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“Does This Rag Smell Like Chloroform” Blog Party in My Pants!

53 Comments

meh.ro219

Welcome Welcome Welcome! Come on in. Let me take that coat. Saunter up to the bar and have a cocktail. Mix and mingle. What’s that you say? Why yes, this soiree is pants optional. I would have it no other way. Have some chips and dip. I made it myself with my special sauce. Secret ingredient that adds a little kick to it. Don’t even ask. So glad you could all cum, and not too early either. No one wants to be arrive prematurely. Kind of spoils the fun, and your underwear. Yet, this is a way to get a good seat for all the action. Relax! Spread your legs, enjoy, and let many sordid tales be told. I even wore my studded assless leather chaps for this one. Yes, I dress to impress.

Just wanted to offer a big shout out to all my guests! Thanks for dropping in. I see some of you even dressed for the occasion. Oh honey, you shouldn’t have worn that. Dude, does your mommy dress you in the dark. You purposely trying not to get laid? Oh, I kid, I kid. No really. Yes, I do. No. So glad you could all make it to my first ever virtual blog party where you get to take over my abode of a twisted blog. Don’t mind some of the creepers lurking around here. I’m sure by the end of the night anyway you’ll all be half naked in the bathroom doing strange things with my loofah to each other. All I ask is that you clean up after your nasty selves, and if some of you pervs end up in my bedroom be prepared to enter the world of internet porn. Not saying I have cameras hidden around my place. Oh, did you remember to sign the waiver and bring it with you? Just want to be protected in case some of you do damage to yourselves playing with the sex swing and assorted toys laying about. They are just for display purposes only. Wink Wink. Oh, don’t mind that little red light in the bookcase and behind the mirror. It’s nothing. Really.

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Here’s how this shindig works. In the comments section every guest needs to jot down the sordid dating/relationship/sex details of a crazy/embarrassing incident in their own lives (keep it reasonably sized) and then include a link to any ONE blog post you would like to feature past or present. Be creative, be open, and let the tales fly.

Click on a few links and discover new friends! Invite other guests over to your blog for naked Twister. Send dick pics and naked selfies. I don’t care as long as no one vomits on my couch. There are always new people showing up at a party. Some even follow you home. Try to leave a short hook with your link, so the victims know what your post is about. Click on a few and tell them, “I got wasted at Phil’s party.” They should hopefully click back to your place. Maybe never leave. You could “tie up” a few new subscribers in your basements.

Just don’t be “that guy or gal” who leaves a link and runs home to their blow up doll. Make sure to stay a while, get drunk, meet my perverted friends. Hey, does this rag smell like chloroform?

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I’ll start this off with a dating nightmare tale of when I had a truly hot little number for dinner. No, really, she caught on fire. Check out this past post I wrote about that dating disaster –

http://blog.theregularguynyc.com/ticket-giveaway-winner-and-my-own-dating-disaster-in-nyc/

I am sure we also have our tales of strange places we have had sex. Like the time as a teen when the gal I was fooling around with broke into a model home to have at it in the bedroom. Now if you have ever been in model homes many are fully furnished. We took advantage of that fact and climbed in a back window and headed updstairs to the master bedroom. After a night of “playing house” and getting high we fell asleep only to be awoken by the morning sun and the pitter patter of feet coming up the stairs. Holy crap the home was open for viewings and people were now in our bedroom staring in shock at our naked bodies! I thought it was a dream as I groggily rubbed my eyes to see a shrieking mom cover little Johnny’s eyes as she took in the grandeur of my morning wood. The real estate agent starting screaming at us and threatened to call the cops as we frantically grabbed our clothes and ran out of there practically buck naked into the street. We jumped into my car and peeled out of there laughing all the way to the McDonald’s drive thru for breakfast. That must have been a sight for the pimply faced kid working the drive thru window. Naked breakfast McMuffins rules. True story bro.

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Now let’s get this party started. Oh, I see some of you have shed your pants already. Nice! Can’t wait to read some of your amazing tales. Please pass the dip and bacon lube.

53 thoughts on ““Does This Rag Smell Like Chloroform” Blog Party in My Pants!”

