Safe to say GinzoNYC upped the ante on the gross factor. Wasn’t sure it was possible, or if I should even publish this but then I realized who wrote it… yikes.
A couple of weeks ago, prior to this whole Sandusky shit, I went to a Penn State bar to drink with some friends and watch the game.
The place was packed and the drinks were flowing. It was a pretty good time and I was on my way to blacking out, getting real dark on motherfuckers. Lucky for all you readers out there, I was completely wasted but remained coherent… That may be attributed to this straight up bro, who went around dumping bumps of blow in the palms of everyone’s hands, including mine.
Penn State won that game and everyone was ecstatic. This includes the sorry son of a bitch who decided to dump a full pint glass of Coors Light on my head… biggest mistake of his life.
(ed. note — read on if you dare…)
I could have completely wrecked this kid — you know, give him the old fist panini. But I wasn’t in the mood for a fight, so I decided to get creative on this fuck-o.
I proceeded to whip out my dick in the middle of the bar and piss all over this guy. He was turned around, laughing; thinking he was gods gift to the world. Dude thought he was hilarious.
Yup, things were real hilarious alright. That is, until the fuck felt the warmth of a Sandusky shower running down the back of his leg.
Too soon? I don’t fuckin think so.
“What the fuck are you doing? What are you doing?”
The kid was fuckin mortified.
“He just pissed on me! He just pissed on me!”
That’s right mother fucker! I did just piss on you. Code of Hammurabi, bitch. Eye for an eye, golden shower for a golden shower.
Then I was immediately thrown out of the bar by some Stephen Jackson lookin’ motherfucker. I told that guy he better get me some points on Sunday. Fuck him, I traded him for Rashard Mendenhall.
Point is, don’t you ever pour a beer on my head. Ever. Unless you want to be standing in a puddle of my piss in a wet pair of jeans.