The Dirty Cooch

Well, unfortunately I did not die in my sleep last night so I have to face another day of complete hatred of my being. On my way home from my dads shop this morning, I stopped at my older brothers house to bother him for a bit. We used to live together in the house I live in now, but he and his wife wisely moved out soon after their wedding. He immediately told me to shut my fat noise hole when he met me at the door because his wife was sleeping. Trust me it was for the best. I immediately helped myself to a cup of his coffee and this led to me having to speed home to unleash hot, burning, liquid feces from my anus. But now as I make some egg whites and a yam for myself (trying to lose some bodyfat because I'm gross), I find I am ready to pick up from where I left off yesterday.
I used to work at a strip club that from here on out I will refer to as The Dirty Cooch. My roommate and I have worked at night clubs and bars in the past, and the manager of The Dirty Cooch was this awesome chick that used to bartend at one of the bars we worked at. She offered both of us jobs as bouncers at the strip club. Personally I was very excited to work at such an establishment and jumped in feet first (and genitals). It is at this point that I can introduce to you my very good friend and brother from another mother, Knuckles. Now after a few nights of working at The Dirty Cooch and getting a feel for the place (and some of the dancers), I found that one of the other bouncers (Knuckles) was actually a neighbor of mine and from here on out we forged a childish and often criminal friendship. Now Knuckles was a little more than 10 years older than me and was married with a couple teenage kids. But one day when I was pissing in the utility sink behind the bar and he was filling a bucket of ice a connection was made. Knuckles was a rather burly guy who had these large mitts for hands that looked more like bear paws. As we began to spend more time at work together we began trying to outdo each other as if we were back in high school.
A particular instance that remains in my mind was when a customer was rude to me right before he stepped outside to have a cigarette. Now I noticed that he had left his bottle of beer on the doorman's table at the front entrance of the club. The attire that the bouncers had to wear at the club was black dress pants, a white tux shirt and a black tux vest (Read: whipped cream on shit). Now after wearing those clothes all night I had built up a decent amount of swamp ass and thought this could be one of those rare chances where I could put something bad like swamp ass to good use. I told my roommate to pay attention to what I was about to do. I scooped up a handful of beverage napkins off the bar and started to undo my dress pants while standing in the club. I undid them enough to be able to reach my hand (and napkins) in between my ass cheeks to sop up some off that festering juice. Now I got those napkins all the way around my asshole and even a little bit IN it to ensure I had acquired enough "goodness" for what I needed it for. I then took my noticeably soiled napkins and proceeded to wipe them in and around the opening of the man's beer bottle. Yum! The smell of shit was radiating off the this customers beer and i then threw away the napkins and waited for his much anticipated return into The Dirty Cooch. The story ends with Rocket (my roommate), Knuckles, and I pulling up chairs to watch this man enjoy his shit garnished beverage. Now Rocket and the rest of the staff were completely taken aback by this disgusting act of terrorism that had just taken place, but Knuckles and I just felt it was all in a days work. I will be mentioning some of The Dirty Cooch, Knuckles, and Rocket in future blogs.
Once again my ADD infected brain is having trouble allowing me to keep writing todays entry(Can you say, Trouble Focusing). So until next time, Kill Yourself.