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That's What It Said
Alright, this is going to take some actual effort from you... more »
Alright, this is going to take some actual effort from you jagaloons...you'll need to READ! Come check out my website about US Marines at their finest, being drunk, hazed, prison-raped, and taken advantage of by their superiors. www.gusmcoy.com.
I'll post one of my personal favorites here,
Getting the opportunity to explore Dubai was a dream come true. When our ship was close to approaching the city, I took it upon myself to do a lot of research on the culture and sights of the magnificent metropolis. I was excited to go out and explore the Sharjah Blue Souk Gold market, see the famous Burj Al Arab hotel, and go 4 wheeling on the beautiful outer sand dunes. There was no shortage of beautiful architecture in the city and the people seemed to be extremely open towards Americans. Dubai filled my progressive-conservative ideals about a culturally unique, yet westernized Arab city. I was ready to experience paradise.
When our ship pulled into port, Ski, myself, Mini, and Mickey were waiting with boundless anticipation to be allowed off of the ship and let loose into utopia. I automatically assumed that my chosen libo partners were looking forward to the same sightseeing opportunities as I was. When liberty call came, we rushed down the gangplank and headed towards the first cab we saw. We jammed into the cab and the Pakistani driver asked us where we wanted to go. There was so much I wanted to do. I figured that since I had done my research, I would be the cultural liaison between the Emirates and my friends.
I was just about to suggest some culturally exciting destination when Ski decided to interject, “Take us to the hookers!”
The cabby was expecting this request, “OK buddy, I got the place.”
It seemed like Ski had done some research of his own.
We arrived at the front of the Astoria Hotel Dubai and exited the cab. It appeared to be a nice enough place. We walked through the lobby and into a restaurant called TGIT (Thank Goodness it’s Thursday), “Thursday” because of the Muslim holy day on Friday. We went straight to the bar and sat down. It had been a few months since we had any alcohol, so our first drink hit us quickly. We were conversing with each other and I noticed an abundance of women crowded in a little hallway connected to the bar. They were crammed in there with little space to move, but they had their eyes constantly locked on all the men in the bar. I asked the Arab bartender why there were so many women standing in the hall.
“Oh, those are where we keep the whores my friend. They not allowed to come in the bar, but you go to them.”
They not only kept the prostitutes in a hallway, but they seemed to have one from every corner of the earth; African hookers, Russian hookers, Chinese hookers, French hookers, Indian hookers. It was like the United Nations of whoredom.
Right after he said this to me, I leaned over to let Ski know where his precious prostitutes were located and I realized he had been gone for a while. I turned to Mini and Mickey, “Where the fuck is Ski?”
“Oh he left with a hooker like 5 minutes ago dude.”
Ski was already in the john zone.
I just kept drinking though, one whiskey and coke after the other. It wasn’t but a half-hour before I had an overwhelming urge to urinate. I asked the bartender, “Where’s the bathroom?” He informed me that it was in hooker alley.
I got up from my seat and walked to the edge of the bar and the hallway. The prostitutes started to salivate at the prospects of bagging my military rich American ass. Little did they know, I just wanted to get to the lavatory. I stepped into the pile of women and it began–Though this be madness, yet there is method in it.
There was about 10 of them. They went crazy like animals. They grabbed, tugged, and pinched every part of my body–EVERY PART! If it wasn’t for the fact that these women had been worn down from years of penile reception, I might have loved this treatment. The only thing I wanted to do was take a leak though. I timorously moved through the hooker ocean until I got inside the restroom. After a quick breather, I took my leak. When I left the bathroom it appeared that the girls had called for reinforcements. There were 20 now, and I again was sexually humiliated as I attempted to get back to their off-limits sector in the bar.
When I made it back to my bar stool, I was spent. Minnie was gone and Ski was just coming back into the bar. He went into graphic detail of his girl and I nodded as I listened to his sexual encounter with his comfort woman. Ski got his and I would have recommended that we move on to some of the tourist attractions if it had not been for the fact that our other libo partners were now MIA.
