Back when I was dating Doggie Style (DS) – around ‘96 or ‘97 – we spent Thanksgiving at my parents’ house.

After dinner, me and my brothers were in the kitchen doing dishes. My mom had delegated this chore in exchange for our meals. I don’t think she trusted our cleaning habits, though, because she stayed to supervise.

My dad was taking a nap in his recliner. My grandma was watching TV with DS, who was rocking my 1-year old niece to sleep.

My dad had one of those huge satellite dishes that got every channel on the planet. I guess DS didn’t like the program they were watching, so she began to surf through the channels.

All of a sudden I heard a scream, and rushed into the living room to see what was going on. My dad was waking up from his nap. My grandma’s eyes were glued to the television, and DS was begging me to pick up the remote on the floor, while she clutched my niece.

I looked at the TV to find a naked chick on all-fours getting every hole filled by a cock. I’m mean, this was a straight-up gang bang she had stumbled upon.

I quickly grabbed the remote, and turned off the TV.

But I never forgave DS for that day. Not because she had subjected my grandma to hardcore porn – but because my dad put a password on the porn channels after we left.

Get yourself an egg and beat it.

Who has more street cred?

Some days have more meaning than others, especially after you’ve lost someone close to you. But it’s important to remember the good times, and let the bad ones go.

Here, let me give you an example:

Dad

Good Time:

Our family met in Panama City Beach a month before he passed away. Late one Saturday afternoon, he told me and Lil’ Bro that he wanted to go fishing.

Middle Bro already had the boat out on the ocean. Dad called his cell phone, and told him to meet us at the marina in an hour.

We headed out – Lil’ Bro was driving – I was riding shotgun – and dad was in the back.

The silence was broken when the guy in the back said, “Daddy’s drunk.”

“How did you get drunk? You were with mom by the pool all day. And she’d kick your ass if she knew you were drinking,” I replied.

“I spent most of my day drinking beer with the guys. What? Did you think we were actually grilling something over there?”

“Well, that explains why you didn’t kiss her good-bye.”

“Hey, stop by the store! We need some bait!” he yelled from the back seat.

And by bait, he meant beer.

When we finally made it to the marina, Middle Bro was waiting for us.

“Where have you guys been?” he asked.

“Ask dad,” I replied.

Once we were out on the water, Middle Bro explained how he had taken a shit over the side of the boat.

“No, you didn’t,” I told him.

“Do you see my socks?”

Seriously.

Bad Time:

Dad came home from work to find me chasing Lil’ Bro around the house. Oh, and Lil’ Bro was clutching his piggy bank.

You see, back when ESPN first hit the airwaves, they would replay college basketball games the following afternoon.

Lil’ Bro was unaware of the programming lineup – so we would bet on the games – and I’d always give him just a couple of points less than he needed to cover the spread.

When his greenbacks finally ran out, I had to strong-arm his ass to pay up. That’s when dad walked in. He grounded me for a week, and made me give back the money.

That night at dinner, Lil’ Bro just smirked at me across the table, while shoveling tuna casserole into his mouth.

I wonder who he likes tonight.

So many things I wanna say to him. But I just placed a rose on his grave, and I talk to the wind.

The Dentist with a Guinness

I met some buddies at Trainwreck last week, and ran into JR – Dentist to the Stars (of Branson).

I think being a dentist in the Ozarks would be a pretty sweet gig. I mean, most of your patients only have a few teeth, so cleanings would be a breeze. And you might get paid in moonshine on occasion. Sweet.

There was another guy there I see about once a year. For his safety, let’s just call him Bob.

You see, years ago, I was on the way to bet the Kentucky Derby. I knew Bob went to school about 45 minutes off the beaten path, so I stopped by campus.

After looking for almost an hour, I found his dorm and called his room from the lobby.

“WTF are you doing?” he asked.

“We’re going to bet the derby,” I replied.

“We’re not going anywhere. I’m hungover. But have fun.”

Long story short – we left about fifteen minutes later.

We never made it to the horse races because the dog track had a matinee card – Hello – and was a lot closer.

Don’t worry about the derby. I called my bookie, and bet $20 across the board on the eventual winner.

Anyway, we were over-served at the dog track, and made a foolish decision to drive home. Actually, that decision was made by me.

I got pulled over by the po-po on the way home. Now let me say here, I don’t condone drinking and driving. I was young and stupid back then. But the lure of cheap beer and trifecta boxes had clouded my judgment.

The state trooper asked me to get out of the car, and put me through some field sobriety tests.

“You seem intoxicated to me,” he said.

“Well, that can’t be good,” I responded.

“Has your buddy been drinking?”

I looked at Bob sitting shit-faced in the passenger seat, and said, “No.”

“Why are you driving if you’ve been drinking, and he hasn’t?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, I’ll let you guys go if he drives.”

“Thanks.”

