Balls in the Mouth

One time, when I was eight years old, I made the mistake of eating grilled corn on the cob with mayonnaise and chile purchased from a local street vendor in Mexico City. Subsequently, I threw up for five days straight and stayed home re-watching Indiana Jones and Super Man movies which may not have been the worst thing, but I haven’t liked the idea of corn on the cob since. I remember another time I was watching a porno where a girl started sucking on a guy’s nut, which until then I’d never even considered asking a girl to do. I still haven’t posed that question, and after this weekend I doubt I’ll ever have the stomach to.

Beer pong is a relatively simple game with its ups and downs. A previous post of mine recalls a particular occasion in which I battled against a superior player to overcome the odds and drunkenly triumph in the greatest game ever played. However, what happened this weekend had nothing to do with winning or losing, though I suppose it had everything to do with how you play the game.

We were at our apartment with approximately 150 beers and two handles of liquor. For the first couple of hours it was literally just nine guys sitting around drinking. Thankfully two friends of the opposite sex granted us reprieve from an all night sausage fest. With them came the welcome idea of beer pong. In a true battle of the sexes we decided to do cocks vs. cunts the first game, and as hosts it was my roommate and I against these two vagina having opponents.

By this point in the night both my roommate and I were well intoxicated and our mouths were loose with wildly inappropriate commentary. Nothing was out of line for trash talking, but apparently they seemed fine with this; one of them even retaliated by bending over with each shot I took to grant me an all too personal glimpse of her milk makers. I have to say, not the worst pair of breasts I’ve laid eyes on. Regardless though, none of this was anything new, except for the girl with the exposed chest who I’d met only once before, these were all part of a rehearsed script of senseless profanity and drunkenly lobbing ping pongs balls towards beer filled plastic red cups.

The ping pong balls in use tonight had history. They had survived two apartments, three roommates and countless games of filthy water cups, grimy, sticky, dusty floors and unwashed drunken finger tips. They had character but not hygiene.

I don’t know how drunk big boobed girl was when she arrived at the party, but what followed should not be replicated on any drug. It was their turn to shoot, but “Ashley,” chest exposing girl’s partner, was immersed in a conversation with some other guests. I was just about to turn and hit the pisser while we waited when I caught it out of the corner of my eye. She held the ball delicately between her thumb and index finger, raising it to her mouth. “No” I thought. Slowly she let out her tongue while guiding the ball towards her mouth. I’m not sure whether she was doing this because she thought no one was watching, or because she thought someone was watching. What happened next I will never forget. She rolled the ball along her tongue, giving it a thorough taste bud scrubbing. Then proceeded to fully open her jowls and immerse the used ping pong into her welcoming oral orifice. This wasn’t kinky, it was revolting, reviling, and offending. I stood for a moment in complete shock, rarely am I left without a witty and inappropriate retort, but there I was dumbfounded at this girl’s actions. The next reaction of course was gut wrenching hysterical laughter. I was on the ground as this senseless girl, seemingly without realization of what she had just caressed with her mouth, laughed too.

All in all I guess what happened was horrific, but it was funny too. It was funny until a week later she came down with an incurable bacterial infection and dropped dead while riding the subway. Don’t put beer pong balls in your mouth.

Time to Kill

I don't usually watch alot of tv, especially when it comes to closely following a series. With the exception of Californication, which historically I've watched online, and Better Off Ted, the best new comedy of the year, the only thing I really watch is soccer. That all changed a couple of weeks when I discovered Dexter.

Dexter Morgan brings a face to serial killers that we've never seen before... the face of someone we root for. Sure he gets sadistic pleasure from dissecting and dismembering his victims while they're still alive and seems get off to blood like I get off to girl on girl porn, but hey he only kills murderers. That, plus we'd hate to see him get locked up because that would mean the end of a truly innovative series. Watching a man juggling responsibilities between his job as a blood splatter expert in forensics, his girlfriend and her kids, and his intrinsic need to kill on a regular basis is not only interesting, it's goddamn entertaining. His voice guides us through the show as a third person narrator meant to be the voice in his head. As an example a typical internal dialogue might go something like this, "Things to do today: Pick up Deb and the kids, stop by the station, pick up heavy duty trash bags and industrial plastic wrap, kill murder rapist after he gets off work at ten." For some reason watching an obsessed serial killer struggle with some of the same problems us non murder addicts deal with is endlessly amusing.

As I mentioned, I started watching Dexter a couple of weeks ago and have already killed the first two seasons. It's like Law and Order if the main characters were 10 times smarter, had personal lives we cared about, and spent half their time tracking murderers and subsequently killing them. If you don't try to start watching this series you should kill yourself, before Dexter does the job for you.