I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell

  Another Special SlingBlade Update

  We are staying at SlingBlade’s place in D.C. and I left my computer out last night…big mistake. These are the three emails he sent that I have found so far:

  To a girl who was asking about the location of one of my signings:

  You better show up to my signing or I will kill your whole family. I’m serious. I killed 12 people last year alone. I’m going to ejaculate on your corpse. Even bums won’t fuck you when I’m done with you. Smooches.

  To a girl who sent me a Hook-Up Application and wrote it in teenager internet-ese:

  hey gurl. I’m glad u hollad at me. LOL. me gonna spew ejaculate all over dat ass baby. me can’t wait yoyoyoyoyoyoyo. LMAO, ROTFLMAO, u is soooooooooooooooooo pretty. pretty gurl. pretty gurl makes me wanna go boom-boom. me go boom-boom wit u :-).

  To someone who tried to call me out about something stupid:

  When I see you in hell you will pay dearly for your insolence. In the meantime, don’t fuck up my shit with that delicate flower you call your fat friend. Also do you have any other fat friends (male of female) and/or are you fat?

  I just got this email from him. I’ll give you one guess who’s shampoo he is referring to:

  Either you or your nancy-fag boyfriend KungFu Mike left your high-falutin shampoo in my apartment. I usually use Suave, which, as far as I can tell, is the cheapest shampoo you can buy without driving into Mexico. So I tried your apricot-scented replenishing 3-in-1 homoerotic cleanser and I’ve never had a better hair day. I feel glorious. I just began lisping and feel the sudden urge to dance to techno. I also realized that my pants aren’t nearly tight enough.

  Monday, February 20th: Special Pittsburgh Update

  The signing isn’t until tomorrow, but Mike and I got to Pittsburgh a day early and something happened that I have to write about.

  There is a girl who lives in Pittsburgh [note: NOT the Tattoo Girl, a different one] that I have been emailing off and on for about two months. She is really pretty, very sweet, and well…she is into some peculiar things. One thing in particular, something that I have tried to avoid, but tonight I decided to go ahead and do it.

  Some backstory: When she first told me about her fetish, I was reading her email in my living room, sitting next to my buddy Credit. It went like this:

  Tucker “Dude, you aren’t going to believe what this girl wants me to do to her.”

  Credit “Pick her up at her middle school so she doesn’t have to ride the train here?”

  Tucker “Fuck you, she is 23.”

  Credit “I don’t know Max. That’s a little old for you. Did you ask her if she has a younger sister?”

  Tucker “Seriously though, after we fuck, she wants me to piss on her. Like, all over her.”

  Credit [short pause] “What if you don’t have to go?”

  Of course I laughed, but it planted the seed in my mind. I don’t really have any sexual performance issues, but what if I have urinary performance issues? I’ve never taken a post-coital piss on a girl before, who knows if I can do it on command? I know sometimes I have issues pissing in a public bathroom if there are lots of people around…this is like that, except way worse.

  [One more side note: PissGirl and I were supposed to fuck over a month ago, but she could never make it to NYC because she isn’t allowed to drive. Why not? Oh, did I mention that she also has a rare form of leukemia? Because of the high risk of internal hemorrhage, she isn’t allowed to drive a car. Or fly in a plane. And yes, she is currently undergoing chemo, but it’s nonaggressive chemo, so she isn’t losing her hair or anything, and we can still fuck without freaking me out. So to summarize, when I pulled into town tonight, at the bar there were two girls waiting for me: one with my name tattooed on her pussy, and a cancer victim who wanted me to piss on her. Sounds like a Pittsburgh party to me! Let’s get one for the thumb!]

  PissGirl and I get to the hotel, and I make her pay. She may have cancer, but it’s benign and daddy is still richer than I am. Besides, if he loves his little girl enough to give her a purse full of cash, who am I to not help her put it to good use? And let me tell you, there is very little that is funnier than the look on the clerk’s face when you pay for a $160 Wyndham Suite with sweaty, crumpled bills at 2am. High comedy.

  We fuck, it was fine, and she goes into the bathroom to pee. I start to panic a little, because I don’t have to go. At all. I get up and slam three big glasses of water, and when she comes out of the bathroom, I pull her into bed before she can ask me to piss on her. I need some time for the water to get through me.

  We fuck again, and to be honest, the second time was pretty fucking amazing. I started slow because I needed to pull a Napoleon and trade space for time to get the water through my kidneys. But for whatever reason, it kinda turned into really passionate and hot sex and, well, I don’t want to call it meaningful because I barely know this girl, but it was one of the closest things I’ve had to emotionally touching sex since I was dating Bunny.

  If you know anything about sex, you know that while physical chemistry is important, what really makes good sex great is an emotional connection. I can’t explain what happened or why, and I am not going to spend another second thinking about it. I really do not want to consider what the implications are of me forming a quick and premature emotional attachment to a girl who wants me to piss on her. I have a feeling that following this line of thought to its logical conclusion will result in me pouring Drano down my throat.

