A Muthafukin Monday . . .

A Monday Night
By Dorian Hanks

Noon - text from Cougar "babe we still on for drinks?" me - "of course!" actually I had forgoten but she was buyin so was glad to be reminded!

8pm - at local dive bar with Cougar.

8:30pm - 2 vodkas in. Get offered Oxy Cotton while smoking outside. I decline.

9:15pm - 4 vodkas in. Cougar is rubbing my cock under table.

9:45pm - Leave bar with Cougar.

9:50pm - Fucking Cougar in her Honda Civic hatchback.

10:30pm - Passed out in my bed. Condom still on.

And that's a mothafuckin Monday

Unluckiest Trackball

Unluckiest Trackball

By Dorian Hanks


"Happy early birthday cuz" said my cousin TheMarine. He handed me a BlackBerry. Now I'm not the kind of guy to buy the newest phone or gadget. Hell the only gaming systems I own now are a Playstation 2 and a Nintendo 64. My cousin, bless his heart, saw the prehistoric phone I was using (a flip phone that had limited features and no internet) and decided to hook me up since he worked for a mobile carrier.
Now the feature my old phone had that I did enjoy tremendously was taking/getting pictures. I had become obsessed with documenting my every sexual conquest and for the most part every girl I was with eventually gave into my constant begging (sad I know) to take pictures. So needless to say when I realized by adding a memory card to my new phone I could store hundreds of pictures I went ape shit! Taking and saving every picture I could. Maybe I'll publish a coffee table picture book one day titled "Chronicles of Hanks: Visual Debauchery".
Needless to say a year after my cousin gave me the phone it was beat to shit. The back had to be held on by tape, the memory was so taxed it would erase messages randomly if I didn't clean stuff out daily, but the biggest issue was the trackball. Now anybody that's had a BlackBerry with an actual trackball (not the pad that simulates one) can tell you these things suck. Dirt gets into them and causes the trackball to stick or not move. The solution? Take off the clip that holds in the trackball and the trackball and clean. Now this is all great and dandy, except for it weakens the clip, and eventually the clip breaks.
Well it happened. It broke and fell out. And I couldn't find it. And it happened on a Friday night. In my buddies car. In front of the club. FUCK. I find the track ball but not the clip. Ok I can make this work. We head in and luckily my friend that promotes at this club is outside so I don't have to call him, and we get in right away and for free.
The night is going good and I'm hanging with friends, talking to girls, dancing my ass off, and buying rounds of Kamikaze shots . . . You know the usual. There are a couple of prospects, but nothing to pull the trigger on that night. Lots of laying ground work. I realize this early in the night and decide to send out feelers to my regulars and see if I can set something up for after the club.
I'm zero for three when I decide I'll try Teea. Teea was friends with another Teea(OG) I was hooking up with regularly (on this night she was out of state). I had only hooked up with Teea once before, and it was during a three way with Teea(OG). A night I like to call TNT (like dynamite and Teea & Teea get it? Whatever I think I’m funny). Well since that night as much as I tried Teea wouldn't even give me the time a day. A real shot to my ego, and I had given up trying. Call it intuition, stubbornness, or desperation but something told me to text her.
She responded fairly quickly. Not common for her. I asked what she was doing.
Teea "Drinkin with my neighbors".
Now this was a plus cause she lived downtown and the club wasn't far from her and I always look hotter to drunken girls. We text back and forth with small talk then she gives me the green light. Teea "Well if you still feel like partying after the club you should come on over". Win. I tell her "Sure" and continue to have a good time at the club knowing I have a good thing waiting after.
At about 2am the crew I'm with decides to pack it in. Just as I'm leaving the club my phone rings and it’s Teea.

Teea "You still coming over?"
Me "Of course!"
Teea "Good! Just call me when you’re out front and I'll come down and get you"

We jump in the car and head towards her place. I tell them I'll jump out of the car a few blocks away from Teea’s apartment that way they can get on the freeway faster to head home. I get out and start walking to her place. About a block away from her place I pull out my phone to call her. Fuck me the trackball is gone! I frantically search my pockets looking for it. No go. It’s gone. Fuck. I realize she was the last person to call me and calmness comes over me and my dick stops cursing me and my phone.
I call and it’s ringing . . . And ringing . . . And ringing . . . And then voicemail. Ok. "She didn't hear it." I tell myself. I call again. Same thing. Again. Same thing. Fuck. I realize I'm pacing back and forth in front of her building mumbling and cursing and the group of people that were standing out there smoking and chatting when I walked up is now completely quite and starring at me. A tall goofy looking guy starts walking towards me. I pull my beanie low, light a cigarette, and go into hood mode. I access the group. 3 guys 1 girl. Goofy heading my way, a short stocky fire hydrant shaped Ginger guy, a medium height Humpty Dumpty shaped guy, and a very obviously intoxicated bobbed hair cute chick in footsie pajamas. Yes the kind you wore when you were a kid with the footsies attached. Now you’re thinking loopy broad right? Well you’re right, but also hot. I think the fact that her PJs were only zipped up to her belly button and she was only wearing a purple bra under them helped in the hot category. Just saying.
Now Goofy and HumptyD I can take. It’s GingerHydrant that worries me. Goofy walks up.

