**Disclaimer….I am not saying Keira Knightley has ASS HERPES.  As far as I know, she most definitely does not….(please do not sue DTZM)

But it was pointed out to me while in Vegas last weekend, though in a subtle fashion admittedly (I’m looking at you Rikki Tikki Deadly and Rev Mayhem), that I seem to have a penchant for the petite blondes.  And I can’t say that’s an inaccurate conclusion given the evidence at hand, necessarily due to the recent weeks featuring Sara Jean Underwood and Amanda Seyfried; not to mention other various blondes peppered in during other recent weeks.  So yes, I get that it might seem so.  And yes, I DO like blondes; and no I am NOT going to apologize for it.  It is true.

But also I like brunettes and gingers and…..well…..let’s just say I don’t have a “type”, in spite of what I might have inadvertently led you all to believe.  I do understand that one could (and some apparently have) come to the conclusion that I have a “type”.  But your sample size is too small to accurately conclude anything, so shut up.

And also, it’s not true.  I do not discriminate based upon appearance….and all which that statement implies.  If a gal is cool, and willing to not murder me for being the perverted dickhole I am apt to be, either in the short term or the long, then I’m open.  This is fact….trust me.  Her hair color/eye color/height/weight/body type….. do not matter to me.  It’s what’s inside that counts (giggity).

But yes I’m serious….so stop laughing and shut your pie holes.  I’m already in a bad mood this week.  Don’t piss me off further.

Bottom line….tWBS has motherfucking depth…he’s not JUST a pretty face to be trifled with.

–

I’m not gonna give you the blow by blow (phrasing) on how this week’s theme came about.  I had a discussion with someone who shall remain nameless (ballsofsteel)….and while it morphed a few times, in my mind it ended up repeatedly coming back onto Keira.

But the hard truth is that I’m mailing it in this week, and you all have to live with it.

In the past week I’ve logged over 6,000 miles in the air, and probably at least 1,400 miles on the ground over the course of 2 days.  I’m tired and I’m cranky and I’m depressed.

Additionally, yesterday (Wednesday) I had oral surgery YET AGAIN for my fucked up teeth.  And in spite of getting some good oxycodone in the deal, from my very cute and fun and totally NOT blonde oral surgeon….she like likes me btw, but she’s a U*NC grad, AND she’s got one of those fiance type things right now, so….yeah…..

Wait, where was I?  Oh yeah, tired and cranky and depressed, chatting up my oral (giggity) surgeon……and my face hurts like a bitch.

So bottom line this week, as I said…..My efforts/motivations for this week’s Sexy Friday are not particularly admirable.  I’m mailing this one in big time, and even that’s an optimistic euphemism.  I doubt I have enough figurative postage in me to even mail it in.  But we’ll see what happens.

Did anything interesting happen during this past week between here and the Pacific Coast?  Yes.

Am I going to tell you about it?  Some, yes.  Most, no.

Are you going to hear about how much Delta Airlines can eat the whole bag?  No.

Are you going to hear about how mentally deficient the TSA at Vegas’ McCarran airport is.  No.

But you are going to hear the grimy details about ASS HERPES.  Yes….yes, you are.

–

ASS HERPES!!!!!!

No, there will be no accompanying photo….search “ass herpes” on google and you’ll see why.  But yes, Ass Herpes.  You heard me.

This simple, even if nonsensical phrase, supplied me and others with endless laughter on Sunday night in Vegas.  How did it come about?  Who is responsible for its inception?

Let’s start at the beginning, shall we???

So myself and my Vegas compatriots spent the better part of the day on Sunday in the sportsbook at the Mandalay Bay doing the footballing.

Now seriously, I’m not usually one to gamble or bet, generally speaking.  I like my money enough to keep it in my pocket and not risk it on the whims of well paid, but not altogether trustworthy athletes.  But it was my birthday….my 50th birthday to be precise.  I was sad, though not sad about my 50th birthday per se, and I started drinking early…and often.  Which of course caused me to loosen my wallet somewhat.  I’m in Vegas….there’s bettor dudes right over there on the other side of that counter whose only purpose in life is to take my money because I think I’m smarter about football than they are.  So, I just gotta try to prove that I am.  What could go wrong????