I walked back to the car and said, “Don’t say a word. Just get in the driver’s seat, and we’re out of here.”

“I’m not driving,” he replied.

The trooper was staring at us. I just smiled and waved.

“He doesn’t think you’ve been drinking.”

“You are unbelievable.”

Bob walked around the front of the car, and also waved to the cop. The cop waved back, and off we went.

Apparently Bob didn’t have much experience driving a fine automobile like a 5-speed Ford Escort. He had a little trouble getting her out of 1st and 2nd gear, but we were mobile.

He pulled off at the next exit after watching the patrol car turn around in the rear-view mirror.

“You take it from here.”

“Okee dokee.”

Here’s where the story gets a little fuzzy. I don’t remember this – shocker – but we went to a party on campus when we got back. Bob was dating this cute little redhead, who was with us.

I swear I could pass a polygraph, but he claims I was hitting on her. To make matters worse, I allegedly told her that our romantic tryst came with Bob’s blessing.

“Did you say it was okay if Benny slept with me?”

This story seems a little far-fetched to me. But, hey, like I said, I was young and stupid back then.

And if I remember correctly, she was pretty hot.

I . . . Who took the money? Who took the money away? I . . . It’s always show time. Here at the edge of the stage.

That last post was pretty lame because (a) I was using Gina Party’s new $350 Facebook Machine and she was rushing me so she could look at her wall, and (b) I didn’t tell the reason behind what I wrote.

You see, the “ex”-girlfriend noticed I had removed her as a friend on Facebook. And she wasn’t too happy when she found out. In my defense, I did it in an effort to move on. I could have kept her on the list, and followed what she did everyday. But that’s called stalking.

Gina didn’t understand it either when I told her. But her views on dating and relationships are somewhat skewed. She’s doesn’t play by the same set of rules as the rest of us. Most people don’t know this, but she watches nothing but drama shows – mostly on the Lifetime. You would think that someone with so much drama in her real life would need a little comedy relief. I think it just adds fuel to her fire.

I gave in to the pressure, though, and added the “ex” back as a friend. I think that’s the right thing to do, you know, since I’ve peed on her a few times, and all.

I was on a float trip with Lil’ Bro’s friends a few years ago. For those of you not in Missouri, we think it’s fun spending a day drinking beer in a canoe. Anyway, we had stopped on a landing to take a break. I had to relieve myself, so I walked away from the group and disappeared behind a tree.

I noticed one of the wives walking towards me with a camera. I knew what she was doing, so I quickly began fluffing myself.

“Can I take a picture of it?” she asked.

“Sure,” I replied as I turned around with my dick cupped in my hand.

“Oh, my,” she said.

Click.

She looked at the camera to make sure she had gotten the shot, and walked away.

A couple of weeks later, the picture was passed around a party. The ladies looked in amazement, and a legend was born. Let this be a lesson to every guy – Never let someone take a picture of your dick unless it’s standing at half-staff.

Drink – I said staff.

- One week left to vote for The Summer of Benny as Best Blog in the Riverfront Times – Best of St. Louis 2009.

Got me the strangest woman. Believe me this trick’s no cinch. But I really get her going, when I whip out my big 10 inch.

King’s infamous cooler – July 4, 2009

Damn, I thought I beat Tom. How many did he have? King’s writing got a little shaky late in the day. The best part was how he refused to put a tick mark on the cooler until the beer was popped.

Update: Tom’s count overlapped Maribeth’s. I knew he didn’t drink 37 beers.

I was busy this afternoon, so I didn’t get a chance to catch the asshole who stole my sandwich. The generic brand of laxative powder I bought was a little expensive. But I hope they shit themselves on their way home.

I played a similar prank on someone the summer before my sophomore year in high school. I had gone to the lake with the cross country team.

Yes, I used to be a runner. Why is that so hard to believe? I can still beat half of you going any distance over a mile.

Okay, that’s probably not going to happen.

Anyway, I was the only sophomore on the team. Jimmy J was a year older, and a nice enough guy – just a bit annoying at times.

Don’t start with me (ex)-girlfriend.

All he talked about the whole weekend was how he was turning 16 on Sunday. A bunch of us went into the town the night before. I bought a pack of Chicklets gum. I also bought some Feenamint laxative gum.

I knew Jimmy J would be asking for a piece. So I gave the Chicklets to the other guys, and then stuffed the box full of laxative.

After he begged for a few minutes, I finally handed the box to him. He emptied the whole thing. The instructions said to take 1-2 pieces. He took all eight.

I noticed him blowing bubbles around the campfire as we waited for the spaghetti dinner to cook. And I knew the fuse had been lit.

After we ate, he was talking to Coach about his prospects of making varsity. All of sudden his eyes got big, and he started running down the dirt path to the public restrooms.

Coach didn’t know what was happening, but the rest of us followed. Jimmy J stopped halfway, and exploded in the woods.

