The Time My Stripper-Banging Column Helped A Reader Get Laid

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If you haven’t read my column about the time my roommate banged a stripper, go read it now. It will make this column slightly more entertaining.

I received an email on April 29th, the day after the aforementioned column was published, at around four o’clock in the afternoon. It was a thank you note of sorts. One of your fellow readers was able to utilize the knowledge he gained from my column and put it to practical use.

So, without further ado, here’s the story about how my column helped a reader recover from whiskey dick and accidental ass-eating.

Thank you for this article. I read it yesterday and immediately found use for it last night. I brought a girl home and after a dip in the hot tub we took things to my bedroom. After a little more foreplay a decided to go down on her because I consider myself a fairly generous person. Well that, and because she was dryer than California during the draught of ’85.

You know why she was dry? Because she was in a (hopefully) chlorinated jacuzzi. It dries out EVERYTHING. Water alone will wash away any natural lubrication and a hot tub will dehydrate you. Fucking science lesson for you chumps right there. I’m not sure why you chose the drought of ’85, though. California is about to break off of the United States right now because it’s so dry.

So I tossed her legs over my head so I could really get into it, and mind you I’m very drunk at this point. I went down into the abyss of darkness in my room to suck some box up. It was about 15 seconds in to it when I peaked up to see a very inquisitive partner. Turns out that I had yet again mistakenly licked up some ass like I was trying to get the the chocolaty center of a tootsie pop. Unsurprisingly, the faint taste of shit in your mouth does not assist the Evan Williams in keeping a hard on.

Well, I just threw up. A couple times, actually. This isn’t even the first time this has happened to you? You poor bastard. Abyss of darkness? What kind of Gandalf-sleeved snatch are you dealing with here, man?

After struggling for 3 or 4 minutes at attempting to raise the flag back up the pole, my partner asked what I would like to do. I recalled your story, and promptly responded “I would like to mouth fuck the shit out of you” (looking back on it that phrase it seems a little overzealous seeing as I had just tongue punched the fart box).

So, I threw up again. Jesus Christ, you never ask for that. It’s just not polite. Overzealous is an understatement. And how could you “mouth fuck the shit out of her” if you’d already eaten it all. Wait for it…there it is.

After a little bit of skull fucking I was able to hop back on that saddle and ride her like John Travolta in Urban Cowboy. So thank you and your friend again for the words of advice.

I have very mixed emotions right now. On one hand, something I wrote helped a reader in need of a “self-esteem boost,” shall we say. It’s nice to know you make a difference in the world. On the other hand, I fear I’ve started a repugnant trend of over-engaged fellatio as a cure for male performance issues. Just snort some boner pills to keep your shit up like my friends did on spring break. You fuckers are sick, twisted human beings.

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