Echihuahua on the Casting Couch!

Posted: December 12, 2008 in casting couch, poop


Oh joy!

I get out of doing another post!!

Today, I have the honor of having Echodo…Echeechandchong…E-coli…

* pause…deep breath…

E Chuod

* phew

…on the Mental Poo Casting Couch.

If YOU want to do a guest spot, all you have to do is:

1) show up
2) send me a decent post about anything
3) toss my salad and call me a well-hung bitch

#2 is the only requirement.

However, I’ll really pimp your shit if you can swing #3. If you do the little swirly thing with your pinky while you’re in there, like E Chuod did, you get bonus points. **

** Bonus points mean nothing

Thanks in advance.

Without further ado, I bring you E Chuod’s guest post!

*******************
Yo Moog.

I’ve been reading you for a while. I decided to start my own blog. I put together a guest post for you if you like it. My blog is Oh, Was That The Line?

Let me know if it sux too. I can take it.

Thanks.

E Chuod

Title: Nearly Had A Blowout

I was recently on a business trip in a US state that is BIG.

Since I don’t drink (Don’t judge me, you don’t want this F’d up mind wandering around on a booze induced freak fest) I volunteered [read: was told to be] to be the designated driver.

We went to a fun little bar. In a city I’ll call Fallas (Sneaky, I know). A couple of women were impressed by the European accents of my buddies and I used to opportunity to land myself next to this cute (chubby) chick at the bar.

The evening went well enough and when it was time to go, the cute (chubby) girl announced she was too drunk to drive back to my hotel.

Bitch.

I couldn’t leave my drunken buddies hanging, so the boys and I loaded into the rental car and headed about 20 miles back to the hotel.

We were only ½ mile from the hotel exit when one of the drunkards in the back seat shouts out, “Dude! Pull over!”

What!?!?

I’m on the F’ing highway. I ask if he has to puke.

Drunk: I’m gonna shit my pants

Me: What? We’re almost to the hotel, can’t you wait?

Drunk: Seriously Dude, pull the F over!

(Why is it that drunk guys insist on saying “Dude” every 5 seconds?)

Entire car: Just hold on man, we’re almost there.

Drunk: (Almost crying): Dude, I don’t wanna shit my pants.

Me: (Laughing): Ok, Ok here’s a restaurant.

So drunk shitty guy runs/limps/hobbles into the restaurant to try and save what little dignity he has remaining.

I step out of the car for a smoke and notice European buddy is taking a piss on the back tire of the rental car. Brilliant.

A few minutes later Drunk guy comes out of the restaurant with a stupid grin on his face.

As we are loading into the car, I notice that the restaurant girls are locking the doors of the place.

Awesome.

A bunch of hot 19 year olds couldn’t close the place and go home…

…until my A hole buddy got done blowing the place up.

Fantastic.

We made it home with no further incidents.

Over the next week, drunk (now sober) guy decides it would be a good idea to fill me in on the many many times he’s nearly shit his pants. That’s exactly the kind of info I needed.

Thanks.

Can’t wait to DD for you guys again.

Oh, and don’t worry drunk guy, your secret is safe with me.

**********************

Thanks, E Chuod!

For a minute there, I was seriously starting to think that this was Kristin again.

I’m not quite sure why this happens, but the majority of guest posts I get are usually about people shitting themselves.

I roll with the wrong people.

Check out E’s site, Oh, Was That the Line? He’s a pretty funny guy.

Moog out.

*******************

Want to do a guest post for me?

Shoot me an email here and let me know
!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s