Just your everyday stuck up, tasteless, male humor blog. I talk about everything from my crazy sex antics to helping you accomplish yours. Love it or hate it, you are still reading the best trash on the web.
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You've heard about my glorious tales of triumph and filth for over a month now. Let me hear what kind of crazed, deprived, horrific acts have you pulled off? I know they won't be as heinous as mine, but I'd sure love to hear about them.
So give it a shot. You know you want to. Send me your dirtiest tale or tip and I may publish it here on Old Dirty Blog. Who knows? It might inspire me to go off into the world and use your tactics to spread some sex sauce all over some young coed, and of course write about it here.
One night not too long ago, my buddy Mark and I went out for some fine Mexican cuisine. I'm talking like some of the best refired beans and spicy fish tacos this side of Cazumel. I hadn't feasted on south-of-the border fare of this magnitude since spring break in Cabo, where I probably fathered 5 illegitimate children. Hopefully I'm dead before the Mexican government get's the paperwork in order.
But I digress. After inhaling three large pitchers of margaritas (anyone who orders frozen or flavored ones in any circumstance should be assassinated) we decided to head out to some local watering holes in search of some tail. Midway through, Montezuma had his revenge on my anus, and I was forced to miss much of the action while a series of crippling, life-altering dumps took over my life. Once I was done, that seedy unventilated bathroom was about as toxic as Trynobyl on a warm summer day.
Mark, however, did a great job. He got invited back to this girl's house, and was getting her ready to receive an industrial-sized load of pounding paste when disaster struck. He was halfway through unbuttoning his zipper when his body betrayed him, and he was forced to unleash hordes of Mexican cuisine into her small apartment's toilet, thusly ruining his chances of his sex sombrero ever making an appearance.
In light of this senseless tragedy, I think it's important that we review the two key mistakes that were made in this incident.
1. Never eat Mexican food (outside of spring break) and consume alohol when you think there is a remote chance you may be giving the gift of screw goo to anyone who isn't comfortable with your forthcoming gastro-intestinal distress
2. If rule #1 is broken. drop a deuce in a discreet location- even if you have to really push it out there. your anus may be angry, but your man piston will thank you.
How else does one manage the act of attaining casual sex with shameless whores and unleashing the inevitable batch of hot liquid doom? Here are some important tips to consider.
-If you're dropping off a girl at her house and she date has gone terribly- or she balked at the idea of giving you a handie in the movie theatre, it's always a classy move to unleash a deuce in her bathroom right before leaving.
-If you're at a girl's parents house, its important to only deuce when absolutely necessary. When deucing, use the least trafficked bathroom- the same one you'd use to shag your girl during Thanksgiving (see the bog below) or some other holiday.
-If your slam pig is cavalier enough to tell you when she has to drop a deuce, she is either an amazingly cool girl, or is a shameless farm animal who should be put out to pasture and clubbed with a cattle prod.
-Wash your hands after deucing so you don't give some poor chick pink eye when you re spearing her intestines with your Johnson later on
-If you're a sadistic pig, as many ODB readers happen to be, then The Cleveland Steamer is always an option. Ask you dad what it is if you don't know what I'm talking about. He will provide you with an answer.
-Deucing and then masturbating, while a good idea at home or in those really roomy bathrooms in Starbucks, is far too risky of an act to be considered in a public place. For public spanking tips, please see "Jerking it on the can while workin for the man", one of my finest pieces of work.
I bet you didn't know this, but in addition to being the master of the man-pistion, and the king of cock custard, I also happen to be quite skilled at the ability to mix a great alhoholic beverage. There is no time like the holiday season to drown your sorrows in booze, or to shamelessly pump some poor slam pig full of happy sauce in efforts to to pork the snot ouf of her. At your holiday party, try whipping up and of these three beverages- and perhaps you'll find a nice warm honeypot full of holiday cheer!
