Me and my pal "Sportskid" are discussing what else, sports, with a stupid blonde girl at my house party.

Sportskid: ...So I'm really disappointed about the Magic last night. They should have won the game.

Irina: Why is that?

Me: You wouldn't understand. So anyway...

Sportskid: It's because of the coach, Stan Van Gundy. He's a good guy and I'm rooting for him.

Irina: Oh I love Jeff Van Gundy. I remember when he was in the Finals, with the Knicks, like 10 years ago. It was so exciting!

Me: This is Jeff's brother we're talking about.

Irina: Are they the underdogs? I always like to root for the underdog, it makes the game more fun.

Sportskid: Oh, really?

Me: I don't know, does it?

Irina: So where's the next game being played, The Garden?

Me: I wish

Sportskid: It's in LA.

Irina: Wait, so does that mean Jeff Van Gundy's team might have a better chance of winning because they're the home team?

Sportskid: Yeah... something like that.

Me (sarcasm): Wow, that is one of the most brilliant things I've ever heard. Where did you go to school?

Irina: I went to Parsons.

Me: They should be very proud of you.

(She doesn't get the sarcasm)

Irina: Oh, believe me they are.

Fast forward to a couple hours and many drinks later, when me, Sportskid, and his friend "BingBear" are discussing "Irina"

BingBear: Remember that blonde? That girl was ice cold. What was her name?

Me: Polina? Irina? Something like that.

BingBear: European, whatever. She was dumb too

Sportskid: She's a smart one...

BingBear: I heard you guys talking about sports. You definitely shouldn't be talking about professional sports with a girl like that.

Sportskid: What should we talk to her about.

Me: The Jonas Brothers would probably be more her speed.

BingBear: Or maybe how many dicks she's sucked in the past month. That definitely sounds like her kind of conversation.

I walk up to a girl wearing an "I (Love) My Boyfriend" shirt ("Alison") and immediately start fucking with her and her retarded entourage.

Me: So, is your boyfriend here tonight? Would he mind that I'm talking to you?

Alison: I don't have a boyfriend.

Me: So why the hell are you wearing that shirt?

Alison: Because there's only one guy for me.

Rina: Basically she only has eyes for one man.

Me: Is that guy here?

Alison: Nope

Me: So basically, you're one of those groups of girls that wouldn't talk to a guy if you were in an accident and he was the paramedic who could save your life.

Alison: Excuse me?

Rina: Do you know what the hell he's talking about?

Lisa: No clue.

Me: What I said is Are... You... Here... To... Talk... To... Guys??

Lisa: No we're not. Most guys can't handle us.

Me: Oh really? Why is that?

Alison: You wouldn't understand.

Me: This isn't rocket science, so I could probably handle it.

Lisa: No you can't. We're just that special.

Me: Well then I would like to offer you a challenge.

Lisa: We don't respond to threats

Alison: Come on girls, the open bar is about to end. Let's get some rum and cokes.

Rina: Later loser.

That's the last I saw of these girls, after the open bar ended I guess they went to another bar or something. Who knows. Bitches

I introduced you awhile back to my friend "Dave", who is a bandwagon NY sports fan. How little sense does he make? Listen to this:

Me: So how about Lebron James eh? You think he's really coming to the Knicks this time?

C-Town: Well, yeah the way he left the court. And I heard he was wearing a Yankees hat the next day.

Me: That doesn't mean shit.

Dave: Wait, wait a second. You mean Lebron James is coming to the Knicks?

Me: It's not official yet.

Dave: Man, forget about Lebron James. When is John Starks coming back for the Knicks?

Me: He retired like 10 years ago.

Dave: But I thought Starks was coming back. It was him and Anthony Mason on the news, saying they're coming back to play. I swear.

Me: What planet are you on? What bizarro universe did you hear that news report in?

Dave: It was Earth, wasn't it?

