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Keeping it TREAL

by | January 14, 2010 | In Editorial, Funny 1 Comment

Shit I think my best drunken sex story took place up by Northwestern.

But before I start, this never happened, I wasn’t there, and if you know anybody who thinks they might have suffered due to this event, just tell them I channeled psychically it all via the Prophet Marvos from the Isle of Lemuria.

Which is true.

Anyway, one of my boy’s had a good friend called Chance who is a master at macking girls. I mean, it’s ridiculous. Whenever I heard tell of a party via Chance, I knew it was a good thing to try and get my ass to, even if it meant an hour and a half on the El or whatever. Why?

Chance got so many broads horny there was hope of catching collateral booty.

Looking back, though, I think Chance didn’t even make it to this one. There was a period he didn’t like coming out if me and a few others were gonna be there, seeing how as we would fill any idle moment between hovering around the keg and looking for booty with stuffing our pockets full of the other kind of booty, doing indoor graffiti (very avant garde), pouring the contents of people’s refrigerators into people’s toasters, stealing more stuff, peeing into the trashcan next to the toilet, etc. We were kind of like… I don’t know… mean fellers I guess really is all you can say. Chance, in spite of his adamantine game, probably found being held responsible for the actions of a herd of urukai in saggy jeans a bit of a cockblock.