Connor Visits Crazy Horse Part 1

Day 1: 

I arrive into NYC at 19:00. Myself and Crazy Horse, both being of sound, mind decide that we should take it easy on the first night so we rock up to Crazy Horses Local... Details of events are vague but this is what appears to have happened. 

After drinking somewhere in the region of 10 pints and 12 shots I am on top of the bar trying to access the taps and hug the barmaid (who is a monstrosity). Crazy Horse has fallen asleep on the bar and his pal Eddie is trying to wake him up.

I get into a heated argument with this absolute bitch of an old lady from Ireland, called Maeve, about genetic replication and natural selection as a catalyst for evolution. The argument went something like this. 

Maeve: It's really nice to meet someone from Ireland over here! So where at home are you from Connor?

Connor: Look Meave how else do you explain whats happening with Swine Flu and other viruses?

Maeve: Where?

Connor: No it happens at the genetic level!!!

Maeve: What are you talking about?

Connor: EVOLUTION Maeve! EVOLUTION!!!

I showed her.

After sharpening my debating skills it decided it was time for a round of those things Charlotte drinks in Sex and the City. And sure enough the Barmaid is obliging! I skull down mine, delicious! Crazy Horse throws a shot of Jameson into his, takes a sip, then looks at the barmaid like someone had kicked him in the balls. 

"I'm not drinking that... It's DISGUSTING !"

Before he finished his sentence I fired it down the hatch and tried to get behind the bar once again.

Next thing I am told is that I was outside throwing garbage cans down at basement apartments as crazy horse is hurling his guts out. 

Sometime after this I have my first clear memory of the night. It involves me dangling from a 6ft cast iron spiked fence around a old church by one of my pant legs. Crazy Horse had bounded over the thing, with what to my drunken mind looked, like a Gazelle. Next thing I know two local police are on the scene!

Policeman #1 : "What the hell is going on here? This is private property !"

Crazy Horse : ..... (Crazy Horse had slipped into what appeared to be some sort of standing coma)

Connor : (As I dangled from this fucking fence, my favourite jeans torn to shit) Yeah... I tried to take a short cut. It didn't work.

Policeman #1 & #2 : LOL

Crazy Horse: PIZZA !

Once Police man lifted me up by the free leg and the other one unhooked me. Then the sent us on our merry way! BOO YA! 

If there is a lesson here somewhere its that when dealing with police... always agree with them and make it look like you are a harmless idiot (which in my case is pretty easy).

Day 2 was actually quiet after the madness of the night before and doesn't contain any wisdom for your greedy little minds! Day 3 and 4 I'll write up soon...

Blame it on Rio part 2, yet another short story by Crazy Horse

Strap yourseves in  and feel the Gs fuckbags!

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I’ve been to Brazil numerous times but I learned after the first time, bjj training was for the asexual among us, real men go to party.  This trip I by-passed the training and nearly killed myself n the process. This time I brought my buddy Nestor with us. He is a fashion photographer who has no problem picking up chicks but there is something magical when he breaks out the camera.  He can make anyone look amazing and after a few clicks we generally have a line of women posing.  

This trip brought no calm before the storm.  I meet some of my friends at a Bodega turn bar/rodizio at night with plastic chairs and tables outside on the warm night. My Brazilian buddy had just broken up with his girlfriend and in the mood to party hard so he broke out a bottle of scotch to kick off right. Nestor breaks out the camera and soon we have 10-20 girls joining us. We take some names and numbers leaving promises to meet up later as we decided it was time to hit the club. 

Susio tells us we are going to the hottest club in Rio and by this point I am pretty bent. When we arrive the line to get in is a mile long, literally.  “Don’t worry, my brother” He tells me “we’ll talk to the guy at the door.” Our crew, then twenty deep and mostly professional fighters, pushes our way through the line to the front. I actually felt a little bad but then again these guys were the locals so when in Rome…  As it turns out, they don’t actually know the guys at the door and what they meant by “talk” was run over. We bum rush our way inside and scatter to the four winds until the ruckus dies down.  At this point, I think it is a good idea to keep a low profile so I start chatting up some chick at the bar comparing tattoos when a waitress comes by with a tray of shots in test tubes.  Keeping with the ninja persona I’ve taken on I decide to purchase the whole tray, stand up on the bar stool and start throwing them out to everyone.  It is actually quite difficult to spend $300 on alcohol in a bar down there but not when you pull this same stunt three more times. 