  1. Oh Phil, you certainly know how to get a party started! It reminds me of the first time I went to a gay bar and assumed all the men that worked there were gay. The beefy and sexy bartender was pouring me heavy handed Tokyo iced teas and feeling nice, I told him if he wasn\\\’t gay I would take him to the bathroom and… (insert unlady-like comment here). Well, he smiled and handed me his phone number then told me to wait for him to finish his shift. We hooked up but not on that night. I drunkenly slammed 5 Tokyo iced teas down my gullet and said to him I would be right back. IN my crazy jacked up mind, I thought leaving Chelsea to go to Kew Gardens to take a shower and a nap would give me enough time to come back and see him. I dont recall how I got home. but I remember laying in my bed getting a million text messages from him asking where I was. I told him Tokyo. We had a good 3 month run. Turns out, dating bartenders requires an “open mind”.

    Reply

    1. Hey Mo!

      LOL – only you would drunkenly trek across boroughs to take a shower and power nap in anticipation of dirty bartender sex! At least he gave you some “sex on the beach” for three months!

      Holy crap those food pics in your post link are food porn!

      Reply
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  4. Hmm… Well obviously you triggered me by talking about naked selfies. The other day a coworker was making some sort of assumption about me and I was like “oh, no, you should see me naked.” She paused and was like… “I have. I mean, we all have.” So of course, the post about my naked selfies getting spread around my workplace!

    Oh no. It won’t let me post a link 🙁 Dang.

    Reply

  5. You had me at the photo of Christopher Walken. How did you know I have a mad crush on that sexy/creepy man?!?! I wish my dating stories were filled with sex swings rather than saliva strings (true story) and racist potheads (also true). Ah, the life of a single girl.

    Thanks for hosting, Phil. And might I say, those assless chaps look great on you.

    Reply

    1. Hey Jessica!

      Well, after repeated nights looking into your bedroom window and hacking your computer I figured it out.

      Saliva strings and racist potheads? Do tell! That is exaclty what this post is about. Any present ot past post you want to link here?

      Reply

      1. I thought I heard some heavy breathing in the bushes. Glad your stalking led to Walken.

        So the saliva string… I went on a first date with a guy a few months ago. I could tell right away that it wasn’t a match, but what sealed the deal was the string of saliva that joined his top lip with his bottom lip. For more than twenty minutes, I watched as that string refused to break even though he continuously chatted away about his live-in ex girlfriend and having to move back in with his parents. It was the strongest bit of saliva I have ever seen. I ended the date early with a stupid excuse and he called me over a month later asking for a second date. Um… why don’t you and your saliva string reunite with that ex girlfriend you seemed so fond of?

        As for the racist pothead, he was a real charmer. Basically went on and on about how stupid his friends were and how they had “black people problems” whatever that is. He later admitted that he had smoked pot right before the date, didn’t have a job, and that he once dated a girl who wore “ratty underwear,” “dressed like a slob,” and who he wasn’t sexually attracted to. And he was actually surprised and shocked that I didn’t want to go out with him again.

        I tried to leave a post posing the question of “is love enough?” but it wouldn’t take. Oh well, the pantless party people can just read about my adventures in painting (and drinking). 🙂

        Reply

        1. Hey Jessica!

          Hahahaha!!! So I guess swapping spit was out of the question?

          As for pot head – I bet he was a real catch! What were you thinking!

          I need to check into why people can’t leave a post here.

          Reply

        3. Jessica, you must have AMAZING self control. There is no way in hell I could have stopped myself from getting a napkin, wiping that shit and saying something like “Sorry that saliva was driving me crazy. Did you recently drink a thick malt or what??” Because I’m classy like that.

          Reply

  6. OMG, Phil! This is hilarious. A bit different than Susie’s Use Me & Abuse Me parties, unless there was some using and abusing at her place I didn’t know about. 🙂 One question, does everyone at this joint go through a “testing” to make sure they are clean? I am willing to submit to the testing as well. It’s an OCD thing, sorry. Ok. I wanted to dip my toe in here for a minute, I promise I will be back, I need to think of an experience I can share. I just had to take a peek to make sure it was safe. 🙂 BRB. 🙂

    Reply

    1. Hey Brickhouse!

      Well, do instruct a body cavity search before entering my parties so it is pretty safe. Just come on in, have a drink, and mingle. You might actually leave with a new story to tell. And naked selfies.

