Can I get my goddamned plug?

Discussion in 'The Bar' started by Chriza, Dec 17, 2013.

  1. Chriza

    Chriza The One Man Gangbang VIP

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    [​IMG]

    Now, more than ever, professional golfers use video to review and analyze their swings. Watching game films and practice films has become commonplace in many professional and collegiate sports, especially golf. Why? Because, visual feedback helps us understand exactly how screwed up our swings really are.

    Every golfer has wished he could see his own swing on tape and see how closely it resembles Tiger’s. But for one reason or another they just never got around to doing it. Having to ask a friend to hold the camera all day or lugging around all that equipment are the typical deterrents. Not anymore… a couple new products have hit the market that make it so easy that every golfer can now have the luxury of seeing their swing on tape. And then analyzing it and then re-analyzing it and then looking at it some more and then well you get it. Exactly what every golfer has always wanted. You no longer have to practice your swing in the grocery store while waiting in line. It can be fixed right at the range or even on the course. Because these new devices are mobile!

    The invention is called “The Video Caddyâ€. Basically it allows you to film your swing without having to bring a Tripod to the golf course. Scott Depace from the Howard Stern Show invented the “Video Caddy†and donated one for us to try out, and I have to say this gadget might be around the golfindustry for quite
    sometime. Scott has really struck a cord with this one, because golfers are a little like body builders they love to analyze themselves over and over again. While in the meantime hardly every fixing anything about their game. But the main reason they can’t fix their game is because they never get to see themselves on video. Almost all golfers complain about not being able to see their swing. Although, most of them go their entire lives without actually ever seeing it on film. And the main reason is because they simply do not feel like carrying all the equipment to the course. “The Video Caddy†eliminates having to bring the most cumbersome piece to the course….the Tripod. And now with cameras getting smaller by the day, you can now stick both the device and the camera in your bag without any issues.

    The “Caddy†does have some competition though and that is the “Golf Video Perchâ€. Same basic principal as “The Video Caddy†but the competition is made of plastic so it is lighter but slightly more expensive. Competition is a good thing in my opinion though…it means their is a demand for this type of product. Both products have their advantages and their disadvantages, but both have a place in the game. These small devices have solved a major problem golfers have had for years.

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  2. Mark Mayonnaise

    Mark Mayonnaise You look like a tree! VIP

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  3. Swedish John

    Swedish John I'm your huckleberry

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  4. beatlejaws

    beatlejaws nowhere poster

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  5. Swedish John

    Swedish John I'm your huckleberry

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  6. Chriza

    Chriza The One Man Gangbang VIP

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    When I ended a five-year relationship a few years ago my friends all told me the same thing: date someone the opposite of your type. My type is as follows: dark-haired, shorter (around 5’8”), small-medium build, creative, musically talented, and usually with some type of fucked up past or sob story. The more damaged a person is the hotter they are to me. What? I don’t know why. I just have a thing for short, brooding brunette types.

    After five years of dating a guy who easily spent $30,000 on guitars, recording equipment, and Joy Division t-shirts, yet always made me pay for dinner and would magically forget his debit card every time we did something that required money, I figured taking my friends advice on dating the opposite of what I usually go for would be a good move.

    I was at a friend’s party when Mike walked in–a guy I had met six years previously in college. Back then I was too busy lugging around half-gallons of vodka walking from party to party every weekend with my best friend arm-in-arm to notice Mike. He was blonde, athletic, Republican, openly carried a gun, and played Mumford and Sons on his acoustic guitar. Mike was the opposite of what I was naturally attracted to. I hated Mumford and Sons – all that stomping. Besides, what grown man has blonde hair?

    This time, though, he seemed different. Although I still hated almost everything about him I figured the whole opposites attract thing sometimes, maybe brings upon great sex. That was my wishful logic anyway, and it’s not like I was looking for a serious relationship at the moment. He was charming and easy to talk to. He came from a picture perfect family with a cookie cutter life, a stark contrast to my upbringing. Even though we had a lot of differences we seemed to click when we were together.

    After a couple of months I knew this relationship wouldn’t work out. Mike was very emotional and I assumed dealing with some mental illness issues I wasn’t privy to. He banned me from watching movies like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind when he was around and told me not to tell him about different headlines in the news because they were too upsetting and he couldn’t deal. One time we were walking and I mentioned what a beautiful day it was. He started crying over that too. Like, real literal tears over the sky being blue and clear on a sunny day. WTF??? It’s the sky, babe, not a Sarah McLachlan commercial.