By then the jet-lag and the booze are taking their toll.  Mentally I have checked out but physically I danced on for hours.  The light turned back on in my head sometime around 3AM when I realized I was in a conversation with some chick named Bianca.  Blah, blah, blah… I’m a musician…. Blah, blah, blah… I’m having a BBQ tomorrow.  A BBQ? Hey, can I get in on that? Baby, that’s why I am telling you.  So I take the number and move on.  I may have mauled her too but I am sure I probably did during the blackout anyway. On the ride home, I can’t remember what she looked like and I was sure her musical ability laid along the lines of Zamphir the Pan Flute so I decide not to call her. 

Next Night is the big one that I’ve been waiting for, the Chemical Rave in the Tijuca forest.  This was insane.  Nestor (camera in tow) and I are there and hit the scene like VIPs. I am downing vodka and red bull and am already tweaked on weed. Tony Manero had nothing on me as I danced up a storm with too many chicks to remember.  At one point I ended up on a Brazilian television program filming the rave. There were thousands of people, grinding everyone. Among this mass I happen to run into Bianca I blew off earlier.  Damn, she was hot.  I threw a bunch of “Babies” and “I called you but I can’t figure out the area codes down here”, enough to set up a meet and greet the next day. 

We move on and I am back on the hunt.  We have settled into the VIP section which has a raised dais with mattresses and couches, no joke, and at this point have pulled a few of the models working the event. It was later I would realize that having a camera always with us was a double edged sword.  It attracts chicks but it leaves a trail of evidence. I pick up one of the girls and throw her on the couch approaching her like an Aztec sun god. Forgetting all around me I proceeded to rail the shit out of her.  Needless to say, thanks to Nestor, I will never be able to run for public office (outside of Vegas). 

Eventually, the sun comes up and we party on until noon.  It was then I realized that I had no sun screen and if we didn’t get moving I would die. I convince the chicks to drive us home. That was a surreal moment in the trip.  Here I am in this chick’s car, she barely speaks English and I just generally want to get away afterwards.  I can’t help but look at them after and think I can’t believe what you just let me do to you.  That couldn’t have been comfortable for you. It is then that this chick’s son calls her and for some unknown reason puts me on the phone with him.  All I can mutter is “And what is your name? Are you doing well in school? Did you know your mother could put both legs entirely behind her head?” Luckily, I make it back to the hotel room with only a minor bit of shame. 

Now what to do with the musician? At this point I don’t want to see her.  I assume this is definitely some classical music BS.  I decided once again to drag Nestor along.  Bianca as it turns out is the lead guitarist in an all-girl Brazilian punk band and was once again hot as hell.  I have the memory of a dog and soon as a chick is out of sight and out of mind I assume the worst. Now I am digging this and am ready to lay the smack down on any dude that come near her and her too for the hell of it. Problem is that I’ve slept a total of five hours in three days. That’s like trying to get an erection at a Weight Watchers convention. Even in the best of times a guy needs a little help and thank god we have our top scientists focusing on what matters flaccid penis syndrome and male pattern baldness. Fck cancer!  I pop a few like M&Ms Nestor and I take Bianca and the bassist back to their apartment and I don’t leave for another week.  Once again missing my flight home and calling work to say I lost my passport and couldn’t leave the country. 

Crazy Horse gets violated... A first person account

If you haven't read the first part of this STOP NOW and go HERE first. This is Crazy Horse's side of the story... I can't stop laughing!

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Ok so here is what happened.  The evening starts off nice, dinner and our usual conversation of sexually laced banter full of innuendos and dares like taking her panties off at the table and passing them to me to hold onto. She tells me that she has recently broken up with everyone and is looking to get control on her life, perhaps settle down.  I’m thinking we got a good thing going. Why ruin it? As a male I ignore these threats to focus on the goal at hand. We can deal with this later (or not).

She wants to tie me up. Not something I’m into but I acquiesce thinking she will just ride me, etc. but no. She gets me naked and in this Japanese rope bondage set up, new trick, and I am wracked with pain.  You can’t move to a position that isn’t unbearable. What happens next?  She leaves the room to watch TV, clean the apartment and pay her bills. WTF!?!  Occasionally, she drops in to check in on me and by “check in” I mean verbally abuse me – telling me I am a worthless, pitiful, disgust her, etc.  Occasionally, I get a slap across the face but that apparently wasn’t the point of this. I am not sure what was.  I would have preferred to be beaten. Personally, I am not into that type stuff but this mental torture was horrible.

