The One Where I Play A Mean Prank On A Fat Man

The NBC television network and all its sister stations have been running relentless coverage of the Olympics here for the past several months (at least it seems like months). When I first saw the title of the broadcast on the old DirecTV, I got a little excited because it said XXX Summer Olympics. I figured I'd get a heavy dose of porn. That wasn't the case. No porn in sight. What the Olympics are instead, is one long commercial for Nike and a giant fucking hugfest. The Nike swoosh is so ubiquitous during the coverage that you feel like you're watching the Oregon Ducks football team. An example of this was underscored the other night. I was sitting at the infamous Kickin Chicken watching the Cards/Saints game and on a number of the TVs was Olympic coverage. There was a South African track athlete competing. This athlete must be a veteran of the Boer Wars because he didn't have any legs. Some South African doctors rigged up these flipper looking things so this kid could compete in the Olympics. If you haven't seen the kid, picture those clone robot dudes from Star Whores. This South African runner would fit right in with those clone warriors in the movie. Anyway, on the bottom of his flippers, you guessed it, Nike placed a damn swoosh. That's how ubiquitous  the swoosh has been on the Olympic coverage (I was pulling for the flipper kid to win his event; alas he finished dead last). As for all the hugging, I don't get it. It must be a rule that you must hug anyone nearby every 30 seconds during competition. Volleyballers do it after every point. Gymnasts hug, hug, hug, and hug. These Olympians hug constantly. So that's the Summer Olympics in a nutshell, all Nike swoosh and hugging. It's unwatchably silly.

Speaking of the infamous Kickin Chicken, I was in there on a Thursday not too long ago. The main bar was pretty full when I strolled in at 10:30. The only open stool was next to this guy I see around the seedy bars in the Gate City from time to time. His name is Chris. He's in his mid 50's, has a nice gut going for him, and sports spikey orange hair (like Johnny Rotten, if Johnny Rotten weighed 300 lbs...). If you've ever seen the kid around town, he's memorable for the hair. He's also a bit of a tedious gasbag. He annoys me quickly every time I run across him. Here's a key insight into this Chris character - he's dated Michigan Molly. He really has. I am not making that up. He admitted to me that he fucked Michigan Molly. He fucked Michigan Molly numerous times. Anyway, I'm sitting at Kickin Chicken next to this spikey haired Chris. He was running his mouth about Owen Wilson being a whore for some reason. I couldn't quite figure out why. After my first beer I sauntered out to the smoking/Cornhole area. I chatted with a brother out there for a few minutes about Horseplay U (the NCAA penalties had been announced earlier that week). I finished my smoke and went back in and continued to listen to Chris ramble on about Owen Wilson fucking every waitress in Winston-Salem. A half hour passed. I finished another beer and went back out to the smoking/Cornhole area to light another Marlboro Light. The same brother I was chatting with during the previous cigarette was back out there. Only this time he was out there with a sister. The sister very quickly invited me to join her and the brother in a threesome. Turns out it was her 40th birthday and she wanted to make it memorable by doing a white dude and a brother at the same time. I agreed instantly. Obviously. The sister spent the next 3 minutes debating which of the 2 of us would get which hole (I think eventually she decided I'd get the old poop chute). I told her I'd be right over to her table inside the restaurant with my number and she could get with me later in the evening for where this little tryst was gonna go down. So what I did was, can you guess??? Can you??? I bet Andy can. For the rest of you, what I did is I went back to the bar and asked my man Chad behind the bar for a pen and some paper (it wasn't football season yet, so I didn't have a pen on me at the time). Chad obliged me. I then asked spikey haired Chris for his phone number. I then wrote down some fake name on the piece of paper and put Chris' phone number under the fake name. I finished my beer, settled up with Chad, and approached the birthday celebrating sister's table. I handed her the piece of paper, said something like "Hit me up soon, baby," and left the bar. I went to Wing Joint for a bit and forgot all about my little prank on spikey haired Chris. Well, the next time I ran into Chris, he was none too happy with me. The sister did indeed send a text to Chris minutes after I left the bar that night informing him where the threesome was happening. As Chris told me this, I started laughing uncontrollably. Eventually I calmed down and asked him if he took the sister up on her offer. I then learned that Chris did try and take my place as the anal pounding white dude in the threesome. However, when the sister asked Chris what he looked like and Chris described himself a bit, the sister uninvited Chris to the threesome. If you're wondering why this Chris character would consider getting involved in the sordid world of multi-racial fetish sex, I would remind you that this is a man who fucked Michigan Molly. And with that in mind, no deviant behavior can be surprising. Can it?