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.

Pictured today is the nephew of cast member Chuck H. He plays high school hockey in Wheeling, West Virginia. Isn’t there a dog track in Wheeling, West Virginia?

Anyway, I’m just happy to be doing my part to educate the next generation.

I have a lot of stories from high school. But since I don’t want to give the youth of American any bad ideas, I’ll share a PG-13 yarn.

One fall afternoon my cross-country team was on a 6-mile run after school. As we crossed the bridge over a busy highway, someone thought it would funny to moon the rush hour traffic. In some cultures, I believe this practice is referred to as “chucking a brown eye”.

Being the only sophomore on the team, I gladly joined in. Man, peer pressure is a bitch.

The following morning, the only person not to participate in the prank (because he was a Mormon), told me that a concerned citizen had called into the school to complain.

I knew what was coming next when someone walked into my class and handed the teacher a note. She read it, looked directly at me, and said, ”Benny, the Principal would like to see you.”

“Okee doke.”

I sat through a half hour of intense interrogation – denying every accusation thrown at me.

When I walked into the locker room that afternoon for practice, my teammates seemed kind of down.

“What did you get?” one of them asked a fellow teammate.

“Three weeks of Saturday school and I can’t run in our own invitational,” he responded.

He then looked at me and asked, “How about you, Soph?”

“You guys told the truth?” I asked.

“Yeah, you didn’t?” they all responded together.

“No.”

“Well, it looks like you’ll be running in the varsity meet next week,” the team captain told me.

“Sweet.”

I was one of the last runners to finish. But I made out with a hot varsity cheerleader later that night.

- Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

The ice we skate is getting pretty thin. The water’s getting warm so you might as well swim.

One semester in college I decided to leave school in pursue of the big bucks – selling vacuum cleaners door-to-door in Champaign, Illinois. I didn’t get rich, but a lot of stories were generated over those three months.

This is one of those stories.

My boss called me into his office one day with a lead. A lady had called in and wanted to see a demonstration. I drove off in the beat up company van with directions that led me to a trailer park.

She was an attractive woman – I was guessing in her mid 30’s – which would have made her about 15 years my senior.

As I demonstrated the stunning ability of my high-performance sucking machine, I noticed that she kept bending over and exposing her rather large, non-bra confined breasts. When it came time to close the sale, she didn’t flinch at the price, and quickly signed the credit application and contract at the kitchen table.

“I appreciate you driving all the way out here. I wish there was more I could do for you,” she said.

Long story short – I nailed her in the bedroom of her double-wide.

Afterwards, I noticed a picture of her sitting with a large, muscular fellow on a Harley and asked, “Who is that?”

“My old man.”

“That’s your dad?” I asked.

“No goofball. That’s my husband.”

“You’re married?”

“I guess you could say that. He’s a truck driver and is on the road a lot.”

I grabbed the paperwork and got the hell out Dodge.

A few days later my boss called me into his office. “You have to go back and pick up the unit you sold to the lady in the trailer.”

“Why?”

“Her credit was declined.”

“I’m not going back there.”

“Well, she was pretty upset and requested that you be the one to come out and get it.”

Drink, I said get it.

“That’s bad news for you because there’s no way I’m going back there.”

He gave me a puzzled look and drove out there himself.

And for those of you keeping score at home – that’s two trailer chick stories this month.

Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio? Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you, woo woo woo.