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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My blogging excellence has awarded with this really cool nomination. Please vote for this blog, and I will redouble my efforts to provide classy, refined sexual trash for your reading pleasure.
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.
I was in Pennsylvania to see a Phish concert once. The venue was somewhere between a cow pasture and the edge of the freakin’ planet. I'm talking about a barren wasteland of pastures, rolling hills, and inbred people are far as the eye could see. For some reason, Phish had decided to invite thousands of horny, scantily clad people pumped full of psychedelics to this god-forsaken place to hold a concert. I was all over it like Dr. Phil in a room filled with under aged Thai schoolchildren.
My buddies and I camped out, and got horribly intoxicated before the show began. I'm talking 5-alarm Betty Ford blasted here. I don't much remember the concert, but I do remember meeting this absurdly busty girl named "Star" who liked looking at me. Star was evidently a local girl who had few life goals other than abusing substances and watching Phish. She ranged in age anywhere from 18 to 25, and the sheer girth of her fun bags ranged anywhere from "ginormous" to "unbelievably colossal".
After slapping it around a bit during the show, she convinced me to come back to her place, seeing as that her parents aren't home. She assures me it isn't far away. So, I head out into the boondocks and tell my friends to wait up for me. I figure a little rustic dick and dash will be an outstanding time- and seriously, she had juggs that could orbit Saturn.
Her house was a pedestrian 40 minutes away. Great. But I took some solace in the fact that she was handling my joust like an American Gladiator, while I went spelunking in the glorious valley of her juggs. Did I mention they were huge?
We got back to her house, and I immediately saw an in-ground pool. Driven by a night where I had consumed my body weight in Wild Turkey and Moonshine, I asked her if skinny dipping would be a solid move. She agreed.
The next two minutes were absolutely awesome. I was able to pull off the coveted "David Hasslehoff diving board backwards blast", which involves getting her to ride you reverse-cowgirl style while you hang off the diving board in the deep end. It really gets chicks going. However, things took a turn for the worse when, while watching her shadow bounce about on my pounding pole, I noticed the silhouette of a large, speeding pickup truck pull into the driveway.
My first thought was immediately that this was a disaster waiting to happen. My second thought was that if I really concentrated, I could let loose a load of cock-mustard into her before anyone was the wiser. So I went to work, pounding away at her like I was mincing chop meat with my penis.
Before I could un-attach myself, Star's mother cam roaring into the backyard. She looked like Roseanne Arnold after a six day bender- but I could see where she got the jugs from. What resulted was something out of a bad lifetime movie, as "Roseanne" went on and on about being disrespected and Star, who was naked and just as mangled as I was, slurring her words and telling her mother that it was her life and that she love me….Whoops.
Then her, father appeared. He looked like Bill Goldberg if he had been born with clef palate. He was a man of few words. He walked right over to the deep end, where I was trying to stroke myself off into the pool filter so I wouldn't be getting out of the pool with an erection so stiff you could run a flag up it.
"Boy, get out the pool I'll take you home," he said.
I didn't want to argue with a man the size of Montana, so I agreed. All the time this was happening, mother and daughter were still screaming at each other like Maurey Povitch was taping it, and Star was still butt naked. Her juggs bounced when she said anything particularly emphatic.
After clumsily dressing myself and making sure I had my wallet and some condoms, I followed this huge man to what I supposed would be certain death.
"Where you live boy?"
"Well, actually, I'm staying in a tent...."
After 40 minutes of really, really awkward silence, this mammoth of a man dropped me off in front of my tent, where my buddies still hadn't returned from their night of mirth.
"If I see you again, I'll gut you like a fish, boy" was my goodbye from this man. I was certain he was going to rape and murder me.
Upon walking into an empty tent, I realized I had some unfinished business, and particularly a bad case of blue balls…which I proceeded to take care of promptly.