DAMN YOU PEER PRESSURE!!!!!!!

So, I decide to do a little betting on the NFL.  Inorite?????  Famous last words n junk!!!

I’m a Ravens fan….for better or worse.  And at the half on Sunday the Ravens had actually played semi-competently…..Flacco had thrown for 3 TD’s against one pick….and the Ratbirds held a 24-0 halftime lead over the LOLphins.  The sportsbook douche guy gets on his little microphone/PA thingy and announces the 2nd half lines (yes, you can bet on only one half of a game….INORITE????  Who knew?????).  Miami is announced as -2 for the 2nd half.  Now, I know my Ravens.  I know Flacco.  I know we Ravens fans can’t have nice things.  I KNOW this 24 pt halftime lead will narrow.

Miami -2 for the 2nd half????  Holy shit, yes.

So…..tWBS lays down $100 on the ‘Phins -2 for half number two, KNOWING with confidence that the Ratbirds will fuck shit up anyway, and I might as well make some scrilla off of it.  All I need is a field goal difference in the 2nd half.  Great bet, can’t miss….or so I think.  2nd half plays out to the tune of Ravens 14, ‘Phins 6.  38-6 final score.  tWBS loses he moneyz.

And of course, now I’m pissed.  I’m pissed at the Ravens for not screwing up like they always do in the 2nd half; I’m pissed at Flacco, which is nothing new, though usually it’s not this way;  I’m pissed at the Dolphins for being unable to be normal-ish and close a 24 pt gap to at least only 21; I’m pissed at Vegas in general…..and I’m pissed at myself.  Because this is why I don’t generally gamble.  The universe or karma or whatever has been very clear with me in the past that I should not gamble.  Yet here I am, down $100.  Which of course isn’t a life changing loss, but it’s still annoying me.  BUT IT’S MY GODDAMNED BIRTHDAY!!!!!

So what’s the right move here?  Like you even have to ask??????  Bet another game to make my money back, Goddammit!!!!!!!

So then I bet Arizona -2.5 at home over Washington.  Yeah Right jumps on board with me for that one as well and we pool our funds.  But as soon as I lay the cash out I think to myself, “Dude this is how they get you.  Stop being stupid.  And stop being drunk.”

But too late, I’m all in for Cards vs Redacteds.  Which over the course of the game leads to some humourously cross words with Dok Zymm.  She even gave me the finger on multiple occasions as I rooted against her ‘Skins while sitting only feet away from her.  It’s actually rather amazing that she didn’t beat me down at some point.  But she’s nice, mostly, and didn’t hurt me physically in spite of hurting my feelings repeatedly.  She can be mean.

But it was a back and forth game.  On a few occasions, the Cards were up, but by less than 3 pts.  Dok was very quick to point out that that would make us both losers.  Her team would lose the game, and my bet would still fail due to the 2.5 pt spread.  Her implication of course being that I’m a horrible and stupid person for betting against her ‘Skins.  Like I said, she can be mean.

Happily, the Cards did not let me down.  It was a seesaw game to be sure, but the Redbirds finally pulled away and won me my money back.  31-24 Final.  tWBS gets his dough back from those Vegas assholes.  Sorry Dok…sincerely…..but $$$$$$$.

OK, now that I’m back to even with Vegas…..IT’S TIME TO BET SNF AND MNF, RIGHT????

Guys, let go of me….stop dragging me out of the sportsbook.  Guys seriously, let go of me.  I WANT TO BET ON SOMETHING!!!!!!!

Just kidding.  I was happy to be back to square.  And while I did consider betting the Colts over the Jets for MNF (which I should have as it turns out), I had no 2nd thoughts about quitting now that I was back even.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

–

OK, I’ve really gone off the rails here trying to explain ASS HERPES.  Let’s reel this in a bit.

Later in the evening, myself and my posse (yeah right, Low Commander, Inanimate Carbon Rod Marinelli and Dok Zymm) are once again out and about and looking for trouble.  Rikki Tikki Deadly and the good Rev Mayhem had sadly departed at this point…..damn you guys and your “responsibilities”.

Still though, the rest of us are still out and looking for trouble, bouncing from bar to bar, casino to casino, hotel to hotel.  We end up at the Wynn, bcuz Dok Zymm wants to play poker in their poker room.  So we head north to the Wynn so Dok can play some poker.

