Do you ever speak X rated??
I don’t know about you, maybe it is just me and all the people that I hang out with, but our BBQ talk seems to devolve.
You know, I have always wanted to have one of those BBQ’s, where we wear little polo shirts and polo skirts and there is white linen and crystal wine glasses to sip from.
Where music is gently playing in the background, children are minded by all of their own nannies so that the adults can have hi-flutin’ conversations.
Discussions about the state of the economy, whether or not your Rolls Royce is stocked with Grey Poupon, the cost of domestic help, how my 1% salary can influence small countries.
You know, shit like that.
Instead, most of my BBQ’s look something like this.
Conversations revolve around how fake titties really feel.
What have you ever pulled out of someone’s ass (remember most of my friends are either cops or firemen)
The grossest dead body that you have ever seen
Old people in nighties rubbing against you
Taking pictures of the size of your shit to show your friends, cause, Dude it was EPIC – it breached out of the water.
Can you really spin a midget on your penis?
Regurgitation of what space docking, Portuguese breakfast, goatse, and other strange internet phenomena’s. Also, you must Google and then show said BBQ friends on your iPhone. (Note to blog readers: DO NOT ATTEMPT, ONCE LEARNED, IT CAN NOT BE UNLEARED)
The shows with people’s strange addictions, real dolls, and what type of vibrators you own. (Note to party friends – Bringing out said appliances is NOT socially acceptable)
Why people like to pretend to be horses, have naked people saddle them and ride them. (Personal thoughts – I don’t like to get dusty naked)
Making techno music noises why you show me your best stripper pole dancing impersonation (and no, this is not the girls doing this)
Also bringing out your old furrbie costume to show me you still have mad skills kind of ewws me out. I do NOT want to feel how soft it is and really the crusty patches made me kind of vom in my mouth!
After writing all of this out, I think I will take the X rated parties – at least I know here my bellowing out F-U-C-K will be answered back with a I’ll beer ‘ya call.
(PS - Newt if you are reading this, I promise (hand to God) to not blog his name or take pictures if you will invite him over. I've got serious questions that need to be answered)