Of all the developments of the 20th century pornography has to be among the greatest. No matter what our individual beliefs or values may be, all red-blooded American males share an admiration for fornicating folk heroes like John Holmes, Peter North and Long Dong Silver. Sure, maybe I don't have a 13 inch dong that I look at in the mirror while muttering inspirational slogans to myself, but why shouldn't I be able to videotape some lucky girl slurping down a bowl of my man chowder?
With many of today's slutty stars already adhering to this trend (Paris, Pam Anderson, the chick from that reality show and soon to be Brittany ) it is much easier these days to get your woman to agree to this. A few years back I brought the idea up to my then girlfriend (from the threesome blog) and she loved it. We brought the camera over to my place, performed some of the worst acting this side of any Keaneau Reeves film, kissed, licked, sucked and hammered away at each other until I was ready to deliver the money shot. I stood up and positioned my crotch right at her face and just as I was about to spray her with my Manthrax something happened. I was living in an on campus apartment at the time and there were three bedrooms in the apartment with two of us living in each room. My roommate had disappeared a few days earlier and I hadn't heard from him since. Right as I was about to put the finishing touch on my Oscar worthy picture he came home and burst right into the room, ready to tell tales of his three day bender (an utterly ridiculous story in its own right). The shock of this sudden intrusion caused me to turn suddenly but it was too late to stop. Instead of dousing my girlfriend's face with a pint of liquid love, I caught my roommate right on his shirt, pants and shoes. I was frozen. I couldn't move nor could I stop cumming. My girlfriend laughed hysterically as my roommate screamed in horror. He ran out of the room and the apartment while stripping out of his semen covered clothes and screaming "I just got jizzed on!" I stood in disbelief, more upset about my movie being ruined than cumming on my male roommate. The best/worst part? I got the entire money shot on film. Somehow, and without realizing it, I got a perfect shot of the entire incident.
One last thing: if your girl isn't down with the whole idea, or if you just bring random sluts home constantly, find a spot in the closet to set up a tripod to film your excursion secretly. Just be sure to position her correctly while pounding her with your Beef Bayonet. I'd also suggest watching some movie sex scenes to get a few ideas of how to act in front of the camera, maybe that hooker scene from American Psycho or anything from 8 Millimeter if you're a sick lunatic.
Creating your own homemade masterpiece can be a lot of fun, but make sure that your door is locked and no one is around to begin with. If you're as careless as I you may end up getting too close for comfort with one of your buddies.
As a youth, I remember idolizing guys like Gordie Howe, Wayne Gretzky and Mark Messier (even though my dad always told me Messier was a turtleneck wearing pole smoker). Above all things, one of the great spectacles that all three men accomplished fairly easily was the hat-trick, or scoring 3 goals in one game. People are so in love with the concept of hitting pay dirt three times in one night that when it happens, everyone throws their sweaty, dandruff filled hats onto the ice in celebration. I don't how that stupid tradition caught on, but it probably came from Canada. Go figure.
I'm here to tell you, however, that hat tricks are not simply reserved for hockey superstars to pull off. Guys like you and me can pull off our own special kind of hat trick, that is just as difficult probably requires more skill and precision that slipping three pucks past the goalie in one night. In the world the rest of us occupy, you can accomplish a hat trick by engaging in dirty, raunchy sex with three chicks over a 24 hour span. Hookers and dead people do not count.
Committing this kind of depraved act takes a good deal of planning, and a little bit of luck. First of all, you need to have consistent piece of ass- a girl that gives it up all the time, whenever you're interested. You need to make sure she is available for a casual slam at any point during the day of your attempted hat trick. It's her flexible sex schedule that's going to be key in pulling off the two more complicated lays during the course of the day.
For me, I always liked to start off my hat trick with a morning ride (of the reverse cowgirl variety) from my busty young mistress, who had slept over the night before. Technically, tearing into a slam hole anytime after midnight on the day in question does count toward a hat trick, but I consider that cheating- very much like how an empty-net goal still counts towards the hockey hat trick. (The way I look at it, the next day doesn’t really start until your intoxication turns into a hangover.)