Goofy "You live here man?" (Imagine Spicoli from Fast Times at Ridgmont High)
Me "No friend does. She invited me over but isn’t answering now"

Footsies stumbles over to us and hugs Goofys arm to keep her balance.

Footsies "What's her name?"
"Teea Sanchez" I answer as I look at her tits while looking her straight in the eye (it's a gift).
Goofy "Dude she's our neighbor!"
Footsies "I love that girl! She was drinkin wit us earlier."

My body relaxes and I unclench the fist I was hiding in my hoodie.

Footsies "We'll go get her!"

They head in and I'm at ease. I figure I'll finish my cigarette and be either balls deep in Teea or drinking with her and this crew trying to coax Footsies into showing me her tits in no time!
I realize I hadn't told my folks I wouldn't be home so I dial home and tell them I'll see them the next morning. I finish my cigarette. No Teea. No neighbors. Fuck. I wait a little longer and say fuck it I'm calling her. Then I realize she's no longer my last call, home is. Fuck. I walk over to the door and see that the intercom has a tenant list next to it. I punch in Teea’s code and it starts ringing. Voicemail. I try again. Voicemail. FUUUCK!
I look at my watch its 3:45am. Trains not running. Don't have enough money to catch a cab all the way home. Can't call anyone to save my ass because I have no trackball and memorizing phone numbers is so 1993. I start envisioning sleeping on a park bench. I start questioning my priorities and consider joining pussyholics anonymous.
I see a couple walking towards the entrance of the apartment building. They go in and I slide in after them. I take my beanie off as to not look suspicious. Now mind you I have only been to Teea’s apartment once and at the time I was only focused on pulling off a threesome, so I have no idea what her apartment number is. I remember the code next to her name was 306. I follow the couple into the elevator. They choose the seventh floor and I hit the button for the third floor. They kind of give me a weird look but I ignore it. The doors close then open again. We're on the third floor. I sheepishly look at them and push the button for the fourth floor. The elevator goes up and the doors open. Do I step out and walk away as fast as I can? No. I step out of the elevator turn back to them and tip my pretend hat at them. What. The. Fuck. I don't know why I did it. Maybe I figured if they think I'm retarded they won't judge me.
I start looking at the apartment numbers. They are ALL 306. Well they all start with 306. As in 30604, 30607, 30649. Wait 30649? What the fuck!!!! What kind of wacked out fucking Alice in Wonderland building is this!!!! I wonder the hallway hoping Teea or her neighbors come out. Or that I find a window I can jump out of. I somehow end up down a narrow hallway with a door at the end I go through it and there’s a stairwell. I go down the stairs open another door and now I'm back outside. Fuck. I put my beanie on, my hoodie up, light a cigarette and shuffle to the front of the building. I look at my watch and its 4:03am. I was only in there for 15 minutes?! It felt like hours!
I'm about to find a cozy bench to call home for the night when this angelic voice cuts through the cold crisp night - "Hanks?" I turn and there's a pair of sleepy, sparkling green eyes staring at me. It's Teea. Her red hair up in a ponytail. Her freckled round cheeks are bright pink from the cold. She's wearing a grey hoodie, sweat pants, and no shoes. She was the most majestic beauty I had ever seen . . . And I wanted to punch her in the fucking nose!
Me "WHAT THE FUCK!!!!"
Teea "Sorry babe I fell asleep."
Me "I've been calling you! Were you on a fucking heroin bender?!"
Teea "I left my phone at her place. Sorry."

Till this point I hadn't noticed that Footsies was hanging off Teea’s arm. Her eyes were wide open and she looked like she thought I was going to pick her up and use her like a bat to break Teea’s knee caps. I took a quick look at Footsies tits, closed my eyes for a second, and imagined doing dirty things to her and Teea. I call this “Centering Hanks”. I open my eyes and turn on the charm.