      If anyone wants to check out Brickhouse Chick’s blog where she let’s it all hang out here is her link –

      http://brickhousechick.com/

      Reply

  7. My dating stories are out there all right. I haven’t had the time, or intestinal fortitude, to blog about them yet but they range from “Chalk up to a wild oat sown” to “WTF was I thinking?”
    There was the time I met a girl online, we emailed for over a month, pretty heavy-duty stuff, great conversations ranging into mildly perverted, then when we FINALLY met for what I thought was going to be a date, it turned out she was a professional dominatrix who just wanted to fulfill a male client’s fantasy of a 3-way. Yes, of course I obliged. I wanted to make sure that I really wasn’t really in fact into 3 ways, it could just have been that the other ones didn’t have the right people.
    Then there was the time that a female manager at work wanted to hook up, and the first time she tried she was so drunk that when I drove her home, to save her from a car accident or at least a DUI, she tried to initiate a 3-way with her husband. Who was NOT down with this plan. So they started fighting. Big time. Meanwhile, I was stuck there at their house, without my car and without any cash to call a cab. I waited and waited for one of them to drive me to my car and eventually fell asleep no their couch. The next morning being dropped off at my car, which happened to be at the hotel where a work party took place, OF COURSE people saw her dropping me off at my car. I lived through months of teasing and comments like “I thought she might have gone home with someone that night, I never thought it would be you.” And I didn’t even get any sex out of that humiliating story. UGH.
    I don’t have the energy to tell the story of the bisexual guy that hit on every single person we came into contact with on our “date” that wasn’t really a date, and the consequent “not a date” that came from my counter-strike, asking his friend out. Dating sucks sometimes.

    Reply

    1. Hey Joy!

      Well, that escalated quickly! As for the three way thing I guess the one way to find out is to do it. Except when the happy couple has a blowout over it. Kind of spoils the mood when hubby is a drip. As for that bisexual date you had I am still a bit confused over that one!

      If anyone wants to check out Joy’s meandering life thoughts on ComfyTown Chronicle’s here is her blog link –

      http://www.comfytownchronicles.com/

      Reply

    1. Hey Patricia!

      Well, then regale us all with a tale from your past to add to the chuckles! Have a shot of tequila or a jello shot if it will help.

      Reply

  10. From a bar in NYC I once took home a woman who asked me for money. I told her I was from the free love generation. Let her sleep but rousted her out in the morning. She greeted the day with the utterance, “I don’t go out in the day.” She tried to get back in the locked main apartment door and failed. Funny now. Twasn’t then.

    Reply

    1. Hey Astro!

      Thanks for dropping by the party!

      That one sounds like she could have been dangerous! I can picture her banging on your door and screaming. Was she a vampire?

      Reply

  11. Lord knows you are probably one of those stories … a lore if you will, that started with the pimpled face drive-thru kid and is now told at family gatherings around a campfire. I wonder how many times it’s been changed? Love this post and the story!!!

    My experience is titled Zac’s Moooom on my blog.

    Reply

  12. Nineteen-years-old and at a stage in my life when I regularly imbibed far too much alcohol, I had returned home from university to stay with my parents during the Christmas recess. A Friday-night reunion with my friends had involved the consumption of a potent mix of beer, vodka and cheap wine. Staggering home in the early hours of the morning I had opted – in my wisdom – to take a short-cut across a building site, but I stumbled and slid down a muddy hole. My only option to escape was to crawl out on my hands and knees, thereby coating my body, from toe to quiff, in sludge and slime. When I arrived home, my parents were already in bed. Being semi aware of my messy state, I thought it wise to disrobe before getting into bed, so I proceeded to strip immediately I stepped over the threshold. Subsequently, I hazily recall waking in the night with an acute urge to pee, and fumbling around in the dark on route to the toilet. I remember struggling to find the exit out of the bedroom; I’m a logical kind of chap, so at one point I got on my hands and knees and, starting at the bottom of the wall, I slid my palms systematically over every inch of the interior in my own game of find the door-handle.When my parents awoke the next morning, they were confronted by a sight they still talk about (at family gatherings) to this day: muddy footprints along the hallway floor and the total length of the stairs’ carpet; grimy handprints that transformed the bedroom wallpaper into a Dalmatian design; soiled shoes and socks strewn over the settee; items of sludgy clothing forming a trail to my bedroom – trousers in the hallway, shirt on the bottom step, and underpants half-way up the stairs. And I’d pissed in the wardrobe!

