Part 2
Okay, so I ditch the bar and head to my favorite alley to relieve myself, which at my drunken state happens ever 5-6 minutes. This is the best pissing alley in the whole city as far as i'm concerned. The alley itself is in the shape of an L and has a fenced in dumpster that is unlocked. Public urination during Mardi Gras will get you thrown in jail faster than jerking off in the punch bowl at the Policemen's ball. You gotta be smart, quick and cunning to pull off such a feat. I am none of the three but fuck it, the line for the Port-o-potty is like three deep. So I hit the back of the alley where I am greeted by about a half dozen guys who have just finished relieving themselves and welcoming me to paradise. I search for a bush that has the, "Give me a golden shower Daddy" look and I spot the perfect shrubbery. I unzip, look around, reach DEEP in my pants and free the monster. The concrete was cold and brittle so I used my left hand to pull the big guy up some. "Wait, is that squirrel watching me?" "Fuck you squirrel" I yelled. The furry rat poised in the attack position from the tree did not flinch but I did hear the guys behind me ask each other if I was yelling at my dick and if so who calls their cock a squirrel. Fuck them, they couldn't possibly understand the predicament I am in. Stage fright has fully set in and my bladder feels like at any second it could detonate sending cheap beer, tequila and Jager throughout my innards. That's right folks, I get stage fright. If you don't know what that is, it's when a guy can't piss with people watching him. This doesn't usually happen to me but this squirrel had a fire in it's eyes, I trusted nobody. My mind was running a thousand miles an hour until I came up with the perfect plan, Kill the squirrel. I chugged what was left of my Coors Original bottle, got into a pitching stance (dick still out) and delivered my fastbottle. "Holy Shit" I thought to myself "My drunk ass actually hit the squirrel." I don't know if I killed it but that fucker dropped a good fifteen feet to the ground at which time I lost site of him. I was free at last, free at last. God almighty I was free at last, to take a piss.
I walked back to the parade route and my buddies started asking me all sorts of questions about why I had one lesbian crying/puking and another meaner uglier lesbo running around New Orleans looking for me. Hot Lesbo had run back to her trucker girlfriend crying about the way I treated her and throwing up everywhere so the butch went on a hunting expedition for me. Obviously this Rosie O'donnell had no idea about my beer bottle skills. Alas we were out of beer bottles but the show must go on. I told them we should hightail it out of their before Jabba the hut gets back and they agreed. We walked about 8 blocks trying to find a taxi while all of us argued over where and how to get a taxi. One finally came by. We jump in and the first words out of my mouth were "Bourbon street mother fucker I want some titties!" this was when we decided that we were going to Bourbon street. The cab stunk of shit and of course the drivers name was Ahkbar so of course my two ass hole friends in the backseat started grilling him on the war in Iraq and whether or not he was related to any terrorists. I told them to shut up and listen to the Dune Coon music. (I didn't really use the racial slur dune coon, I am usin' this term to show the stupidity of my friends asking him all these questions because of his race so stop sending me messages calling me an evil racist) They told me that what I said was offensive. Oh well I tipped the guy five bucks and never accused his uncle of flying any planes into buildings. After my Dune Coon comment they felt the necessary punishment was to punch me in the back of the head several times. This will not stand I proclaimed and warned them if it happened again a savage beating was awaiting them at our stop. They laughed and quickly delivered two sharp blows to the back of my head. The cab stopped three blocks from Bourbon street and he told us to get out and walk the rest, I guess he couldn't take a joke, Fuck him. Anyway, I am paying the guy while my buddies get together outside of the car and begin talking. I get out and without warning, throw a thundering right hook straight into New Orleans Marcs stomach. He stumbles back several feet gasping for breath. "I told you mother fuckers to quit didn't I? Didn't I you couple of ass holes? But no, you two ass hats had to push me." At this point Racist Nick knows he has one coming too so instead of getting caught by surprise he says "Ok Graham go ahead, i'm gonna get mine out of the way." Very honorable of him, still gotta punch the guy. N.O. Marc is still catching his breathe when I deliver this blow. Slightly winded he bends over and proceeds to puke all over the sidewalk narrowly avoiding my shoes. "Hell yeah I thought to myself" I had just beat the puke out of a guy.
The boys gain their composure and we finally land on bourbon street. It is go time.
Part three of this multi part story will be out in a few days if I get over, lets say..... 25 comments (no more than 2 per person) and 30 Kudos.
The reason I am doing this is because if people don't want to hear the rest of my story I don't want to type it. I should be studying or getting a job right now but I am sitting in front of a fucking computer pandering to you, the reader.
-Graham
DamnCrackers©2007