all time best stories [Archive]

mute

01-08-2004, 04:57 AM

I'm travelling around Thailand with my brother, Cameron and Hartt. So far I've heard some stories from them that are 'claims to fame'. I would be very proud of some of them if it was me.

For example, the one I would be most proud of is Hartt's story from Vietnam. One night they were at a Vietnamese club and Hartt was leaving to walk back to the place they were staying at. Upon exiting he was greeted by a few Vietnamese hookers, you know the line, "Me love you long time, me make you horny!"

Hartt politely said no thanks, or fuck off, I can't remember. But I guess these little hookers are persistant. So they started following him trying to convince him, feeling him up and he noticed they were trying to grab his wallet. He immediately grabbed one by arm and said told her he's taking her to the police (I'm not really sure if was going to, or he was just trying to piss them off). But he succeeded in pissing them off, making the other hookers take off on a scooter. He continued to drag the hooker to the police and was approached by her pimp. The funny thing is Hartt is a big guy, and the pimp couldn't do shit because he was a small fry. So he negotiated with Hartt, and Hartt sold the hooker back to him for what was an equivilant to 10 Canadian dollars.

He stole a pimp's hooker, and sold her back to him. That's just a classic sotry in my books.

Cruise Director

01-09-2004, 12:09 AM

I love a good hooker story :)

/me puts on the storyteller hat.

We were on a football trip to the wonderfully warm State of California. We had spent all day Saturday and sunday in San Fransisco and caught an early flight on Monday to San Diego to watch the Chargers play on Monday Night Football. There were six of us who started the trip, five who actually made it to the Monday night game and only four who could party hard enough and long enough to take the trip to Tijuana after the game. You see, not that they were wussies, but one actually had a business meeting in San Diego at 8 a.m. on Tuesday and one had stomach ulsers. Apparently three days of drunkeness and hot wings isn't good for a bad tummy.

So promptly follwing the game Stacy, Kyle, Scott and myself jump on the trolley and head for the border. We arrived in T.J. around 11 p.m. and let the games begin! We were already past drunk when we got there but the 2 for 1 tequilla specials are far too good to pass up. Consumption. More consumption. Followed by more consumption.

Now, while all of this "consuming" was going on, we were cruising the different dance clubs and bars. We happened in to one of the many fine gentlemen's clubs for a little 'hoochie mamma' action. Boy, did we ever get it.

Our fine warrior Kyle had accidently divulged that he had never done poppers. What I call poppers is when some bastard tilts your head back, starts blowing a whistle and starts pouring large amounts of shitty alcohol down your throat. When you start to spit it back up, they start shaking your head violently. I think this is to give you a brief preview of how your head will be spinning in the near future. I found the little bandido with the tequilla bottles and the whistle and gave him ten bucks to get Kyle in to projectile vomiting mode. He proceeded to chase Kyle around the bar while the remaining three of us took a seat to watch the scantily clad (read: naked) girl dance on stage. It took about a tenth of a second for the hookers to swarm to us. Apparently "friendly" is in their motto. We sent them all packing and tried to enjoy the entertainment. All but Kyle; he was too busy walking briskly around the outside ring of the bar to avoid the tequilla man to be bothered with hookers.

Finally a woman sat down on Stacys' lap. She started fondling his junk and telling him what a good time he could have with her. "No, I'm okay, but there's your guy right there." His finger was pointed directly at me. She hopped on to my lap faster than I could even attempt to say no thank you. She had her hands down my pants in a split second and was giving me the same line she gave Stacy. I was amazed at the sincerity in her voice. She must have really loved me. I pointed at Scott and let her know that HE was the one without a girlfriend and how we specifically came here to get HIM laid. It worked. She was off of my and on him like white on rice. I went back to enjoying the art show (read:naked girls) when I saw Scott stand up and yell "hey!" The hooker was out the door faster than any human being could have been. "Her hand was in my pocket; she took my money!" Being the friends we are, we started pointing and laughing as Scott attempted to go after her. The bouncers at the door had other plans and let Scott know that he really wasn't welcome to follow her. Nice racket. As I'm laughing I go in to my own pocket to discover that said hooker has lifted all of my cash, too. Immediately the laughter stops. Stacy checks his and he is now 50 bucks lighter, too.

The only person left with a dollar to his name would be our fearless, popper avoiding warrior, Kyle. He is our only hope of getting back to the border (cab) and getting back from the border to our hotel (another cab.) We leave the bar and start balancing our budget to make sure we have enough money. Being drunk, however, we had to stop at the taco stand and get about a million of the little dog tacos they sell there. I think they equate to about 4 cents each and we ate about a million of them. Men have priorities, you know.

We made it back to the hotel without much incident. Stacy, to this day, swears up and down he never got rolled by a hooker. I freely admit she took 40 bucks off of me. I figure she was just doing her job and I paid for a pretty good story. Scott tends to be on the same page as me.

As for Kyle, he's still never had a popper.