    Reply

    1. Hey Gary!

      All I can say is …..BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, we have all been there. I think? At least they didn’t find you passed out on the toilet floor in a buddy mess!

      Oh the trials and tribulations of youth. Actually, I did something like this last week……

      Reply

  13. As for a tale with a sexual tilt, the link describes the time that the hotel turn-down girl nearly got to handle something more interesting than a counterpane!

    Reply

  14. In my 20s I used to hit up the Houston clubs at least 3 nights per week after getting off – work, that is. After an hour or so, I head to the bar to get some relief in the guise of Crown and coke and a beautiful, exotically intriguing blonde in her 30s starts talking to me. Entranced, our convo goes on for two drinks and then it happens…come to the bathroom with me, she says. You know girls can’t seem to go alone so I do…and she takes me into the stall with her…OK.

    In about three seconds she’s got me bent over the toilet, whips my little thong to the side and she gets to work…I temporarily forgot how gross club toilets are, that this was my first bathroom fuck, as well as my first time to let a stranger fuck me. This certainly wasn’t this lady’s first rodeo for sure. She tells me that I can take care of her later, we clean up and go back out into the club…where she introduces me to this guy that had been standing next to us at the bar – who had yet to say a word until then – as her boyfriend and Master…

    Um, OK this night just got really interesting. After a few more drinks and getting to know you bullshit, I’m drunk enough to say yes to about anything. I go to their place and am introduced to their interesting Dom/Sub lifestyle. Long story long…I ended up in a triad relationship with these people for a year and a half – we fucked in many bathrooms and dungeons over that time, traveled extensively, lived together, and made several videos of our best spanking and fucking sessions (one of which my mother found- she said she wasn’t impressed but I know she was lying!)

    Hell, we did everything together including tattoos…any most people don’t know that the initials on my twat waffle tattoo are of the master… I have to say that it was a blast and I loved coming home and finding our dog collars and leashes set out on the dresser because I knew playtime was coming…kind of like a real dog – it made my tail start wagging!

    Beyond that, I’ll share one more tidbit in the form of advice…Kids, these sex swings are fun, but DO get the stand they belong on or mount it to a support beam, not the doorframe like the instructions suggest you can. Nothing puts a damper on the fun when your ass crashes to floor and the frame knocks you unconscious as it smashes down on your head…

    Reply

    1. Hey Stephanie!

      OMG!!!! Excuse me while I go out to have a cigarette and a cold shower. Now THAT is a hell of a story. I bet Mom will never get over that tape! Hope she doesn’t bring it out at family get togethers!

      Also, I take it by experience that you had a sex swing experience that almost put you in a hospital? That would have been a great story to tell the doctor why you were there. 😉

      Go hit the bar and have a few cocktails. You deserve a few after that tale! I think you know a few friends already here. And don’t mess up my bathroom!

      PS – I can understand why you want to keep you blog a secret. If anyone wants to contact you let me know.

      Reply

      1. Honestly, I’ll bet what happened while I was unconscious would make if a good story if I only knew… I got married shortly after than incident and the swing had to stay put away…my ex wasn’t exactly bold like that. I’ll never forget the first time I reached in the nightstand for my little vibrating friend and he freaked out…and it wasn’t a king kong dong either, but he was very intimidated.. and that put and end to my braveness with him. Probably why we are divorced and just settle for being besties..

        Reply

  15. Thank you Phil for inviting me to your little shindig, and please bear with me if I’m a little out of sorts, that last party I attended was the one I snuck into at Chuck E Cheese when I was a kid.