I kid you not, by this point I am frothing at the mouth with rage when she decides to finally let me out.  I become a wild animal then ravaging her as I have never ravaged anyone in my life – think about a fat kid diving into chocolate cake at a fat camp.  Twice.

This girl wants to settle down and I am honestly afraid as to what that means.  I finally found someone more deviant than me and I am not sure I like.  I haven’t closed the door on it but for the first time I am just not sure. LOL

Crazy Horse gets violated

This is the email conversation I had with Crazy Horse earlier today....

CH: I don't think I can hang with MC anymore  *MC, by the way, is the bisexual Fuck Buddy of Crazy Horse* .  We are bad together.

Connor: Why so?

CH:  Well first, what we do to each other isn't normal and her level of deviance is starting to exceed mine and second, she has broken up with her gf/bf and is starting to think she wants to settle down. The last one is a major red flag since it is not an option for me. LOL

Connor:  LMAO... deviance worse than yours?? I find this intriguing... do tell.

CH:  It left me with a bit of shame. LOL. I can't put it in the work email. You'll have to wait until I can email you from home.

Connor: I certainly hope nothing entered thine sacrad cavity of holiness?

CH:  LOL. I knew that is what you would think but, thankfully, no. Trust me she has mentioned it before but I told her that I would seriously kill her if she tried. 

Connor:  You sir sit on a throne of lies!! I can smell the dishonesty from here... You have been sodomised. Either PDP will grant you god like powers or cast you into his bottomless belly for this.

CH:  LMAO!!! Upon my very soul I was not!!! May PDP strike me down. Which he likely will regardless but you get the idea.

All I can say right now is that it was more along the lines of what Mark would enjoy  *Mark, a friend of CH, likes to be beaten and tied up during sex. This came to light one night when a stripper began to spank him and he began moaning in pleasure to the shock, delight and amazement of everyone else there. He especially enjoyed it when she caught some ball with her lashings*. I prefer to be the one in control and with all the power, I do not like being helpless. It actually pissed me off quite a bit honestly. The only benefit is when I was set free I was like a wild beast.

Connor: ROTFLMAO !!!!! I don't care this has to go on the blog

*By the way, I think he has been mentally scared by this.... Yet more emails later in the day*

CH: While I accepted her request I was laughing the whole time thinking about telling you. LOL

I am going to write this up because it is funny.  Mostly it was verbal abuse and leaving me in the fcking room while she did other things in the apartment. 

Connor: HAHAHA! That is fucking awesome!!

CH: The worst thing about it, and she probably knew it, is that I am an extreme extrovert.  I hate being left alone and/or ignored.  I was going absolutely crazy.  But she had been learning this Japanese rope stuff apparently and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.  I would have preferred to be beaten.

<- Japanese fucking rope work and mental abuse... Only fucking Crazy Horse could get himself into that situation. 

Blame it on Rio - Part 1, Another short Story By Crazy Horse

So here it is folks... Our favourite guest author, Crazy Horse (who is crazy by the way), has been kind enough to write up another story to tantalise our senses and delight our minds. This one, being part of a mini series of uncompromising brilliance and audacity, takes us on a sleaze ridden ride to the beautiful beaches of rio de janeiro... enjoy

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Let me start off with some gross generalizations – Brazil is the best place in the world, nobody works, everybody parties, nobody has any inhibitions and Viagra is sold over the counter. People may scoff at the last bit and say they don’t need it but trust me after a week in Brazil you most certainly will. Half the time I took it before going out just to give me the incentive to meet people.  

The women down there are incredible – beautiful and super friendly.  Now there is an obvious “grass is greener” thing going on here. My Brazilian friends hate Brazilian chicks because you either have to have money, be somebody or be from the US/UK for them to give you the time of day.  However, these same guys make a killing with the chicks in NYC so I say take advantage of what you got where ever you can. 

I arrived in Rio not knowing what is in store for me and worse still knowing that I get bored easily. I generally like places that are a little shady and potentially dangerous.  I knew this would be a good trip as soon as I got into a cab on my way to the hotel when I saw a 6’6” tranny throwing a cinderblock at a cop car. I thought to myself I’m going to like it here. 