Me (big sigh)"I'm sorry babe. I've had a fucked up night and all I wanted was to see your beautiful face." I step towards her with my puppy dog look and place my hands on her hips and like an auto button she reaches up takes my head and guides it to her bosom.
Teea "Awe sweetie."
I take my time there and give her a slight squeeze. I pull away and pull my phone out of my pocket. I show it to her. She giggles "You poor baby." And she gives me that look that says 'I'm going to make it all better . . . By fucking your brains out'. I'll take it.
Goofy ended up being Footsies boyfriend so my hopes of using that purple bra as a blind fold on Teea were shot, but it would be plain greedy at this point to complain. Teea made good on her promise and believe me by the next morning I was grinning ear to ear. As I did my walk of shame to the train the next morning to head home I thought 'I gotta tell Junior (my best friend) this story!' I reach in my pocket pull out my phone and it all comes rushing back to me as I stared at my trackballess phone. Then I felt this slight nub under my index finger on the side of my phone. It hit me like a George St. Pierre roundhouse to the face - BLACKBERRYS HAVE VOICE DIALING! . . . I'm an idiot.

Stripper

Stripper

By Dori an Hanks

Bang! Bang! Bang! "Hanks I know you're in there come out here now!" That was my ex girlfriend banging on my window at 4am. Knock knock knock "mijo go talk to da beesh pa que se calle!" That was my mom. The naked big breasted completely silent and wide eyed girl next to me was a stripper named "Jade". How did I get here? Well I blame it on this great city I live in.
We have the most strip clubs per capita. In the country! As a young energetic and gullible 22 year old I was infatuated with them. When I turned 21 I made a pack with my eyeballs and crotch that I would go to EVERY strip club in the state. My wallet was pissed.
Now after about six months of hitting the clubs hard I was about 15 into a list of about 45, and my friends were getting sick of going to one strip club after the next. Who would have thunk it? To tell you the truth I was too, so did I stop going? No. Hell no! I found a way to make it entertaining again! With that many clubs in one city there's gonna be some seedy and questionable places among all the glitz and glamour. Those became my new targets.
Now some of these were just amazing.

The Beavers Inn - Resembled one of those portables at schools that the districts pass off as classrooms. Yeah those. Except painted orange and black (Beavers colors).

The Dancing Bare - Complete with giant neon sign of a dancing bear and the word Bear crossed out and replaced with "Bare". The highlight of this place? A fusion pool table. I shit you not, two pool tables diagonally merged into one with neon lights.

The Sandy Jug - Probably my favorite. The building was shaped like . . . You guessed it A JUG!!!!! With a fucking handle and everything!!!!

And the strippers. Oh the strippers. They matched the atmosphere. Stretch marks, tattoos, and bullet wounds. To say the least. I actually had one stripper tell me the long convoluted story that went with her STAB SCAR!!!! Yes sir the cream of the social crop.