  PissGirl “Ummm…was that hot for you too?”

  Tucker “Yeah, no question. That was almost like Dating Sex.”

  PissGirl “God, it was amazing.”

  Tucker “You ready to get pissed on?”

  PissGirl “I don’t know if I want you do piss on me anymore.”

  Tucker “What?”

  PissGirl “Well, we just had such passionate sex; I don’t want to ruin the moment.”

  Had she said this to me after the first time, I wouldn’t have cared, but now it was 45 minutes later and my maneuver had worked. Those three glasses of water I slammed were through me….

  Tucker “Look, I have to piss, and it is going on you. Get out of bed and on your knees. Now.”

  PissGirl “It’s so hot when you tell me what to do.”

  I take her into the bathroom, she gets on her knees, and I straddle her, pointing my cock pointed right at her tits. It takes me a second to coax the urine out, but finally the first dribble leaks out.

  PissGirl “Ohhh…it’s so warm….”

  I guess that was the magic phrase, because the flood gates opened, literally. Were she to have jumped in the Monongahela River she couldn’t have gotten more drenched. But after like 30 seconds of a constant and uninterrupted stream of hot piss, it kinda got awkward.

  PissGirl “Oh my god!!! Are you ever going to stop!!! Where is all this coming from?!?!?”

  Tucker “I can’t stop, it’ll burn!”

  You know, now that I think about it, it might be funny to date a girl who likes to be pissed on, even if everyone knew. Think about the humor:

  You could come up with all sorts of fun nicknames for her. Mike called her the “Toilet brick with feet,” or “Princess PeePee,” or “Urinal Cake’ems.”

  Every time you go to the bathroom, you can make jokes about “it’s just not the same without my girl there.” Or when you are at a public urinal, you can say things like this to strangers: “My girlfriend likes it when I do this on her.”

  You have a new excuse to watch the Chapelle Show, season 1.

  Anytime she gets mad, there is all sorts of humor to be had with her being “pissed.”

  You could have Andres Serrano’s “Piss Christ” in your house, and instead of being offensive, it would be erotic.

  You can drive much further on road trips without having to stop at bathrooms.

  She just called me later on that day:

  PissGirl “Tucker, I just read the story! I don’t want to be known as PissG
irl!”

  Tucker “Well, you should have thought of that before you asked me to micturate all over you.”

  PissGirl “No, but Tucker I want to run for public office one day; this will ruin it.”

  Tucker “Well, your real name isn’t anywhere in the story. The only way people will know it’s you is if you tell them.”

  PissGirl “Oh, OK…can we fuck again? That was so hot last night.”

  This is an email I just got from PissGirl, three days later:

  Tucker,

  I cant believe im saying this, but im really happy that you didnt have piss anxiety and that you pissed over a gallon of urine all over my body. Today I was at my office and some guys asked me if I read the story about the girl you had pissed on. Im pretty sure that I immediatly got red and gave them a deer in the headlights look while thinking omg do they know that Pissgirl is me? But after talking to them about it i have decieded that theres nothing weird or wrong about my fetish. Although i will never tell them that I am Pissgirl because i do not want to be considered human urinal for the rest of my life to every guy i sleep with. Honestly, they thought it was amazing that a girl let you piss all over her, and better yet they said that every guy wants to do this and how much of a turn on it would be to actually get the chance. After hearing this i was relieved…and even though u degraded me by pissed on me, its not like it changed the sex. I mean you pissed on me, then we still had passionate sex that was amazing. So i hope to get the oppertunity to have sex with you again because it was amazing and i hope aftwards you piss all over me….

  Wednesday, February 22nd: Ann Arbor, Michigan

  This was one of my favorite stops; it was very relaxed and chill, most of the people who came out were cool, and everything just went really smoothly. Before the signing, I hooked up with a virgin. She drove in from somewhere in Michigan because she wanted to lose her virginity to me. Sounds fucked up right? Believe it or not, this happens a lot. About 7–8 times over the last few years. All the girls say the same thing, and it makes sense when they explain it; generally speaking, they want to lose their virginity to someone who knows what he is doing, who won’t fall in love with them and who she wouldn’t fall in love with, and they want to do it in a controlled situation under her terms, and not in a random or haphazard way. All but one of these encounters have gone surprisingly well. Who would have thought?

  Before we had sex, Virgin, Mike, and I had lunch at some restaurant. I was talking to her about sex, trying to calm her nerves and explaining to her what she should expect. When the issue of bleeding came up, she offered up quite the shock.

  Virgin “Oh, I don’t think I’ll bleed that much, I’ve already popped my cherry.”

  Tucker “Ummm…do you know how this virginity thing works?” Virgin “Yes, duh, but I am a virgin.”

  Tucker “OK, how?”