The trip started off great when I scored first at the exchange counter.  I caught this girl’s eye, smiled, and then waved when she walked away.  Not thinking much of it I was practically tackled when leaving the exchanger.  I don’t really know what was said, or care, since she barely spoke English and I only speak broken Spanish (not Portuguese) but the jist of it was I like you, here’s my number call me and we can hang out at your hotel.  We did and it was that night that I thought “Someone told me you don’t need a prescription for Viagra down here. I’ll have to look into that at the Pharmacy tomorrow.” 

Among the motley crew I was with, three of us stood out – myself, Brad from Iowa (all the Brazilian chicks called “Leonardo Di Caprio”) and Chino (Chinese guy).  Women would approach us on the street under any pretext – “Hey, I like your tattoos. Here’s my number.” After a few days of training and only mild partying the wheels came off the wagon as I kicked off a bender.  I bought two arm’s full of 40 .oz beers, Chino scored some weed and we made a gravity bong.  At this point I am uncontainable, bouncing off the walls and screaming at people in Chinese curses I picked up on my travels.  My friend Rafael pleaded with me to relax as he was afraid I, an obvious gringo, would end up in a favella (which I did) and would get mugged (which, by the grace of PDP, never happened). 

That night, in particular, was funny as we headed out to a club where I decide to play up the Leonardo Di Caprio thing.  Brad didn’t know it yet but he copped on pretty quick to my game.  Anywhere he went I would stand at his shoulder with one hand covering my ear and the other in my pocket.  When he went to the restroom, I checked it out first to make sure the coast was clear. I stated rather loudly that I promised his “manager” that I would get him to the studio by the next morning no ifs, ands or buts.  It was at this point that the gaggle of girls around us asked who he was.  “Why, he’s Danny Doyle from America’s newest pop group the Flash Bottom Boys.” I was an ex-special forces operative now working security to the stars of course.  To sell the story, I then purchased a few bottles of champagne and reserved a table, at seven real to the dollar it was like a cup of coffee. We later took the party back to the hotel room and gave the girls a story to remember, not to mention some autographs – worth $0.05 on eBay. 

Now this is not to say that I am without heart.  Truth be told, I fall in love every time I go down to Brazil.  Later in Sao Paolo I met up with some other friends. We go to a bar/club/restaurant thing sit down for a casual meal and a chat.  My buddy’s wife goes to the restroom and as soon as she leaves the girls next to us come over and tell my friend he is hot. He says thank you and moves on.  His wife returns when I see the most beautiful Japanese/Brazilian girl in my life. My friend’s wife then gets up to talk to her to bring her over.  While she is away the other girls approach us again and tell my friend that they really like him.  He replies that he is married to which they say “We know”. God I love this place. My friend’s wife comes back with the chick in tow.  She is excited to meet this guy from New York and she has always wanted to go there (they all do).  I tell her that I’m an ass model and she asks me if I think she could be.  I give her a good feel and tell her that she needs some work and there is a gym around the corner (not true, you could bounce a quarter of her ass). Anyway, I then proceed to tell her that her parent’s lied to her about her Japanese heritage as she is obviously Chinese and refuse to hear any of her arguments until she offers to take me around Little Tokyo the next day.  The next day turns into five as I missed my flight and stayed with her until I ran out of cash.  I thought if I could put her out to hook I could stay longer but I decided that I actually liked her so I left her with a false name, number and a promise to take her to New York. 

The last thing I remember from that trip was a Brazilian girl telling me that they like foreign guys because all Brazilian guys cheat.  After all, it’s not a like a foreign guy would traipse halfway around the world, leaving his girl back home, and hesitate to hook up with a scantily clad, sun-bathed beauty.  Nah of course not. We’re made of sterner stuff than that. 

Stay tuned for part 2....

SHYTE !!

OK on a good note I had sex with that Dutch  girl last night. On a bad note I fucked her sans condom. FUCK! Completely her fault I swear... Too many details to go into here to explain but fuck I hate that shit... Ruins perfectly good sex. Now I am awash with images of little Dutch Irish brat floating around looking for money off me and shit. At least it would be good good looking... FUCK. On a good note she is very very hot. Damn it anyway... Disgusted

On another good note here Crazy Horse, father of insanity, has written a couple of articles about his times he went to Brazil. These are jam packed with lunacy.. I'll post them up during the week. 