Rudolph the Red-Nosed Roffie or
Mrs. Claus's Secret Potion
1 oz 151 Proof Rum
1 oz unadulterated desire for cooch
1 oz coconut rum
1 oz pineapple juice
Dash of grenadine
1 vacant backseat with prophylactics in the glove box.
1 candy cane (a literal candy cane, scumbag)
Directions: Combine ingredients into a Martini shaker. It's key to add equal parts of both kinds of rum. The coconut rum and grenadine completely hide the taste of the over-proof rum, making the drink taste like it's got about as much booze as a Smirnoff Ice- but there's enough party potion in this drink to tranquilize an elephant. Two of these, and her legs should be wrapped around your head. Garnish with a candy cane to make this drink look innocent, family oriented, and wholesome.
Dong-Huffing Egg Nogg
or Grandma's Secret Recipe Egg Nogg
1 carton generic Egg Nogg mix
1 bottle 151 proof rum (notice a theme?)
1 whole lot of cinnamon and sugar
1 dash of brass balls
Directions: Even if you're a complete dolt, you can make this work for you. Egg nogg by itself is an acquired taste, and usually rum makes it taste even worse. That is, unless you add liberal amounts of cinnamon and brown sugar to the virgin form before you dump a bunch of booze into it. Chicks love things with sugar- this will make your slam pig giddy, chatty, and pretty soon, unspeakably drunk- as these ingredients have an uncanny ability to mask the taste of rum. If you're looking to plunder a diabetic chick, this is not the cocktail for you.
The Merry Christmas Money Shot
1/2 an ounce coconut rum
1/2 an ounce 100 proof vodka
1/2 an ounce peppermint schnapps
a dash of lemon lime soda
1 candy cane
Directions: If you're trying to conquer a chick who's a bit our of your league, or perhaps your girlfriend's mom/older sister/grandmother this holiday season- then it's time to break out this time honored favorite. Simply combine these ingredients into a rocks glass, give that puppy a tumble, and whamo! You've got something that taste's like peppermint candy and is potent enough to kill a cache of Elves! Three of these, and she'll be dashing into your pants for a one horse open ride on our sex sleigh!
Note: ODB does not condone drinking to excess. Enjoy your booze responsibly, morons.
Over the course of my long, illustrious career as a professional clam-jammer, I've said a lot of questionable things to a lot of highly questionable girls. As the holidays are often a time for reflection, I've been thinking about some of the long, very drunken evenings I've endured that have resulted in not only some brazenly bad pickup lines, but have been highlighted by my snappy comebacks to failed, atrocious pickup lines. Here's the hall of fame thus far.
Me: I'm actually going off to war. I ship off tomorrow. Her: I don't believe you. You haven't shaved in months Me: What would your mother say if you refused to blow me for the sake of your country?
Me: I'm actually a philosophy major over at Yale Her: Your sweatshirt says "Housatonic Community College...." Me: Don't judge me, wench
Me: Baby, I wanna take you back to my place, and put my evil in side of you.... Her: I'm sorry, what was that? Me: Oh, I meant come back to my place, and I can lay beside you... Her: Aw, that's sweet
Me: Wow, that martini looks pretty strong... Her: Screw off Me: It'll give you just what you need, MORE hair on your chest
Me: Do you make mac and cheese at home? Her: ...yeah.... Me: Wanna come back to my place, and I'll make you mac and cheese?
Me: You know sugar-tits, I may not be the best looking guy in this room, but I'm the only one talking to you Her: Wanna come back to my place? Me: You're hideous. Get away from me.
Me: I once shot a man just go get an erection Her: ..... Me: You wanna get outta here? My mom is out of town
Me: I really think that you and I have a special connection.... Her: You're pathetic Me: Hey baby, if it weren't for alcohol and dishonesty, none of your friends would've slept with me, either. Me: Great Halloween costume....lemme guess..Yokozuna? Her: I'm a geisha girl Me: Wanna come back to my place?
Me: I've got a beer in my fridge, wanna come back to my place and drink it? Her: ....... Me: It's kind of warm, but I could put some ice in it?
