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  1. #1
    MANWHORE TEAM suede's Avatar
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    Funniest thing ever...

    http://www.tuckermax.com/

    This guy is hilarious...some of these stories just wow...

  2. #2
    MANWHORE TEAM suede's Avatar
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    NWS btw for some stories just in case, no bad pics or nothing tho

  3. #3
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    Pewter Metallic
    2002 Trans Am WS6 M6 D1SC

    Ive read some before and Im reading some more now

  4. #4
    Desert Boat Guy SouthernBornThriller's Avatar
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    Black 2002 T/A M6
    Green 1997 Ram 4x4



    Just finished reading the buttsex story...I havn't laughed this hard since Keith Richards falling out of a tree was all over the news..

  5. #5
    MANWHORE TEAM suede's Avatar
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    the trip to austin one is great i gott a past some of it here

  6. #6
    MANWHORE TEAM suede's Avatar
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    I try to stagger back to my seat when a very hot, voluptuous stripper grabs me by the belt loops and pulls me towards her. She has a skin tight tiger-stripe body suit that is virtually painted on her. To say that her breasts were spilling out would be to imply that this outfit covered them at some point. Her J-Lo booty smiles at me, and I smile back. It takes me a few seconds to find her eyes. The gobs of silver glitter eye shadow smeared on her face make it difficult to locate them quickly. She says something to me, but I don't understand it. I pretend to listen for about 3 minutes, then I interrupt her:

    "If I were dating you, I'd never leave the house. I'd never even leave your general vaginal area. Unless it were to come on your face."

    She thinks I am funny. She really wants to give me a dance. I tell her I am a starving lawyer, and can't afford one. But there is something about her. Maybe it's the lighting, maybe it's her aggressive attitude, maybe it's her ghetto booty, maybe it's her 36 DD fake breasts pressing against me...maybe it's the 3 margaritas, 6 beers and 15 vodka clubs, but she just strikes me in that right way.

    I guess she saw the acquiescence in my eyes, because without any further deliberation, at least that I can remember, she drags me back to a secluded booth in the rear of the club and starts dancing. By this time, I'm so drunk I even know I'm drunk.

    Another great feature of Baby Dolls: The strippers encourage you to touch their boobies. I exploit this privilege ruthlessly. I grabbed both her beautifully fake breasts full on. I was kneading her tits so hard all I needed was a little water and some active dry yeast and I could have made bread. Towards the end of the dance I was actually trying to pop the saline implants. Those things are pretty durable.

    Finished, she snuggles herself up against me, breasts right under my chin,

    Big Tits "Do you want to go somewhere...more private?"
    Tucker "Yeah...sure...for what...?"
    Big Tits "If we get a champagne room, we can do anything we want."
    Tucker "Anything?"
    Big Tits "Anything."
    Tucker "OK."
    Big Tits "It's 300 for the room, plus usually about 100 dollars more. Depending...but you're cute."
    Tucker "So...400 total?"
    Big Tits "Uh huh."

    I pause and contemplate. Somewhere milling around my frontal lobes I can vaguely recall a moral dilemma I might have with this situation...provided I were sober enough to recall what exactly the tenets of my ethical system were. Or even what an ethical system was.

    This drunk, I could only consider price. Thank you University of Chicago economics classes.

    Tucker "I'll give you 20 dollars."
    Big Tits laughed. "No. It's 400, baby."
    Tucker "Okay...22 dollars."
    Big Tits "Well, you're cute and funny; I'll do it for 350."
    Tucker "25."
    Big Tits "325?"
    Tucker "No, just 25."
    Big Tits "I have to give the club 100 to get the room for an hour."
    Tucker "I can't last an hour...I'll give you 28."

    This went on for at least 10 more minutes before we finally settled on a price.

    $55. For a half hour.

    I could write a book on negotiation. And as drunk as I was, you can believe she earned her $5.

    When I found my friends, two hours and $55 later, they were out in the parking lot eating sloppy joe's they bought from a guy selling them out of the back of his Chevette. Needless to say, they were aghast. But in my vodka-addled brain, I had a defensible position:

    "Dude, I had to. How could I pass up a bargain like that?"

  7. #7
    MANWHORE TEAM suede's Avatar
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    El Bing "Guys, you see this thing? [pointing to the game] It is called 'The Shocker.' You hold these metal handles here, and it sends an ever increasing charge of electricity through you. As the wattage increases, so does your score, and if you can hold it all the way to the end, you win...something. And this guy, [Jethro], thinks he can do it."

    Tucker "What do you win?"
    SlingBlade "A free electroshock treatment, apparently."
    PWJ "You can't hold that for more than a few seconds."
    Jethro "Fuck dat; ike'an doit."
    El Bing "OK man, give it your best shot. Here, we'll even put the money in."

    As PWJ put the dollar in the machine and the redneck rubbed his hands together and mentally prepared himself, I pulled El Bingeroso aside. He was giggling like a Japanese school girl in a Hello Kitty store.

    Tucker "Dude, who is this kid? What the hell is going on?"
    El Bing "I saw him staring at this thing and I bet him he couldn't do it. He got all worked up. Dude--I've seen this thing knock out 250 pound guys before. They were outlawed in Nebraska! THIS IS AWESOME!"

    The youthful redneck firmly planted his feet, rubbed his face, spit into his hands and then rubbed them together and then wiped them on his shirt. We started cheering him on,

    Tucker "Eye of the tiger!"
    PWJ "What does not kill you makes you stronger!"
    SlingBlade "There is no spoon!"
    El Bingeroso "YEAAAAHHHH!"

    He muttered some inspirational phrases to himself, pressed the start button and grabbed the two metal handles. For the first few seconds he was fine...

    Then his arms started shaking.
    Then his shoulders.
    Then his torso.
    Then his head.
    Then his mouth began frothing and spitting saliva everywhere.
    Then this strange, guttural, animalistic groan emerged from him. Still gripping the handles, his whole body was in violent convulsions when an older woman pulled him off of the machine. He fell to the ground and she yelled at him,

    "Jethro, git away from that'n thang. Thar makin funna YEW!"

    I don't know if I have ever laughed so hard in my life. I was laying on the hot asphalt of the Texas State Fair, curled up in a ball, tears streaming out of my face as I held my stomach muscles and convulsed in laughter. I was able to look up and see the confused, blank look on Jethro's face as his mother led him off, wiping the spit off of his face, his arms still twitching slightly.

    I really hope that God has the capacity for forgiveness that Christians claim, because I am going to test the absolute outer limits.

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