powers. My drunken mind processed
this as a good idea. Looking back I think they were hoping I would try
to fly off the balcony. I finally laid down on the floor and passed
out. Sean woke me up at 2 in the am and tossed me my keys. Despite the
fact that I was still just completely shit housed I drove home anyway,
with my underwear still outside my shorts. I somehow made it home though
I to this day have no re-collection of actually traveling. When I got
home I stripped again and went for a swim. I feel lucky that I wasn’t
found floating face down the next day.
|