Me: Nice shoes (awkward pause) wanna slap it around? Her: Oh My God! You're such a scumbag Me: Your parents adopted you
We've all been there before. It's that lull between the servings of candied yams and dried beets, the football game is a blowout, and you're a little buzzed of four bud lights. You look at your lovely girlfriend next to you, with her supple bosom hiding behind a tight brown sweater, and her honeypot hiding under a mini skirt, and you know it's go time. You can almost hear Al Michael’s in the background encouraging you. You give her "the look" and unless she's a useless slam hog, she'll know that its time to execute the coveted Turkey Day bathroom quickie.
While everyone else is all hopped up on tryptophan and holiday cheer, it's time to act. Quickly and discreetly dash to the most out of the way bathroom in the house. Most suburban houses all have a quiet, altogether nondescript bathroom tucked away on the second floor, or in the basement somewhere. This is where you should unleash your holiday cock custard.
Now, using your manhood as a vaginal turkey-baster takes on a whole new dimension when you're in a quaint family bathroom as opposed to a public one(See, "Do you have the gall to bang her in a public stall?). You have to be a little more courteous and gentle- unless you’re one of those Gen-X "I hate my parents" types who still listens to Megadeth. If that's the case, no one likes you anyway.
If there is a bathroom sink, it's always a vintage move to prop her up against the sink and pound away in such a fashion that the two of you are in a lower-case "y" shape. In this situation, it's always good to stuff a bath towel in her mouth to keep the noise at a minimum, or if you're into that kind of depraved behavior. If you think about it, burning off a few hundred calories while pumping your girl full of holiday cheer will probably allow you to have at least two more helpings of sweet potato pie and pickled beets.
You receive ultimate style points if you can accomplish this entire feat while munching on a turkey leg. You're considered an ultimate John Madden worthy Thanksgiving hero if said turkey leg secretes juices onto her jugs, and you lick it off mid thrust, then go back to eating.
You should then re-enter this family-themed, joyful celebration of American gluttony once again as if nothing had ever happened- and watch football knowing that you too, scored big on Turkey Day.
You've heard about my glorious tales of triumph and filth for over a month now. Let me hear what kind of crazed, deprived, horrific acts have you pulled off? I know they won't be as heinous as mine, but I'd sure love to hear about them.
.
One night not too long ago, my buddy Mark and I went out for some fine Mexican cuisine. I'm talking like some of the best refired beans and spicy fish tacos this side of Cazumel. I hadn't feasted on south-of-the border fare of this magnitude since spring break in Cabo, where I probably fathered 5 illegitimate children. Hopefully I'm dead before the Mexican government get's the paperwork in order. 
I bet you didn't know this, but in addition to being the master of the man-pistion, and the king of cock custard, I also happen to be quite skilled at the ability to mix a great alhoholic beverage. There is no time like the holiday season to drown your sorrows in booze, or to shamelessly pump some poor slam pig full of happy sauce in efforts to to pork the snot ouf of her. At your holiday party, try whipping up and of these three beverages- and perhaps you'll find a nice warm honeypot full of holiday cheer! 
Over the course of my long, illustrious career as a professional clam-jammer, I've said a lot of questionable things to a lot of highly questionable girls. As the holidays are often a time for reflection, I've been thinking about some of the long, very drunken evenings I've endured that have resulted in not only some brazenly bad pickup lines, but have been highlighted by my snappy comebacks to failed, atrocious pickup lines. Here's the hall of fame thus far. 
We've all been there before. It's that lull between the servings of candied yams and dried beets, the football game is a blowout, and you're a little buzzed of four bud lights. You look at your lovely girlfriend next to you, with her supple bosom hiding behind a tight brown sweater, and her honeypot hiding under a mini skirt, and you know it's go time. You can almost hear Al Michael’s in the background encouraging you. You give her "the look" and unless she's a useless slam hog, she'll know that its time to execute the coveted Turkey Day bathroom quickie. 