It was in one of these sticky floor gems of establishments I met Jade. Now after all that you're probably thinking this broad’s a dog. Well she wasn't your classics orange skinned, bleach blonde, and giant stiff fake tit stripper. She had dirty blonde hair, milky white skin, bright green eyes, this thick body with great round tits and an ass that would make a black man weep. All packed into a 5'2 frame (shorter than me is always a plus). What she was doing stripping at the Landing Strip (you guessed it about 10 min away from the airport) I didn't know.
The first time I went to the Landing Strip it went like most of my visits to such places. I'd walk in with which ever friend I had dragged along and look over the place. Hit the bar and order a Pabst (I thought I was a hipster). Find a table not too close to the stage but with a good view. Watch the girls while making snide remarks until one caught my eye then I'd hit the rack. Eventually get bored and head out to the next place or a night club.
Well as we were heading out I saw her. Sitting at the bar consorting with the bartender and the regulars. I made eye contact, and thought "Damn must have missed her set!" As I reached for the door knob (yes it was a knob not a handle) to head out I hear "hey" and someone grab my wrist. It was Jade. She looks me right in the eye and says "You're too cute." Hands me her number and heads back to her stool at the bar.
Now I'm thinking "What the fuck?" Shit like this just doesn't happen to me. Now I'm not ugly but I'm not the kind of guy girls see and say "I'm gonna fuck him!" No I'm the guy that you're friends with for years then one day you're face down ass up going "How the fuck did this happen?", shortly followed with "I should have done this years ago!".
So I have this strippers’ number. Do I wait 2 days to call per the man rule? No. 3 days? No. 1 week? Nope. 2 WEEKS I wait to call this broad! I'm Dorian fucking Hanks rules don't apply. Ok let's be honest I'm lucky she remembered my stupid ass. We make a date . . . for a Wed . . . because she's a stripper.
In trying to be safe I assume, she asks me meet her there instead of picking her up. We meet downtown at a bar and because it’s a Wed not much is going on. The conversation isn't bad and her tits are spilling out of her shirt so I'm staying interested. The atmosphere was more than lacking. Then she said the magic words "I wanna dance". Now I know what you're thinking . . . "Take her to a strip club!!!" . . . And because you think that way I'm better than you. No she's at a strip club 4 nights a week. She wants to feel normal for once. So I put my plan into effect.
Dorian "I know this place on the Westside (where I live) that gets packed on Wed, has a great dance floor, a pretty good DJ, and till midnight $1 drinks for girls". Her eyes lit up! Then she got kind of pensative.
Jade "Um could we just take your car there and you can drop me off back here afterwards?"
Dorian "Sure hun. No problem." Yeah right. I read this chick like a book. We were gonna get there, she was gonna grind her ass into my crotch, get drunk, and then say she can't drive home and stay at my place. I have said it there for it shall be. Sure as shit the night went just as I thought.
Now throughout the night I was getting texts from my ex Lucy. Now Lucy is that one girl all guys have. You know the one that really fucks you up emotionally and consequently you make all other women pay for her sins. Yeah that bitch. She had recently moved back from California and was trying to rekindle our romance. By this point I had grown tired of the games especially since I found out she was banging some douchebag in a souped up Honda. At first I answered her texts. And I answered them truthfully.
Lucy "What are you up to?"
Dorian "Out with a chick I met a couple weeks ago."
Lucy "Well I'm bored talk to me Papi."
Dorian "Go talk to your Douchebag"
Lucy "Whatever I'm at my tias. Come get me after."
Dorian "Maybe" hey I had to keep the option open just in case things didn't pan out with Jade.
Throughout the night she texted me over and over. To the point I stopped responding. Once I stopped responding to the texts she started calling! By the time I got home with Jade I had just turned off my phone. Well then the scene at the beginning of this story happened and when I went outside to talk to her guess how she got to my house? That douche bags white fucking Honda!!!! "My tias" my ass! I talked her down and sent her on her way and drove Jade to her car the next morning before I went to work.
Jade and I never really went out again mainly because she was a stripper and the novelty wore off fairly quickly. Of course I told her it was just her schedule. There was one night that sealed her ejection from the Hanks rotation though.
A couple weeks after the Lucy debacle Jade texted me on a Saturday night.
Jade "I'm at work. Come see me!"
Dorian "Out clubbing with friends"
Jade "Meet me after and follow me to my place"
Dorian "ok" fuck yeah I was going to hit it again.
I get to the Landing Strip just as she putting her luggage (yes actual suitcases most strippers use them for their "costumes") into her car. Now remember last time we met at a bar then went in my car to the next place and back to my place. When I dropped her back downtown I left her in front of a parking garage, so until this point I hadn't seen her car. BMW? Mercedes Benz? Infinity? No. A Ford . . . Tempo . . . From 1992! Now I'm not one to judge people based on their vehicles (I've driven a goddamn Chevy Citation), but it threw me for a loop none the less. The back seat . . . Oh the back seat. I couldn't see the fucking thing because there was so much crap on it! Clothes, fast food wrappers, empty soda bottles, shoes, . . . And a baby seat! To this point she hadn't even mentioned having a kid! Now I'm drunk, horny, and in the complete opposite side of the river from my place so I pretend I saw none of this shit. We get in our cars and I follow her home.
Where was her home? The Northeast side of town. You know the side of town that has a liquor store or a gun shop on every other corner. Or both. Straight hood. By this point my cock is driving the car not me. We get to her place and I do the gentlemanly thing and dig her luggage out of the landfill she called the back seat of her car and carried it up to her house. She opened the door and her place looked like the TV show "Hoarders"! Her living room made her car look like an operating table in comparison!!! In the middle of it a dingy gray sofa with two fat black kids asleep on! She wakes them up and shoos them upstairs as I stand in the front doorway looking in disbelief.
Kids "Who's he?"
Jade "A friend. You'll meet him in the morning"
The fuck they were.
We walk down to her "room" which was actually a basement converted into a bedroom, and by converted I mean a bed and a toilet were shoved into the dark damp hole of the house. Next to her bed a rolling cart with a 12" TV and a DVD player on it. On her bed . . . a baby! Doesn't this chick believe in birth control?! She takes the baby upstairs somewhere.
We get into bed and she puts on some movie I gave to shits about. We proceed to fuck. At this point I just wanted to bust a nut a get the fuck out! My pride gets a hold of me and I make sure she cums a couple times before I pull the trigger and finish. We cuddle for a little bit, and then I head to the "bathroom" to take my condom off. As I'm pissing a giant roach scurried by my feet! That's it I was fucking done! I threw on my clothes and ran out giving her some excuse about having a family event the next morning.
After that anytime she texted or called I kept it short. She got the picture quick and stopped calling. Months later I went by the Landing Strip just for the fuck of it, but she wasn't working there anymore. So now when talking to friends I pull the "I fucked a stripper" card when bragging about conquests. I just don't go into the details.