Entrapment - A Short Story by Crazy Horse

Entrapment:

OK folks, Uncle CH here has been invited to tell a few stories so buckle up, sit back and enjoy the ride.  I have subjected myself to a lifetime of abuse so you don’t have to or at least you can cut to the good stuff sooner.   

I title this chapter in the day as “Entrapment” because a place that serves you liters of beer, gorges you on mountains of bratwursts and parades a bunch of idiots around you is only asking for this sort of trouble.  I probably glossed over a few points and I’ll leave it to Connor to fill in his version of the events (which I am sure will be nothing but a vicious pack of lies to besmirch my good name).  The shame of it all was this was my favorite bar. Members of our pack have since tried to get in only to be turned away.  I have very few regrets in life but this is one of them.  

There was an infamous trip where Mal and Connor had come to visit me in New York.  It was Mal’s first trip and undoubtedly his last (for shame). Day 3 into this trip we had already single-handedly funded the educational aspirations of New York’s finest strippers and had decided to do something special in light of our plans to attend Oktoberfest later that year.  The day started off innocently enough with calling a few barroom heroes to meet up at my place for Rock Band, beer, shots and generally get prepped for the day ahead, it was 10 AM after all. I should add that I was masterful on the (mock) guitar while Connor pulled a diva refusing to play the songs on the set list (*I told you I wouldn't sing gay sings unless you got me the tray of green M&Ms, edited by Connor*) . 

We finally staggered out of the apartment around 1 and got to the bar by 3 - a trek that should have taken 30 mins but lasted. Moving this drunken lot was like herding cats which we all know this is difficult even for a Scotsman with a claymore in hand on a dark and stormy night confronted by cats, which is secretly a coven of witches.  PDP be praised but I digress. 

Anyhoo, we get to Zum Schneiders which is a classic German beer garden filled with a never ending series of hipster douchebags that now populate the lower east side of NYC.  Gone are the glory days of hardcore, squatters, homeless and the shamelessly horny. Now it is all Disney and NYU. A friend of mine who had been waiting for us there told me that we had to “catch up” by chugging a liter of beer.  Despite drinking all morning I found myself incapable of arguing with that sort of logic so I obliged. Over the next several hours we consumed six-seven liter steins of beer and a mountain of bratwursts.  Mind you Connor and I were not ordering the food, our friends were. We were just the guardians of the pass and exacted a heavy toll on any order the waitress tried to get past us. 

We were quickly descending into madness when the waitress recognized Connor and I, because we are awesome of course, but also because we tried to tell her our friend Kal Varnson was in love with her and proceeded to start an impromptu version of the dating game among the attendees. The cacophony from our table kept rising as I tried to lead the bar in a rousing rendition of “Deutschland, Deutschland uber alles” thinking it was the German national anthem and Connor posing for every camera in attendance. Somewhere in this mess I noticed a group of hipsters gathering at the table next to us. They were all wearing the uniform – jeans, button up shirt (tucked in) and baseball caps.  Like a bull I zeroed in on the one wearing the red cap who immediately drew my ire with his inability to chug a liter. A stein got broken and our friend Rousseau (a rugby-sized French chef) grabbed one of them by the throat.  While technically they did nothing at all to us I am sure they deserved it.  The cowered off in the face of our sheer machismo but it was at this point that the manager, rather arbitrarily I might add, now decided it was time for us to leave.  Filthy Phil pleaded with them in German that we would behave and from the jaws of defeat we were saved and allowed to continue on with our festivities.  Unfortunately, this is when the evening started to take a dark turn. LOL 

Bathroom break - this is when things go a bit grey.  Mal and Filthy Phil were conversing about god knows what when I spun 180 degrees to punch a mirror directly behind me.  I have no idea why I did this but I am sure there numerous Freudian implications.  So now I am standing there with glass embedded in my hand when the manager opened the door. “You’re out!” “For what!?!” I snarled back before breaking up into laughter.  I kick opened the stall door in the bathroom to grab Connor who had now fallen asleep, no idea how I knew he was in there.  We begin to stagger out the door, breaking steins on our way, trying to figure out where to carry on the party. Most sane people would go home at this point but we carried on – after all what I thought was a broken hand only turned out to be a severe infection.  Who would have thought a bathroom mirror would have been so dirty. 

Its 6pm, we have no idea where the children are and I am looking for personal redemption. 

