Truth in Advertising


Yearning to get lucky with a little strange?  This item  in the Miami Herald ought to keep em home:

These men were promised anonymous sex. They wound up on a porn site instead.

July 18, 2018 07:00 AM

Updated 2 hours 16 minutes ago

I stopped a cowboy one night. As I approached the car he started the conversation with, “That’s all I need, why don’t you just shoot me?”

He wasn’t being aggressive, so much as ironic. I sensed there was more to this than met the eye and invited him to step out of the car. He complied. What I had before me was a no shit cowboy, come to the big city. As he got out of the car the 10 X cowboy hat automatically went on. You could cut yourself on the highly starched and creased western shirt and jeans. The highly polished hand-tooled cowboy boots completed the picture. He told me he was from a ranch about 100 miles outside the city.

He came to San Antonio because friends told him about the club scene on Saint Mary’s Street. As his story unfolded, it was punctuated with asides like, “Just shoot me, or Look at me, I know I ain’t much.” He found the club the friends specified and soon found himself at the bar. He nursed a drink and surveyed the room.

It was early and the place wasn’t crowded. He spotted two chicks sitting at the opposite end of the bar. He characterized them each as “hammers.” For those of you who don’t speak cowboy, that’s a compliment. Much to his surprise they soon joined him. Ever better they bought their own drinks. Pretty soon he is dancing with them, one then the other. On the slow dances, there was a little bump and grind. He never realized that he was such a silver-tongued devil, but their reaction indicated he was.

To make a long story short, he got lucky and managed to separate the two. His new found friend took him back to her place and fixed him a drink. They were soon making out on the couch. Before too long he was making motorboat sounds between her tits but was having trouble getting into her knickers. As he observed, “should have been a tipoff, that chick was strong.” To make up for it he was soon receiving a superior head-job. Seeing his chance, he went for a grope. The narrative was interrupted once again with, “Just shoot me,” followed by the explanation, “Bitch had bigger balls than me!”

I had a hard and fast rule regarding the issuing of citations, tears, threats, sexual favors, and excuses alone won’t get a violator out of a ticket. I want to be entertained with something new and original. He walked.