stretch his hole significantly (hookup recap over brunch and the aftermath)

From Med School Mess:

7:35am? On a Saturday? As far as I’m concerned, anything before 10am is still Friday night.

A bunch of us ended up meeting at Maracas at 2. I arrived around 2:30 to find Bottomless Pitt and MicHELLe at the bar with Urban Sprawl. The 4 of us debriefed about the previous night’s encounters.

Me: “So, how’d things go with the cub?”

Bottomless Pitt: “Turns out he was totally hairless from the neck down! Dude was hung like this!” He put his hand around his forearm near his elbow. "Woke up in his hotel room this morning."

Me: “And that was the first time…”

Bottomless Pitt: “What the hell is with my this week? First, I let that Russian guy pound me on Thursday, and then the guy last night. But guys can only last 5 minutes or less when I bottom! They better take advantage while I’m in this bottom phase. Lord knows it won’t last.”

Me: “Yeah, I guess the last 3 years is rather short for a bottoming phase.”

MicHELLe, who had taken Hollywood back to his place in HK had a hard time directing Hollywood back to Queens: “I kept telling him that the E train stops right across 8^th Ave, but he really didn’t get it.”

Pitt: “Wow, I got on the train at Herald Square and saw the E running on the 6^th Ave line this morning.”

Me: “Oh wow. That means it definitely isn’t stopping at the stop you sent him to! He’s probably still wandering around Times Square 5 hours later! You might wanna send him a follow-up text.”

Around 2:20, they seated our party of 8, which later grew to 10, at a table. As we were taking our seats, I heard a female voice call my name. I looked up to find my high school track teammate, which was weird because I was wearing a cut up hooded sweatshirt that I was supposed to turn back in to my high school’s athletic department after my last season. We greeted, and she confessed that she and another girl we went to high school with (they were both a couple of years behind me, but it was a small school) have giggle sessions over my blog posts. Sweet!

Our brunch involved too much mimosa, singing, and cackling. There may or may not have been a debate over whether or not Jordin Sparks’s “Battlefield” contains the lyric, “You better go and get Sharonda!”

Most of us took the party to Pieces afterward. 5-foot 8x6 was showing Dirty Dancing on mute, and MicHELLe started filling in lines with this hilarious shaky old lady voice (basically, an exaggerated version of Tracey Ullman’s impression of Andy Rooney... more the 2nd half of this video than the first).

We harassed 5-foot 8x6 until about 6:30 before going to a BBQ on the Upper West Side where the hostess served the best turkey burgers I’ve ever had (with fresh herbs from her backyard garden)! The hostess was wearing a shirt with a hole in the armpit, and throughout the party, he managed to stretch his hole significantly.

Damn the undershirt!

But when the white girl started to mount Med School Mess…

…I took that as my cue to leave.

I was pretty damn tired, but it was Rutgirls birthday. And I don’t see her nearly as much now that she’s done with school. I dragged my ass back to Pieces for a couple of hours before throwing in the towel. Did I mention that I would have much rather have gone to Brooklyn than uptown except that Grrber was out of town for the weekend? Yeah.

Click here to check out what went down last time I trekked out to FiPi (The Fire Island Pines).

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