The rest of us have mostly had our fill of gambling at this point.  We just want to eat and drink.  So we end up in a sushi/noodle restaurant adjacent to Dok’s poker room.  It’s called Wazuzu.  That’s not racist whatsoever, right?  And in truth, that WAS some good fucking sushi.  Probably the best sushi I’ve ever had, truth be told….no shit.  I had the Spicy Tuna and a Curried Chicken salad.  Check this shit out….

But damn, that really was some good eats.  The food was almost as good as the company/fellowship.

But I digress…..

A couple hours later, Dok Zymm gets done playing poker, we settle up with Sushi place (some via mine and Yeah Right’s proceeds of the AZ over Washington bet) and we GTFO and head back south again, back to Mandalay Bay on the other end of the strip.  We end up at a Russian themed bar/club called Red Square.

Now the night before, these pinko commie fuckers had closed early and screwed us over when we tried to go there.  Screw the posted hours of operation….in communist Russia, club closes you.  But we are the forgiving types and apparently decided to take one for the proletariat team on this night.  Also, we wanted vodka.  So we give them another chance.

And comrades….let me state unequivocally that it was a good choice to give them another chance.  This opinion has almost nothing to with with great vodka and attractive servers in form fitting (and quite short) red dresses.

Anywhooo….Without any delay, we start sampling Vodka shots.   And it was a good thing.  The hot chick servers in skimpy red dresses also helped, I won’t lie.  The ambiance was pleasant.  Shut up, Low Commander.  Butt to butt NEVAR happened!!!!!

But after a few rounds, tWBS needs to relieve himself and excuses hizzself to find the restroom.  Which as it turns out was just outside the front entrance and barely 25 yards out into the casino/mall.  However, as is often the case in Vegas, all the urinals are taken.  And also all of the stalls as well.  But rather quickly without too much of a wait, a cowboy exits one of the stalls.

(Side note….it was rodeo weekend in Vegas….there were wannabe cowboys everywhere.  You couldn’t swing a dead cat and not hit an alleged cowboy.  Side note pt deux…while in Vet School I learned REAL cowboying from one of my classmates….it has nothing to do with hats, boots or being a redneck….yes, I can rope a calf or ride a bull…seriously.  Side note pt tres….tWBS realizes he needs to do more than just a number 1 as he enters the stall, if you get my drift…had to do a poopy)

So I enter this stall just vacated by the wannabe cowboy.  The angle of the lighting in this restroom is such that….well never mind.  Bottom line (no pun intended) is that the seat LOOKED clean and dry.  It wasn’t.

So tWBS drops trou and sits down onto the toilet seat, and into a very, VERY warm (thus RECENT) puddle of cowboy piss.  tWBS is now both pissed off and pissed on….and totes unhappy.  And also wet in areas which are not pleasant under most circumstances.

So yeah, this really ticked me off.  I jumped up and headed out of the stall (yes, I did pull my pants up first) to find that nasty, dirty, redneck fuck who not only pissed all over the toilet seat and didn’t clean up after himself….but also all over the floor and the back wall, and the walls of the stall I noticed only later.  I mean this asshole almost had to TRY to do this.  It was as if he was trying to write his name in the proverbial snow, but had really horrid penmanship.

So yes, I went looking for that fucker.  He was damn sure going to hear about this.  NASTY FUCK.

And I found him, before he ever got out of the bathroom in fact.  And admittedly, I got in his face and told him what was what.  Then he tried to get back in my face, though his efforts were poor due to his BAC%.  When his friends saw that he was about to receive a very deserved beat down, then THEY came over to his aid.  And remember, this is in the restroom at the Mandalay Bay.  This is a classy joint, and tWBS and random cowboys who piss wherever they like apparently….are about to turn this into Sunday night in the honky tonk dive bar.

It’s basically now me vs way too drunk to care where he pisses cowboy…and 3 of his friends.  I’ve faced worse odds, no worries.  When faced with superior numbers, I fight dirty.  This is not a joke.  But still…..

“Hey man, why are you getting all excited?” one cowboy friend asks me.