A few minutes later he managed to make it the rest of the way. I had removed all of the toilet paper, and we found him spread eagle in shower rinsing off.

He finished last in the time trials the next day.

Apparently, it’s difficult to run fast with your left hand trying to hold your butt cheeks together.

You probably noticed I’ve been adding videos at the end of each post the last couple of weeks. I mean, the post titles are songs, and I close with a few lyrics – so why not add a video of the song?

Well, I found them to be a little overwhelming to the overall experience. And I want my drunkenness and immaturity to really pop off the screen.

- Reasons why not to use Internet Explorer. This isn’t funny – just trying to help.

- I can see me using this word a lot. Thanks, Mr. O.

- Donnie Baker’s Tips to Skip School.

Are you worried what your friends see? Will it ruin your reputation lovin’ me?

Screw it. I’ve got nothing tonight, so let’s go with the story of Big Butthole Girl.

I had a crush on this chick all through high school. I finally nailed her my first summer back from college. She had gone to another school, and somehow managed to remain a virgin. I had done the same. Wink.

We became an item after our first night together. And by item, I mean she craved my boner all the time.

One drunken night, I was enjoying her company from behind, and my joystick fell out. I plugged the fellar back in, but she began to moan in pain.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“You’ve never put in there before,” she screamed back.

At this point in the story, you should know I don’t have a small penis. I mean, I’m no Long Dong Silver. But the five women I’ve been with have told me I’m above average. Wink.

When the night of mistaken identity was over, I drove home and noticed a foul odor on the way. I didn’t need Encyclopedia Brown to figure out what it was.

I knew my dad would be up for work soon, so a shower was out of the question. I went to the basement (again), and began to lift weights.

As luck would have it, he had to get a shirt out of the dryer.

“What the hell is that smell, boy?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I smell it, too. Do you think the sewer backed up, or something?”

“You been drinking?”

“No.”

“Don’t wake your mother.”

“Okay.”

I took a shower as soon as he left.

My love affair with Big Butthole Girl ended a few weeks later after I waited for her outside the bathroom. When she saw me standing there, she looked like a deer in headlights.

I walked past her, closed the door, and damned near puked. There was a stain around the toilet bowl that can only be described as the Shit Rings of Saturn.

And my mom always blamed me for ruining the toilet.

Stupidity Tax Offense: Walking into the men’s room to find all of the urinals are taken, and saying, “Looks like a full house.” Cha Ching! – $10.

SOB Translation of the Day

Quote: “Man, when my gurl ain’t around, I be straight up kickin’ it.”

Translation: “I cheat on my girlfriend.”

- The Office “Diversity Day” Promo

And wake up to a brand new day. To find your dreams have washed away.

I saw a couple of kids riding their bikes last weekend. Both were wearing helmets. One looked like he was ready for a motocross race.

We didn’t wear bike helmets when I was a kid. I don’t even think they made them back then. If they did, nobody I knew had one.

Shit, I remember building a takeoff and landing ramp. And then making Lil’ Bro and his buddy lay between them while I jumped over their dumb asses like I was Evil Knievel.

I only made three successful jumps before mom ran out and asked what the hell I was doing.

There really isn’t a good way to explain why you put your brother in harm’s way because it made you laugh.

That story reminded me of a few others from that era. 

One day, I got me and my two younger brothers kicked out of the YMCA day camp. Some little dweeb was crying, and I “allegedly” made the situation worse.

My parents were pissed because mom worked days, and dad worked nights.

So, we ended up being on our own during the day while he slept.

I was at the age where I was probably old enough to babysit the little turds. But age doesn’t always translate into maturity.

Really?

Here are a few highlights from that summer:

1. The Prank Call
   The police called my mom at work because I had been making prank calls to the bitch that kicked us out of day camp. I wish I had her number right now. 
2. The Toaster
   I convinced Middle Bro to keep pushing the toast down until it caught on fire. He used a glass of water to put it out. Thankfully, the glass didn’t touch the toaster.
3. The Suntan Lotion
   The three of us chased each other around the house playing “Suntan Lotion Tag”. Instead of using our hands, we shot suntan lotion out of the bottles. Unfortunately, some (and by some, I mean a lot) got on the new wallpaper. My parents garnished our allowances for a year.
4. The Snowfall
   Rainy days were the worst because we became bored pretty quickly. The only video game at our disposable was Pong. But one day we made our own fun by throwing flour into the air and pretended like it was snowing. We tried cleaning up the mess, but flour leaves a nasty residue on appliances. Boy, you learn something new every day.

- Whack-A-Kitty 

- I want that.

- A sad story from the world of sports.

- WTF is this? NSFW

- Reno 911! Lotto winner NSFW

Back when a screw was a screw. The wind was all that blew. And when you said I’m down with that. Well it meant you had the flu.