Ski, Mickey, and I continued to drink for about 45 minutes before Ski again got the lady itch. He was gone, Mickey was gone, Mini was gone, and I had to piss again. I walked back up to the hall entrance. The ladies where waiting for me. I was hesitant. I gathered myself and decided to go for it–Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.
I was prepared this time. I put my hand over my privates and moved. The only problem was that since my hands were concentrated below my waist, the rest of my buddy was exposed and I had no way of maintaining my balance. My body went slamming into the wall and the ladies of the night as I desperately tried to protect myself and find my way to the head. They didn’t relent. They just kept yanking and grasping at my helpless body with nipple pinches, ass punches, tummy pats, and ear pulls. It was humiliating and I tried with all of my heart to protect my privates as I eventually went barreling through the bathroom door and into safety. I lay on the floor in the fetal position for about 5 minutes before I could pull myself up to go to the bathroom. When I was done I ended up pacing back and forth for another 5 minutes trying to plan an escape route. I just had to go for it.
When I stepped back out, the hyenas pounced. I had my hands over my head and blindly made a dash for what I thought was the hallway entrance. Instead, I ran head first into the opposite wall and hit the ground with a minor concussion. I was now forced to low crawl out of the hallway. This is where my Marine training came in handy. I was actually more productive in combat crawling my way out of Lake Whore than when I had tried to push my way through earlier. When I finally made it out of the pile of women, I was coughing and fatigued beyond belief. I picked myself up and moved back to the bar stool where I sat down in complete humiliation.
NEVER AGAIN!
Ski eventually came back with Mickey and they began to tell me how they put on a muscle flexing show per their two hooker’s request right before they got their money’s worth. There was still no sign of Mini, but Ski looked like he was looking for round 3.
I informed Ski of my ordeal in order to find some sympathy in the hopes that we could leave and do some sight-seeing. He instead went right to the sea of battered vagina with his hands up in the air and happily got molested by the women for about 20 minutes before he actually stepped foot into the bathroom. Yeah, Ski knew what he was doing.
Ski eventually left with yet another woman of the night along with Mickey, and I was again left to the wolves. It wasn’t long until the whiskey and Coke caught up with me and I was realizing that I had to walk the gauntlet again for relief. I had to dig deep this time. My Marine training had taught me that violence of action and aggressiveness was the only way to overcome my enemies. I had to just go for it with all hate and ferociousness, or risk more sexual harassment from the marauding band of whores. There were about 30 of them now and the odds were stacked against me. But I had to go.
I walked to the edge of the hallway where the women were waiting for me. We stood face to face. They all locked on to my position and took a cannibalistic posture. They wanted my blood, and my money too. The whistling theme song from “The Good, The Bad, And the Ugly” was ringing in the back of my head as I stared the awaiting hookers down. I just went for it—Cry ‘Havoc,’ and let slip the dogs of war; That this foul deed shall smell above the earth with carrion men, groaning for burial.
I leaped into the masses of money hungry wenches with all hatred. I flailed and swung my arms with the utmost of passion, blow after blow. I had no particular target, just suppression fire, in order to push my adversaries back and away from me. My helicopter punches were soon joined with the type of precise kicking Marines use to knock down doors. I was moshing. The aggressors began to back off and I made my way into the bathroom without one grab of the junk from them.
I was victorious. My pride had been preserved and my self-esteem redeemed. I urinated without any fear of going back out into the suck. When I opened the door from the bathroom, I saw complete carnage. Half of the prostitutes had fled. Most of the remaining women were pressed up against the wall in fear and a few of them still lay on the deck from my previous charge. I stepped over the bludgeoned losing combatants and entered back into the bar area.
The bartender was looking at me with amazement. I initially thought that I was in big trouble—imagining a life spent in an Arab prison–but he instead said in his thick Arab accent, “Buddy, I have never seen anyone stand up to them like that.” It was as if I had slayed the Wicked Witch of the West–Things won are done, joy’s soul lies in the doing.
I sat at the bar for a while until Ski, Mickey, and Mini made their way back to me. They saw the wear in my face and they finally conceded to let me have my way in town. My great cultural experience was about to begin. We went to the waterpark–Though patience be a tired mare, yet she will plod
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Keep your pants on...