    My story of shame, sure here goes…

    I was with this chick and we were going at it like rabbits, and right in the middle of it all she lets out a really nasty fart.

    Now I didn’t know if I should acknowledge it or just keep going as if nothing happened, but then the room started to stink something fierce so I had to call a timeout.

    She got all embarrassed and apologetic, she was trying hard not to kill the mood, but I assured her I was a dude and it would take more than that to keep me from the prize.

    Reply

    1. Hey Michael!

      So glad you could drop by and jump into the party. Have a drink and relax. Play with a ball gag.

      I am sure we have all had things like that happen when going at it. Now, if she sharted that might be a different story. Yet there are those who dig that kind of thing. Ewww…..

      If anyone wants to check out The Insane Asylum and stories of broken cocks here is Michael’s blog link – http://the-insane-asylum.blogspot.com/

      Reply

      1. Phil are there any sex swings around here? Who does a man have to hump around here to get an ice cold Zima with a NyQuil chaser?

        Reply

        1. Michael,

          Head down the hallway and enter the last unmarked door on the right. I thought I saw Lisa, Joy, and Stephanie go in there earlier.

          Don’t say I didn’t warn ya……

          Reply

    1. Hey Jenny!

      Sorry about that, but hang around and stay for a while. Have a drink and take a bite of my cocktail weenies. I have been told they are juicy!

      Yes, you make some good points of what not to say on a first date. Especially calling a waiter “Garcon” then calling your date “frigid”. I guess some guys try hard to not get laid!

      Check out this dating disaster here – http://jennyhansenauthor.wordpress.com/2013/07/25/what-never-to-say-on-the-first-date/

      Jenny’s blog, More Cowbell, which features great stuff on writing, underwear follies, and life craziness is here – http://jennyhansenauthor.wordpress.com/

      Reply

  17. Ha! Ha! Phil. Not sharing until I get a publisher! All I can say is that at university, I was “miss-two-little-good-shoes-with-an-edge.” That edge came out after university and when I lived in London and Prague! On moving to Berlin, I used to hang out in gay clubs which really got started at 02:00 and ended at 12:00.

    On one situation, I left the club at 10:30 and was trotting, but probably crawling (not that type of crawling !!) home, when I bumped into one of my elderly neighbours. OMG. I was wearing a skimpy, silvery, shimmering dress, with silver platform shoes, and bits of silver in my now-ruffled-up hair and what used to be, pink lipstick. “Are you on your way to church?” he said. I didn’t know where to look so I said “Yes!”

    Reply

  18. Well I can finally comment on a sex experience seeing how I’ve been getting some practice since my wild-child’s surfaced!! I had been dating Mr. X when we both decided to take the plunge (is that the right word? hmm) lol We started with a night of partying with our friends, which was fine, but kinda pissed me off that he’d want to make it an all-nighter. I would prefer my partner to be somewhat sober!! I had told him, that I like men! Real men! Not metro-sex, sensitive or feminine guys who cry during the act or barely hold you! If you’re crying someone’s not doing their damn job!! Let’s just say, things got heated & Mr. X turned out to be Ms. X! Oh he says he isn’t, but trust me when I say that the man doesn’t have a masculine bone in his body!! lmao ~ So, needless to say, Mr. X is history, I’m let down in a big way that this hulking of a sexy man is about as masculine as a Nicholas Sparks novel and I’m on the search for someone with less estrogen than me!! In this day & age, it’s getting harder and harder to find a real man! No pun intended!! Curse the day Metro-sex invaded the single scene!! Not sure if that fits weird or kinky but rather pissed off and horny!! 😉 Great post Phil!!

    Reply

    1. Hello Inion/Mathair!

      If a man starts crying while laying the pipe then something is horribly wrong! Run away as fast as you can!

      I know what you mean. Seems like too many guys are wussies in this day and age. Women wants a guy that takes charge and isn’t also drunk all the time to have sex. Too many over -feminized men out there nowadays. What happened?

      Thanks for commenting and joining the party!

      If anyone wants to check out Inion & Mathair’s blog it’s full of great stories and info – http://inionnmathair.wordpress.com/

      Reply

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