I DIDN’T HAVE A THREESOME WITH AN AMAZON WOMAN AND A MIDGET!!!!!

I DIDN’T HAVE A THREESOME WITH AN AMAZON WOMAN AND A MIDGET!!!!!
By Dorian Hanks

(Reference "Da Crew" story for names below)

Fathertime - "Yeah? . . . well you had a threesome with a giant Canadian woman and a midget referee!"

Me - "Fuck you! I did not!"
Dr. Scalpel - "Bwahahahaha!! Yeah you did"
Pinky - "Tell me it wasn't HALF bad. Ahahahaha"
Me - "Fuck you guys"

The above exact conversation happens about once a month and has for about 3 years. You see back then the WC crew and myself were putting on hybrid punk rock/pro wrestling shows at a venue a friend of ours owned. Dr. Scalpel and his mentor provided the wrestling talent and El Technico booked the bands. Well for this specific show the Dr. had managed to book some Canadian wrestlers and a midget referee. El Technico used this show to get this Canadian chick he met online to come down and party with us. This was also around the time Technico had decided to corrupt my young life or as he called it bringing me up to my "full potential". The Friday the Canadian Destroyer (CD) arrived was quite interesting and will be a story in the future. The show was the following Saturday and throughout the show I noticed CD kept giving me a smile here and there. After the show Technico was nowhere to be found and CD was looking for him. I had given both of them a ride there and I had no idea where the fucker was. Fuck you Technico. Well it got to the point where she was just ready to leave, and that's when Dastardly Dan the very drunk midget referee waddled/stumbled over to us and slurred "CD how you gettin to the mo? I need a ride". I being the good (and horny) guy I am had offered CD a ride so now I was stuck giving Dan a ride as well. Fuck you Technico. The drive to the motel consisted of CD rubbing my cock and Dan yelling nonsense out the window while slipping in and out of consciousness! We get to the motel and now Dan wants to keep partying . . . with us . . . in her room. Fuck you Technico. Luckily CD was having none of that and carted him to his room that was next to hers. Last thing I heard Dan say was "awe at least let me watch". Fuck you Technico. The rest of the night was drunken debauchery at its best including CD looking me straight in the eye and saying "My pussy's getting too sore. Just put it in my ass." Thank you Technico. Well after telling the crew the next day about it they all came to the conclusion that I was lying about Dan not joining us and had indeed had a threesome. Fuck you Technico. To this day the fuckers still give me shit.

Dorian Hanks . . . I hate midgets . . .

Da Crew

Da Crew

By Dorian Hanks


Ok since alot of my future stories will involve this group of crazy fucks I thought I'd introduce them.Around 2003/2004 I found that a small group of guys that gathered every Sunday at a sleazy neighborhood dive bar ("The Dive") to watch prowrestling. Since it was every Sunday it got dubbed Wrestling Church. Now I have been an avid fan of prowrestling since I was a child (yes I know I loose cool points for this but my cock is still way bigger than yours so I win), so I decided to check it out. I became fast friends with this motley crew and still am to this day. This is the "Clergy" of Wrestling Church . . .

Jake Castle "El Technico" - Founder and self impossed leader. Also became my mentor in the ways of morally bankrupt women. I owe this man (along with Jack Burton and a hand full of sex vixens) alot for creating who now is Dorian Hanks.

Dr. Scalpel "The Champ" - Multiple time champion for local wrestling federations and ring rat collector.

Fathertime - Oldest of the crew at 103. Old punk rocker turned corporate web designer. Lived in New York in 70's and L.A. in the 80's so always has a story of an ex-girlfriend who fucked "so and so from that famous band"

Lance Wetfarter "Pinky" - Midwest born Northwest corrupted. Overall nice kid from a "Christian" family we managed to influence into getting heavily tattooed and date a contortionist.

Dorian Hanks "Hanks" - Began as the quite guy in the back who kept showing up to the guy that'll take a pic of your sister sucking his cock with a Wrestling Church sticker on her forehead.There are other bit players, but this is the core group . . . The Clergy