Redemption:

After the debacle at Zum Schneiders, we decided that we needed to go to a place where we could chill out a bit.  It seemed some of us, not saying me, were getting a bit unruly and at this point, the bratwursts and beer were storming my stomach like the Wehrmarcht across Poland.  BTW – I can make WWII jokes.  My uncle died in a concentration camp during the war.  He fell off a watch tower. 

We ended up at a hookah bar to smoke water pipes. The world was already in a terminal spin so why not add some Turkish tobacco.  I am starting to realize that I am going to be down for the count soon unless I do something drastic so I go to the bathroom, luckily no mirrors, to purge and rally.  It works like a charm and I am on the rebound. 

Connor by this time is on the dancing floor like a whirling dervish teaching the belly dancer some new moves. I grab both hookah pipes, tear off the filters and imbibe the sweet, sweet nectar….

*If I remember correctly, after that we returned to the non-judgemental solace of our neighbourhood strippers, edited by Connor*

The End

Me and Crazy Horse at the Gay Bar, Gay Bar!

This one is from 2006 actually but Crazy Horse(who is crazy by the way) has been reading this lately and I'm afraid he may physically harm me if I don't talk about him more. 

I was over in NYC staying with Crazy Horse. It was the last full day of my visit and I had just returned to costa del Crazy Horse at 3pm where he was diligently working from home. 

Connor : "Word"

Crazy Horse: "Jesus Christ I am swamped here, so much to get done"

Connor : "Wanna get hammered?"

Crazy Horse: "LETS DO IT!"

Then crazy horse came out with possibly the greatest suggestion ever. 

"I'll break out some of my old kung fu movies and every time someone dies we have to do a shot!"

We both thought this was fucking genius and immediately selected the shot of choice, baileys and brandy. Then we fired up the first movie, I think it was "The 5 deadly venom's" or something. Well whatever it was about 1,000 people died in the first 5 minutes. By the end of the movie both the bottle of baileys and the bottle of brandy were gone. 

Cut to 5pm and Crazy Horse is swinging his horse chopper (basically a kung fu staff with a MASSIVE fucking blade attached to one end of it) around the room like a maniac. I am sure in his mind it's with perfect form but this fucking thing is swooshing past my face. And, like, I am so ossified, I am just sitting there delighted with this, clapping like a retard, about 5 inches from having my head cut off. 

Next thing CH remembers that he has to go meet his fiance at 5:30 for dinner. Like Frodo and Sam we get our shit together and head for the hills. Now its still the middle of the day and the two of us are completely blasted. We enter this restaurant in a blaze of glory, like the 5 deadly venom's themselves. I am high fiving all the patrons and the staff and crazy horse is struggling for balance demanding wings and Manhattans (which we both hate). Crazy Horses fiance makes a very good decision to get rid of us ASAP and swiftly calls our friend Paul (who is gay) and pawns us off on him. 

Now the next thing I remember is being in some bar in the middle of Manhattan with Paul and 

Crazy Horse. By 9pm I had robbed a life sized card board cut out of some dude for a lottery advert and Crazy Horse had tried to start 2 fights and had gotten the number of 1 (probably heinous) barmaid. Obviously Paul, being of sane mind, is trying to escape from us and figures there's one place where we won't follow him... THE GAY BAR !

On hearing of Paul's impending escape plan Crazy Horse was outraged!

"Where the fuck are you going?"

"To the gay bar, OK?"

"I WANT to go to the gay bar!"

I had never been in a gay bar and I was like, fuck it... I'll go!  So we meet up with Paul's friend Freddie (who is flaming gay and hilarious) and off we go. I have to tell you I was sorely disappointed by this place. It was basically just a cool bar that was 90% full of guys. I was expecting it to be fucking crazy with Madonna or Gwen Stefani blaring and guys running around with Tom Selek moustaches in assless chaps trying to hump everything that moved. 

We immediately start on the shots. I am so hammered I buy a bottle and immediately smash it on the floor. The bar tender just hands me another one and now I'm thinking this is the greatest place ever! I've recently been listening to Electric 6 and after another few rounds of shots and I'm dancing on the spot like Mugatu screaming at all the gays

"YOU......I've got something to put in you.... In the gay bar, gay bar !"

Picking out random dudes and shouting at them

"YOU....Have you got any money?"

"Um..."