    His gun dictated where we went and where I was “allowed” to sit in a restaurant or establishment. I always had to face the wall or whatever else so he could have a clear view of the open restaurant “in case something happened” and he “needed to pull his gun out.” Whether we went to the movies, to the zoo, to a concert, or even a family dinner he had to make a big deal about bringing his gun. Sometimes, he would bring a second gun, for reasons I still do not understand.

    Between the constant random bouts of crying, gun issues, and other things, the relationship was filled with all sorts of ridiculousness that annoyed me but I thought, ‘hey, this relationship isn’t THAT serious. You’re not marrying the guy.’ So I stayed a little bit longer.

    Mike felt like he could be himself with me, in and out of the bedroom. I’m pretty laidback and open-minded sexually, so when he talked about wanting to experiment sexually with me I was initially positive about it. He talked about his attraction to men and history of kissing guys, although clearly stating loudly and repeatedly to me he was NOT bisexual and DEFINITELY NOT gay. I’d nod my head, even though it was obvious he was only saying this to ease his own insecurities. He kept talking up his history of anal sex with girlfriends before me like it was the second coming/cumming? lulz, but anal sex is one those things, like The Big Bang Theory and Hawaiian pizza, that I just can not get into no matter how many times someone tries to convince me I’ll enjoy it.

    He told me he had started experimenting with fingering his ass when he was in the shower and had begun researching butt plugs and other sex toys. He asked if I would ever do the BOB (Bend Over Boyfriend) and use a strap-on to fuck him. When I said no he started sending me links to articles on how couples had become closer after doing this together. He asked if it would be okay if he wore a butt plug while we went to a restaurant and if I would pull it out of him when I got home. Da fuq?

    Call me a prude if you want, I don’t care, but can I please just enjoy my steak dinner without the person across from me getting their anal stimulated at the same time? Again, I told Mike I wasn’t comfortable with being involved in any of his anal play. If he wanted to play with his ass on his own time, more power to him, but it wasn’t something I cared to share with him, and certainly not while eating a meal.

    After this happened I knew I had to end it. I watched Seinfeld. I had a cat named Moses. I ate Chinese food alone while watching Dirty Harry movies. I was not the put a strap-on on and fuck a guy in the ass kind of girl this guy wanted. I was traveling at the time and I felt like ending the relationship over the phone or via gchat was a dick move so I waited until I was back in town.

    When I asked Mike to come over, a week before Christmas, he told me he had a present for me. When he came over he was happier than ever to see me. I told him we needed to talk but he said it had to wait until later. He wanted me to open his present now.

    As I started unwrapping the box I realized the gift was not the published collection of Cheryl Strayed columns I had hoped for but instead, it was a pink dildo.

    An 8-inch shiny, hot pink dildo.

    I kept staring at it, unsure of what to say. Then I realized the box had already been opened.

    When I asked Mike about it he said, “Oh. That.”

    He beamed.

    “Yeah…the dildo has already been used.”

    Used?

    “What do you mean?”

    “While you were out of town I took the liberty of using it on myself a few times. Don’t worry. I washed it. Should be clean. I was hoping you’d change your mind on the anal topic. ”

    He was still beaming and excitedly awaiting my reaction. I guess it wasn’t so much that my boyfriend gave me a dildo for Christmas, as it was the sheer fuckery of receiving a used dildo for Christmas, that had been up his ass many times. Like, can a girl just get a nice gift set from LUSH Cosmetics or a $20 gift certificate to Barnes and Noble? Not to mention, hadn’t I already told this asshat I wasn’t interested in participating in any anal stuff? And I’m sorry, BUT WHO GIVES SOMEONE A USED DILDO? WHO?

    We broke up that night and I haven’t heard from him since, but I sincerely hope he found someone to fill all of his anal plugging needs. My friends stopped suggesting I date someone the opposite of what I like and now I have a super cool, graphic designer-doesn’t listen to Mumford and Sons or pressure me to use butt plugs on him-boyfriend.

    Tl;dr: Dude gave me a used dildo for Christmas and it was weird.
     
  7. Swedish John

    Swedish John I'm your huckleberry

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  8. Chriza

    Chriza The One Man Gangbang VIP

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  9. Chriza

    Chriza The One Man Gangbang VIP

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    :lol:

    Fuckin' Pete, man. He was the find of the decade.