“I’m not excited….I’m pissed off.  There’s a difference.  And I’m pissed off because your nasty friend just pissed all over that stall, didn’t bother to clean up after himself, and I just sat down in his hot mess.  How would you react?”

Silence for a few seconds as they pondered.

Then pissing with bad aim Cowboy #1 starts talking shit, AGAIN!!!!  Though admittedly, he was so hammered I understood very little of what he said.  I realize, of course, that his mess making was probably at least to some degree due to his level of inebriation.  But still…..he’s damn sure still going to hear about it.  And so are his wannabe redneck friends and all their fabulous hats and belt buckles, too.

“Look you fucktard, if you don’t shut your talkhole, you will not make it out of here without blood loss” (yes, I said this).  “Apologize right now…I have your nasty piss all over my ass and if you think I’m not gonna call you out on that then you’re fucked in the head.”

He said nothing.  Almost toppled over in fact, he was so drunk.  His rough and tough cowboy friends were wide eyed and backing up by this point.  It was obvious that they were not going to risk a beating for themselves in defense of this guy.  At that point I knew the conflict was over, tWBS wins….well as much as one CAN be said to have won when they have someone else’s uninvited piss dripping down their ass.

So I told his friends to get him out of there, he needed to go home.  Like….NOW.

They apologized to me and actually THANKED me.  Not sure what the thank you was for specifically, maybe for having self control enough to not kill this drunk prick.

He needed a good killing.

–

But again, I digress…..

So I go back into the Russian themed bar where my buds were still drinking and I briefly convey what has just happened.  First, they laugh at me…as good friends do.  I would have been disappointed if they hadn’t, truth be told.  Then, a discussion ensues regarding infectious diseases, toilet seats, etc.

YES DOK ZYMM I KNOW THAT THE RISK OF INFECTION IS VIRTUALLY NIL…..I STILL DON’T APPRECIATE SITTING IN WARM COWBOY PISS!!!!!!

And that discussion goes on for a bit.  Way longer than it should have, actually.  We might have been a touch on the drunk side by now.  Inanimate Carbon Rod Marinelli knows what I’m talking about.

And then…without forewarning, the phrase ASS HERPES becomes a thing, thanks to drunk Dok Zymm. (btw…drunk Dok Zymm is very fun and very funny)

Dok, I love you hon, and I’m telling you right now, that was the funniest shit I experienced all weekend.  Dok Zymm shouting “ASS HERPES” repeatedly at the top of her lungs, was some of the funniest shit I’ve ever experienced…anywhere….EVER!!!!!

And no….I don’t have Ass Herpes.  As far as you or I know.

I’m getting tested next week just in case though.

–

Sports n Junk

Hey, did you see what the Chefs did last night?  Holy shit, we finally got a decent TNF game.  Alex Smith was surgical and shit when it counted.  Inorite????  The AFC West is now theirs to lose.  21-14 final over the Raiders.

Hockey:  The Ice Stillers have decided to go on a roll.  Fuck them (sorry WCS).  The Caps have been playing well, but not well enough, as they slide down the standings.  Fuck, even Philly has passed them.  Hockey is now depressing me more than life in general….and that’s saying something.

Tonight’s NHL Slate

Fuck the NBA, but here’s the games anyway.

College Basketball can already fuck off.

And after a shitty weekend of college football conference champs games, all of the bowl games are set.  Am I going to Shreveport to watch NCSU(6-6) face off with Vandy(6-6)….?  I’d rather have a car battery attached to my scrotum.

–

Speaking of my scrotum…..

Kiera Knightley

Born: Teddington, England…March 25, 1985 (31 y.o.)

5’7″….119lbs/54kg

So yeah, I don’t have much more to say.  Here’s some Keira Knightley goodness, mostly without any comment….

Alright, that’s it.  Not even caring enough this week to give the ladies equal time.

ASS HERPES!!!!!!!

Ok fine….dunno why I even care anymore.  But here, ladies…..

–

OK, what to share from my personal photo files this week?

How about this one….it’s pretty self-explanatory I think…..

–

Have a good weekend folks.  I love ya’s all, even if I am tired and cranky and depressed at the moment.

But do yourselves a favor and go get your Xmas shopping finished and stop wasting time reading my perverted tripe.

ASS HERPES!!!!!!!

–