Either way, while you’re steady, more wholesome piece of tail is out with her friends having a blockbuster kind of night. Take a sultry young girl with flexible morals out drinking with the boys. Pump her full of tequila and false promises, and convince her to come home with you.
After a rollicking evening, which is probably a great time to try the 'oops', give her a morning dose of aunt Jemima's homegrown sex syrup, and cover her mouth with your pillow so your mom doesn't hear her wail like a sheep in heat. In my case, I immediately kicked all my hat trick victims out of my house as soon as the bang butter made landfall, because there was much preparation to do for my next conquest.
Once you drop off the mistress at the park and ride, or, at community college (high school chicks will land you an unsportsmanlike conduct penalty while trying for a hat trick), it's time to get home and prepare. I personally like to wash myself thoroughly, especially cleaning my rod. Its key not to stroke it in the shower, as you're gonna need all the ammunition in your arsenal for the conquests to come.
During the afternoon, it's time to see your sure thing. Save your money and don't buy her lunch or anything, but maybe listen to her story about her fun-filled evening with her annoying homely friends before you pork the snot out of her. I like to make the excuse that I have 'work' to do all night, so I can't spend more than an hour or two with her for the entire day.
By now it's 2pm, and there's already 2 notches my belt. The third one is always the hardest, because you've already pile drove your regular cooch, and your sporadic mistress ass. Now, you need to find a real thoroughbred for number three.
While it is often fun to go out and hunt down a fresh steer while out drinking with your wingmen, it is wise to plan ahead when pursuing glory like this. A week before your hat trick attempt, begin casual conversations with a girl you haven't seen in awhile and does not know girls #1 and #2 very well at all. If she dislikes them, it's even better. Invite her out with you and your buddies, who, after seeing you score last night, will know that you are teetering on the precipice of glory.
Your friends should to everything they can to make you look wholesome, upstanding and, "really into" girl #3. Make it seem like you haven't been laid in a month or so, even though your Johnson is recovering from back-to-back trap already. What I ended up doing was asking to go back to her place, as I am way too lazy to make sure that girl #1 didn't leave her hair clip or a broken condom floating around my room from the night before.
Now, like Cinderella, you only have until midnight to accomplish this task- so going to happy hour and shoveling booze down her throat is better.
When I first accomplished the hat trick, I did it in truly dastardly fashion. After girl #3 appeared to be randy enough to go the distance, I bought her out to my car to "show her my new stereo". It was then that the panties came off. I smashed her into a backseat like a crash test dummy, and I remember looking at the clock in the car while pummeling her vigorously to see that it was 11:53 when I dumped a half gallon of man mayonnaise into her, signaling my ultimate victory.
She went inside to go to the bathroom, and I promptly took off. She had already served her purpose, and now, I was a legend, just like Gretzky, Howe and all the rest.
After seeing your dazzling, artistically stunning performance at the Video Music Awards this weekend, and being stunned by the tautness of your body and voluptuousness of our bosom, I started thinking about you...sexually. But, by the time I had gotten halfway through zonking the zebra, all of the reviewers instantaneously began talking about how poorly you performed, and how a gerbil with head trauma could have put on a better act than you. As a lifetime fan of yours, I was shocked, and appalled by this.
From the looks of things, it may be looking like you might be in need of some work. Evidently one sub-par outing, and now no one wants to hire you. I know you've got children to support, and, with your families best interest in mind, I'd like to offer you some work.
You see, I am a young independent movie-maker and actor. I produce films that, while adult in nature, are sophisticated works of art. I can really see you excelling in one of my films, and thusly rejuvenating your career.