  Virgin “I’ve never had a penis in me, but a few months ago I was hooking up with this guy, and well…he was violently finger-banging me and when he stopped, there was blood everywhere.”

  Mike and I both fell out of the booth laughing. I haven’t laughed that hard for months.

  [For those who care: the sex went fine—she didn’t bleed at all and was quite happy with the experience.]

  The girl I hooked with after the signing was a cool girl and we had a great time together, but she kinda depressed me a little. I met her at the signing and flirted with her, and after she made it clear she wanted to fuck, she sat down next to me and we were talking about various things.

  Tucker “So I’m curious, why is it you want to fuck me?”

  Girl “Well, I’ve only ever had sex with two guys, and both cases I was in love and was in a committed relationship. I want to have meaningless, emotionally vacant sex, to see what it’s like.”

  All I could do was laugh. Fellas, be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.

  Tuesday, February 28th: Champaign, Illinois

  Overall, this stop went pretty smoothly. Then these two Asian girls introduced themselves. They had me sign all sorts of stupid trinkets of theirs, bracelets and assorted other useless crap. I got tired of that quick, and so I signed the last few with things like “Whore.” For some reason, this freaked her out, and she started blabbering on and on. I couldn’t stop laughing at her, she reminded me of the villains in every kung-fu movie.

  Tucker “I will defeat your WorthlessWhore style with my BeerBottle kung-fu!”

  She didn’t get it. Thankfully, the guys at the table behind us, who referred to themselves as the “Second Place Table” occupied them.

  The night was one of those where the drunk sneaks up on you. I started around 5pm just drinking cheap beer, but around 9pm the owner of the bar brought out a bottle of Grey Goose, five cans of Red Bull, a carafe of cranberry juice, and a pitcher of ice. Bottle service? At a dive bar? Yep. I decided to drink a little too much of the vodka and got a bit drunk…and I’ll let TheLittlestRanger tell the story. (Note: he was an actual Army Ranger, but is out now and going to UI.)

  Tucker,

  Good morning sweetheart. While I’m sure you have some recollection of last night, here’s how the sober one saw it:

  12:07am: [This is the only hard time I have (I checked my watch as we were leaving); the rest are me guessing.] You decided that you’re ready to leave. On the way out the door I ask you and Mike if either of you is OK to drive. Mike says no.

  12:09: I take the keys from you. You are not happy about this and announce it by pissing all over the driver’s side door of your SUV, including the side mirror that you then hit with your hand. I’m already in the car and get a chuckle out of it. Mike is laughing his drunken ass off in the back.

  12:10: You finally climb in as I put it in reverse. Stopping quickly because of the police car that is right behind us, trolling for drunken college students. It now seems like a good idea that I made you give me the keys.

  12:11: I realize you left the brights on as I turn in behind the cop car. I don’t know if you would have noticed, but I know cops hate SUV brights at midnight on Fat Tuesday. It appears me driving is, again, a good idea.

  12:16: Mike tries to get Laura and the rest of the Booze News girls to meet us at your hotel room. It doesn’t work.

  12:18: We arrive at the Hotel. Apparently I didn’t park the SUV right. According to you, the truck must hit the curb with authority because “that’s how a man parks.” You get in the truck and make the on-the-spot correction.

  12:20: KungFu Mike decides that he has not practiced his kick forms in a while and starts kicking the side of the SUV, trying to dent it. He does not succeed. You call him weak and start to kick it yourself. You do not succeed either. Not to be outdone by KungFu Mike, you climb up on the hood and then roof of the SUV in hopes you’ll dent the SUV. Nothing. Mike tells you to get down and instead you jump on the roof, prompting him to say for the third time that night, “28 days man, I’ve had to put up with this shit for 28 days!”

  12:25: I turn my back to you and start BSing with Mike. Suddenly I hear screeching tires and turn to see the SUV curb hop the first curb, cross the street, hop the other curb, spin around, and pull into another parking space. It seems you didn’t like my choice of parking space and elected to choose a new one. Mike shakes his head as you get out of the SUV, arms raised in triumph.

  12:27: A rent-a-cop saw you and is not happy about your new parking job. They start yelling at you. I grab the keys out of your hands and go over to talk to them. At first I thought it was a guy, it turned out to be the nastiest butch bull dyke I’ve ever seen.

  “IS THIS YOUR TRUCK?!” the Dyke asks. “I’m gonna call the cops, what the fuck were you thinking, you broke…” I tune her out as it flashes into my head to choke her out. I decide against this—she has a radio and she knows what the truck looks like. How many SUVs with NY plates are there in Champaign, Illinois? Fortunately, I’m sober and I wasn’t driving.

  LittlestRanger “Ma’am [oh so far you are in when you are calling a
bull dyke ma’am], I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened. I didn’t know he had the keys. I turned and all of a sudden the truck’s moving.”

  BullDyke “Is he on drugs, is he drunk?!” [Her anger is not subsiding and I’m starting to get annoyed with you for making me have to put up with this shit.]