"I want to spend all your money... "

Of course what happens next... Some queen (not my words) tries to start a fight with Freddie for some reason or another. This guy clearly wasn't counting on Freddie having a crazed hetro friend in the place who is a 2 time golden gloves champ. Quick as a flash our drunken hero Crazy Horse takes up the quest and beings to smash this guy. About 5 minutes later the whole lot of us are cast out and banned from setting foot in there again. 

I wake up the next morning face down on Crazy Horses floor with his dog humping my head. Crazy Horse was comatosed on his couch... Slowly he came to. We looked at each other for a minute or two.... what the hell happened yesterday?

Connor: "Were you swinging that fucking horse chopper around in here yesterday?"

Crazy Horse: "I think so"

Connor: "Crazy Horse, were we in a fucking gar bar last night?"

Crazy Horse: "SHIT! I think so"

Connor: "Did we get kicked out?"

Crazy Horse: "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

Paul didn't talk to Crazy Horse for about 2 months after that although Freddie thought he was his personal knight in not so shining armour. 

Not one gay in the gay bar even tried to chat me up... Pitiful! 

Inside the mind of Crazy Horse

I got an email from Crazy Horse earlier this morning. 

I met a former boss earlier this morning to catch up. He told me about the guy who used to be the head of our IT department when I was with xxxxxx.  He cracked up about my response.

 "John has been through quite a rough patch but seems to be doing well now that he has the new company set up."

"Really, what happened?"

"First, his dog passed away. Then the old company went under. He got hired by JP Morgan but got laid off. His wife of X number of years came out to him that she was gay and leaving him for another woman."

"Wow, that sux about the dog."

LOL I am sure he was 100% serious about the dog comment. Friday again, fucking hell! Where's time going to at all?

Have a good weekend !

Getting to know Crazy Horse

Crazy horse is often an integral part of my stories, even though he actually lives in another country! I've mentioned him a lot in my blog already and as much as I'd love to write a little essay about him I've realized that there is no way to describe this man that will do him justice. So I will just list some facts (which have been verified).

1.) Crazy horse once fought Roy Jones Jr

2.) Crazy horse is the guy who is most fun to hang around with of anyone I know

3.) Crazy horse has been divorced once

4.) When referring to his ex-wife he generally starts the sentence with "That Fucking BITCH!"

5.) And generally finishes those sentences with "I'd still fuck her though!"

6.) Crazy horse has *NO* standards, though he claims he does

7.) Crazy horse is a 2 time golden gloves boxing champ from philli

8.) Crazy horse once seriously told me that he hears "demons" if he is left alone for too long

9.) Crazy horse makes up the most fantastic lies known to man when talking to girls... for instance everyone in his office in London thinks that he regularly fights in the UFC and that he is a drummer in a rock band. I once caught him telling a girl that his parents died in a freak kiln (the things you put pottery in) accident and left him with a vast fortune. 

10.) Crazy horse is currently engaged and cheats like there is no tomorrow

11.) Crazy horse is nearing 40 but is more eager to party than anyone else I know

12.) Crazy horse appears to be almost devoid of ego... which is good because he never takes himself too seriously but bad because he is liable to do anything and won't feel bad about it after

13.) Crazy horse has a very good job for a very large bank

14.) Crazy horse has a scar about 6 inches long across the back of his head where once he was hit with a tire iron during a massive neighbourhood brawl in philli 

15.) Crazy horse has the funniest stories I've ever heard

16.) Every girl I tell about Crazy horse says she would hate him until she meets him and then LOVES him

17.) I think Crazy horse works because when you hang around with him you are always between a state of excitement and fear

18.) As Mal once pointed out... If Crazy Horse had just a little less charisma you would think he was INSANE instead of brilliant. He has just enough to get away with it

19.) If the world reverted back to tribal times tomorrow, I would be VERY worried that Crazy horse would probably butcher me

20.) Crazy Horse and his divorce lawyer were once chased out of Mexico by a gang after an incident with some "loose women"

21.) While on holiday with Crazy Horse in Spain he had sex with 3 girls in 3 nights. 2 of the 3 cried afterwards. Even Crazy horse thought that unusual

22.) Once while having sex with a stripper Crazy horse destroyed a hotel room, smashing her though a plasterboard wall at one stage... he mantains that she liked it rough

23.) Once a bisexual girlfriend of Crazy Horse brought her lesbian GF to crazy horse for a threesome so that the GF could be fucked by a man for the first time. After the lesbian said she never thought it would be so rough and won't be having sex with men again.