The project I have in mind is entitled "Hot Beef Injection," and would star the two of us. Depending on what you're comfortable with, I was thinking of spreading your legs apart like a thanksgiving turkey and pounding you like veal chop while your new single "Gimme More" is playing in the background. You've had two kids already, so I'm thinking flexibility and vaginal elasticity are not going to be an issue.
The story behind "Hot Beef Injection" is about a young, busty aspiring southern starlet (that's you) who comes to a very important "meeting" with a horny young producer (me) in my basement. I was hoping you could sport that catholic school girl number you wore when you first got big, and maybe choke down about 7 inches of my man member to start off the film. I was pondering smacking you about the face with it and calling you "Christina", but that really depends on what your publicist decides is the right move for you.
Production costs are going to be quite minimal here, as we'll be shooting on location in my mother's basement. I can offer you a tidy sum, since my only overhead costs only involve paying my buddy Brett to mop up all the awesome sauce when we finish, and to pay mom to make us some cocktail weenies (no pun intended) when we're all finished up.
Also, I was thinking that maybe, if you like the idea of performing in these kinds of films, we could maybe to a scene where you "ride the cock train," as we call it in my industry. Picture this- in the climactic scene of the film, I pull myself out of you, and then my buddies Brett, Frankie, Mohammed and Cross-Eyed Keith that their turns dousing you with bang butter. I'm talking everywhere. I picture you looking like you just got lost in a marshmallow Fluff factory when we're through with you. Then, to top it off, my large African-American friend O-Dawg comes in, and sticks twelve inches of Alabama Blacksnake into you, nearly pile driving you into oblivion.
When we're finished, you can sleep over. I already cleared it with mom. As an added incentive, I should add that I just purchased a karaoke machine and about nine magnum cans of Steel Reserve beer.
So in closing, I would really like to collaborate with you on this project. I feel that it is tantamount that your career is rejuvenated by the sight of you getting mercilessly pummeled like a streetwalker for the entire world to see. I hope to receive a prompt response, as I have been approached by Jodie Sweetin of "Full House" fame to make a similar film, but am skeptical about working with someone who has clearly not been violated and sexually degraded as many times as you have. I thank you for your consideration, and wish you all the best.
While I give my two-thumbed approval of everything from anal sodomy to depraved orgies to banging your girlfriend’s mom, I think that it's about time I actually take an aggressive stance against something. This is a popular, en vogue sex practice that, for some reason, I just can't wrap my head around- and that's "cradle robbing".
So that this doesn't become some kind of Megan's Law sob story, I am specifically targeting guys in the mid to late twenties who think it’s a solid idea to slap it around with high school chicks. You know, girls who, on a daily basis are enjoying things like study hall, pep band, and are members of the prom committee. Why certain guys are moved to spackle underdeveloped cooch with seasoned, college graduate-aged cock sauce is simply beyond me.
I understand it's thrilling to do something bad. Masturbating in the bathroom at work is bad. Even the "Kansas City Doggystyle Shuffle" or railing your boss’s daughter on his desk is bad, as long as she is old enough to play the lottery. It's a completely different thing to give a casual slam to some poor little pre-prom starlet, then rushing her home so she can make curfew, or get to driver's-ed class on time. I think most sex crimes are really not a huge deal if done with style, but it's really quite difficult to find something real appealing about dropping your girl off at school in the morning so she can make it to homeroom on time while you head to the office. It is slightly more redeeming if she attends catholic school, because those uniforms are really hot, and that probably means her dad has some cash. But, if daddy happens to come home when you’re penetrating his offspring spread eagle with her socks still on, it’s all together possible you will end up missing. He's probably not only wealthy, but also well connected and powerful, which does not bode well for you, and your pedophilic behavior. Awesome sauce is also really tough to wash out of those wool skirts, no matter how much tide you use.