Have you ever started typing something serious, like a job application or business deal or school project, at around 8 o clock on a Saturday night, and then you come home drunk at 3 and on an adrenaline high from the night out, you think you can finish it? That's happened to me countless times. Usually I catch myself before hitting the "send" button, but God forbid my judgement was lacking and I actually sent something out to a hiring organization that I wrote when I was drunk, it would amount to a legitimate disaster. And especially now, when I have about as much chance of getting the job as I do winning the lottery, such a letter would surely put me at the top of the list. I'd love to be the hiring manager that opens this Email first thing on a Monday morning:

To Whom It May Concern,

WHaat's going on, man>?? Like I read about your job posting thingie on the Interweb, and I totallly think I can do it. Likw,like Ican handle filinng and papers and stuff like it's no tomorrow and it's totally no problem. Do ya think it can work for you to like, let me into your company organization%^? I promise I won't do anything wrong, like I did in my last job. OK, maybe I'm not supposed to be tellin you that. Am I slurring? I'm thinking aloud. Anyway man, I really like your company dude. I love what you did on that project and stuff back in like, 95'. When that Weezer song came on and everyone started singing "Sayyy it ain't soooooo". Wait, was that you guys? Oh no that was tonight at the bar,, anyway you gotta hire me because I have mad skilllzz and stuff. And like, I spent over 200 dollars on liquor tonight, this city is sooo overpriced and I need some more money funds and mutual 401 investment bond thingies. Commee on dude, you gotta help me out man.

I love you man,

I mean Yours Truly,

Frank Delorenzo

I had quite the Saturday yesterday. While waiting for the Kentucky Derby, I spent a couple hours drinking at a dive bar with these two great Long Island buttsluts. Apparently, they are quite the "dazzling duo", well known around NYC and their native Long Island. I told them about my site, and they wanted to be on it. Definitely got their wish. ENJOY!:

Monique:... So you're a storyteller eh? We bet that we have crazier stories than yours.

Lauren: Yeah. We've had guys take off all our clothes at parties.

Me: Been there, Done that. What else you got?

Monique: We've done Long Island ice tea chugging contests with Trent Hunter. We won.

Lauren: Yes we did!

Me: Who the fuck is that? Am I supposed to be impressed?

Monique: He plays for the Islanders. The whole team was there. Come on man, I thought you were a sports guy.

Me: Sorry. So you girls are hockey groupies?

Monique: Well that one night we kinda were. Hockey guys are total assholes tho. Anyway, You should create a site for us.

Me: Maybe I will. Tell me your best story.

Lauren: Come on.. tell him about that time...

Me: I am waiting, any day.

Monique: I don't think you want to hear this.

Me: Tell me your goddamn story or I will steal your camera, upload that pic I took of you girls 200 times, start a website called LongIslandsFinestHos.Com, and put the two of you front and center.

Lauren: Oh, I'm soo scared.

Monique: OK, like we were at this comedy club, and you know how when we go to comedy club and you're like, soo scared that the comedy guy is gonna make fun of you in front of everyone? (I'm not even gonna try to correct the grammar there, that's what she said)

Me: I know what you're saying.

Lauren: So Monique was wearing like, sixteen inch heels. And we were like, retarded drunk

Me: You can't be more retarded than you are right now.

Monique: Oh, believe me we were. We did another Long Island chugging contest in the parking lot.

Me: I see.

Lauren: Monique won. So Monique's going to the bathroom, and I was like, "Be careful, you're wearing heels"

Monique: So then, my heel breaks and I fall flat on my ass.

Lauren: Then, like, the comedian stops his act and everyone is staring at her.

Monique: He said something like "Get these girls a towel" (WHY? I could not believe my ears)

Lauren: Everyone was staring at her boobs and laughing

Me: That's IT? THAT's your funniest story?

Monique: Hey Lauren. He doesn't like it. Why don't you get on your knees right now and give him a better one?

(This would usually be the punchline of the story, but you gotta hear how this conversation ended between us. These girls are just beyond... beyond words)

Lauren: Maybe another time. We gotta go. Our friends are waiting. We are like, the funniest people though, remember that.

Me: Facebook?

Monique: We don't use Facebook it's too creepy.

Lauren: Yeah seriously, there was this thing with my ex-BF, and... it's just like so wrong for anyone to be on there. (And ho-ing yourself out to a pro hockey team is just fine? Go figure)

Me: Your number?

Lauren: My phone is getting surgery. I don't even know my number yet. (Just brilliant)

Me: Then how the hell am I supposed to get in touch with you?

Lauren: What's the name of your site? I have photographic memory (Yeah, right)

Me: Scottysstories.com

Lauren: OK, I will remember it...

Given these girls' level of intellectual curiousity, I sincerely doubt it. OK, "Lauren" and "Monique", if you are reading this right now, I would like you to send me an Email. I will not tell you how to do this, you figure it out. If you really remembered my site and can send me an Email, I will... give you a prize or something. My money's on NO!