Live And Kicking

Posted on 10:12 PM by Tony Spunk

March 20th 2011

I promise that contrary to rumor, I have not been in jail.

Not this month. Heh. Sorry about being the shittiest updater ever but sometimes I'm just up to my tits in life, good and bad and I never seem to have time. Either that or I forget to pay the cable bill again and you know. That's a pain in the ass when you log onto your blog at 3am, hammered on Jager and full of stories about hookers who might look a lot like a lady until your finger's caressing an Adam's Apple the size of a baseball. It can happen to anyone, guys.

What have you guys been doing in good old 2011? I hope you've gotten some kicking poontang, be you a lady or a dude. I mean nothing calms the soul like some genital harmony with a fox of the opposite gender, right? Or the same gender if that's what floats your yacht. Tony has no problems with the dudes who like to party in a sausage fest or ladies who do a little clam diving, you dig? It's all good. You all go on with your good funky selves.

As y'all know I'm all about the ladies, despite the fact I might look like a sexy, shiny bastard who can rock pink and knows too much about the life of Liberace. I don't get through a week without some drunken dude deciding I have a Barbra Streisand collection (and I do!) which obviously suggests to them I like to lick dude's taints and I'm okay with that assumption. I'm secure in my manliness.

Anyways, Pedro and I got a hectic spring gig schedule going down the next month or so. There's hardly going to be time to dry clean my satin suits between engagements and I've just spent an entire weekend drinking forties and polishing my organ in readiness. Now I just need a lady to polish my other organ and I'll be golden. Vegas is expecting a new slew of ladies to come in to town to drink some margaritas and encounter a sexy, shiny bastard with a glint in his eye and a zucchini in his pants.

Hope y'all are good?

A New Year A New Set of Trouble

Posted on 10:45 PM by Tony Spunk

Hey happy new year you funky assholes!

Another long gap huh. I can't be trusted, sincerely. I need to be monitored at all times for reliability, preferably by a buxom lady with a giant ass, brandishing a whip. Lately all the buxom ladies I meet have a giant ass, but usually he's her husband.

Ho ho.

So how are y'all? Is 2011 shaping up for ya yet? For me it seems optimistic. I have a couple of ladies interested in taking me to heaven and we're all on the same page regarding commitment or lack of it. No strings ladies. My type of girls. Both are lovely, curvy specimens of ladyhood and although I don't party with both at the same time, as I'm getting kind of long in the tooth for those types of shenanigans, both are delightfully ripe in their own sweet ways. I have no earthly idea what either of them see in a broken down old fucker like me, but thank God for whatever the hell it is.

Probably it's my cock. My cock is my best feature I feel, by far. I don't mean to boast or anything, lord knows I'm a weird looking dude and not all smooth and handsome like some guys, but my cock has magic powers even I don't understand. He brings out the best in a lady. He's a touch on the cumbersome side when trying to squeeze him into tight stage pants, but I hear he's a plus with the gals, although there have been a couple of fine ladies who claimed he was a little much to digest, as it were.

Check me out sitting here boasting about having a big wang, like I was fourteen. It's the only reason I can see that the ladies keep coming back. No pun intended. Like I said, my face looks like it's been rode hard and put away wet and I have the chest of a gorilla unless I go see my little Asian ladyfriend with a waxing kit, but my cock is just the shiny, velvetty pink mayor of Poundsville.

Plus, you know, I dig all ladies and that helps. Ladies like attention paid to their good attributes and they appreciate it. Here's a special secret for y'all, dudes like the same attention. It's an ego boost. So it's a win win situation really. A few well meaning compliments and you ladies can just unbutton my pants here and now and do what you please.

I'm going to start 2011 by confessing something in the name of honesty. On new year's eve, I was in downtown Vegas doing who knows what (I sure can't recall) but the one thing I do remember was some lady who was even drunker than I was, trying to seduce me in the parking lot. She kept bending suggestively over the hood of her car, sticking her big, round patoot practically in my mustache. Luckily I was so tanked I couldn't decide which of the three asses I was looking at was actually hers. Just as well. Turns out her husband is a cop. No one needs a dude of the law chasing him for weeks with a firearm because some fancy drunk guy rear ended his lady. So I staggered off quickly before a felony occurred, but as soon as I fell through my doorway, I retrieved my industrial sized tub of Nivea and recreated the entire thing in my mind.

Turns out there is such a thing as premature ejaculation and those pants will never be the same again. Dumb Martinis.

Was that TMI? Ah fuck it!