The main issue here is that there is vast, wonderful sea of 18+ year old ass out there that's ripe for the taking. Now of course, this doesn’t apply to those guys who are around 19-20 years old and annihilate the occasional minor, but those guys shouldn’t be reading this blog in the first place. Chicks that are older are experienced in bed and have made important life decisions already, like choosing a college, voting, and how to shave their trap. While it's true that many young girls often go off to college to be violated and molested more times than a toddler at Neverland Ranch, it's also true that those chicks know what they're doing, and a fully developed johnson can actually fit without much effort. Trying to be the first one to tap a hot piece of tail before they get available to the masses is a lot like buying the very first Xbox and expecting it to work properly- it's almost always not worth the hype.
I mean really, who wants to shag a girl whose idea of a good pummeling is when her partner can make it through entire song from "High School Musical" without blowing his load? Shagging a high school chick after having a decent piece of older ass is like a watching a bad episode of Showtime at the Apollo after seeing The Roots in concert. Those girls flop all over your member with about as much rhythm as Clyde Drexler on Dancing with the Stars. Can you imagine being 26 years old and going to the tuxedo shop, and telling the dude you're headed to the prom? He'd probably laugh his ass off, and then call the cops.
The most prominent reason guys born while Regan was in office give for mauling young chicks that were born after Regan died is that they are an investment- and that when they're old enough to do things like buy porn and spray paint, they'll be a fine commodity to present to the world. The only issue is that is that women, by definition, depreciate in value. They to go college, eat fried food, and find a young stallion their own age that has a bigger cock than you, and doesn't have to worry about premature balding and newly sprouting grey hairs. Don’t kid yourself when you think a girl won’t cheat in college. We all know this is a scientifically proven fact that when girls get to college, they immediately find another pole to smoke. Then, your wealth of time and dozens of felonies will have all been for nothing, and, much like Matt Dillon in 'Wild Things', you’ll be left empty handed, embarrassed, and probably in jail, with only your memories and your right hand to comfort you
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.
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I was in Pennsylvania to see a Phish concert once. The venue was somewhere between a cow pasture and the edge of the freakin’ planet. I'm talking about a barren wasteland of pastures, rolling hills, and inbred people are far as the eye could see. For some reason, Phish had decided to invite thousands of horny, scantily clad people pumped full of psychedelics to this god-forsaken place to hold a concert. I was all over it like Dr. Phil in a room filled with under aged Thai schoolchildren. 
Of all the developments of the 20th century pornography has to be among the greatest. No matter what our individual beliefs or values may be, all red-blooded American males share an admiration for fornicating folk heroes like John Holmes, Peter North and Long Dong Silver. Sure, maybe I don't have a 13 inch dong that I look at in the mirror while muttering inspirational slogans to myself, but why shouldn't I be able to videotape some lucky girl slurping down a bowl of my man chowder? 
As a youth, I remember idolizing guys like Gordie Howe, Wayne Gretzky and Mark Messier (even though my dad always told me Messier was a turtleneck wearing pole smoker). Above all things, one of the great spectacles that all three men accomplished fairly easily was the hat-trick, or scoring 3 goals in one game. People are so in love with the concept of hitting pay dirt three times in one night that when it happens, everyone throws their sweaty, dandruff filled hats onto the ice in celebration. I don't how that stupid tradition caught on, but it probably came from Canada. Go figure. 
After seeing your dazzling, artistically stunning performance at the Video Music Awards this weekend, and being stunned by the tautness of your body and voluptuousness of our bosom, I started thinking about you...sexually. But, by the time I had gotten halfway through zonking the zebra, all of the reviewers instantaneously began talking about how poorly you performed, and how a gerbil with head trauma could have put on a better act than you. As a lifetime fan of yours, I was shocked, and appalled by this. 
While I give my two-thumbed approval of everything from anal sodomy to depraved orgies to banging your girlfriend’s mom, I think that it's about time I actually take an aggressive stance against something. This is a popular, en vogue sex practice that, for some reason, I just can't wrap my head around- and that's "cradle robbing".