Meet Anthony, my whore of a guy friend.

Anthony is my best guy friend, we met in college and have seen each other through the best and worst of times.  I already know what you’re thinking, why don’t you date him? No.  Not going to happen, let me tell you why.

I know entirely too many gritty details about his sexual escapades and drunken nights and he mine, if we got married and had to get a divorce we would have to kill each other before we could take the information we have shared to the court system.  Anthony would be a catch for any other girl though, he is a successful engineer, cute, well mannered, family-oriented italian.  All of my friends swoon over him, even after he had to get plastic surgery on his face because I locked him out of my apartment.

Ok story on that, Anthony came to visit me, he went out to the bars with some douchers who did not include me.  Made it a point to say, “Don’t lock me out.”  Someone did, probably me.  I didn’t hear him knocking or calling and the next thing I know I’m texting him in the a.m. and he is telling me he’s going to the hospital because he got into a bit of a scuffle.  Then the next series of texts is that they’re going to do some labs and what not, so I hopped in my car.  Get to the hospital and not only is Anthony in the hospital, he is in the intensive care unit.  Yes, I am aware I’m a flaming piece of shit.  After chatting/flirting with the doctors they had determined Anthony had gotten hit by a car.  He couldn’t remember anything because he was so shit faced but the whole right side of his body was beat up.  That’s right, homeboy doesn’t remember getting hit by the car. Welcome to my circle of friends. He had to have surgery to repair his kidney and had to have plastic surgery to repair a bone in his face.  Basically I sold my soul to the devil after this and told Anthony if he ever needed anything, I mean anything he could always count on the Gizenator. It was technically my fault and all since he was staying at my place, therefore I am responsible for his well being. Bj? Ok be there in 10.  Someone to do your laundry? How about I take it to the dry cleaners?  You need a ride home from a bar? I’m there.  He’s never asked me to do anything sexual but pretty much everything else he has taken me up on, what a gentleman. The only good thing about this is that this wasn’t my first time meeting Anthony’s parents so they were a little more forgiving than if I had just been some rando girl he met at a bar. I had already won them over at Anthony’s family graduation dinner when I told Anth’s mom I amored her outfit. That’s love in Italian. Not really, but she liked my effort.

Anyway,  I’m introducing you to my bff with a penis because we had what might be the greatest conversation ever today about his recent trip to Vegas for our friend Rory’s bachelor party and I needed to share, ASAP.  So here it is. Information I already know going into this conversation: Anthony and bachelor party crew spent over 10 grand at The Bank (the nightclub inside the Bellagio hotel) and that he had gotten a strippers number at some point in the trip.

A: Got a new bb after Vegas….

G: AHAHA did you lose your old one in a stripper’s vagina?

A: No, I don’t know what I was thinking.  I guess the girl wasn’t AS filthy as the rest.

G: Well, still.  She’s a stripper.

A: She lovvvvveed me.

G: I mean, it’s a stripper in Vegas.  They love everyone.

A: Even after I got everyone kicked out.

G: Those the professionals, I don’t know what you were expecting.  How did you get everyone kicked out?

A: I had been telling all these chicks no all night.  #1 because I was paying for Rory #2 because 1 is enough.  And then one bitch comes by, spicy latina, and she’s doing her thang and I told her no at least 6 times, I was not paying for a dance.  Pretty clear.  She gave me all her sales pitches, just really pulling out all the stops. Must not have been a lucrative night for her.

G: Did she offer you an outside of the pants bj?

A: No she just went for it eventually.

G: This is gross.

A: I’m kidding.  Not really, but she finally gave up and was like well how about a preview dance and maybe one of your friends will see.

G: So let me get this right, you liked what you saw so instead of paying the stripper money you got her number so you could get it for free???!!!!

A: No, I got the number of a different stripper, but yeah you are getting the point.  I didn’t pay when she was done so she went and got all her fellas and they kept telling me to pay for an hour and were pushing me toward some room and I was like honestly man I’d rather just leave these girls are garb.

G: Did this all happen before or after you spent 10K at the Bellagio?

A: Oh this was the night before.  At like 5pm.

G: Jesus. Christ.

A: She didn’t j me off by the way.

G: Um, yeah.  It sounds like she did.

A: Ok, maybe with her leg.  But that was it.

G: Even better.  So how did you get the other stripper’s number?

A: She just gave it to me.  Probably trying to get some money.

G: I thought you asked for it?

A: I saw her and her “partner” walking by and I was doing my drunk stare down.

G: So she was a lesbian?!

A: And my girl looked at me and stopped her friend and came over.  So we’re like talking for half an hour.  And then she danced for me and then gave me her number.  I forget what our connection was but she lovvvveed me.

G: I can’t believe you talked to a stripper for 30 min, what a waste of time.

A: What do you think we do at strip clubs? I’ve seen T and P before, I need to get my entertainment some other way.  (Anthony has trouble using sexually explicit terms and abbreviates them with first letter only because he has a great fear that since his company pays for his cell phone they are secretly reading his text messages but won’t realize that T and P stand for titties and pussy.  I tell him every day that he is the only moron working there and they’ve already figured him out.)

G: Well isn’t the whole point of going to a strip club to stare at naked women? Not finding out that she wants to go to nursing school and better her life.

A: Well, I mean we were holding hands.

G: Whaaaaaaaaatttttttttttttttt????????!

A: I’m in a meeting and I’m trying to hold it together, I’ve gotta go.

G: No.  TELL ME WHY YOU HELD HANDS WITH A STRIPPER!

*2 hours later*

A: Giz, I’d really love to stay and talk about strippers some more but I have some work to do.

G: You’re the one that keeps telling me you have to go work and then keep coming back to talk more about strippers.  Stop blaming it on the unemployed friend!

G: Sooooooooo….. did you call the stripper?

A: I texted her the next night.

G: Can you forward me the convo?

A: I just asked if she was working she said something conniving alluding to the fact that she was and I don’t think we talked again after that.

G: Can we three way prank call her?

A: Gizzy, I don’t have the number anymore. I have to go.  It’s date night.

G: You’re a faggot.

*25 Seconds Later*

G: Maybe you could look at your cell bill to get the number?

A: I wouldn’t be able to tell which number it was, I was texting a few different girls that night.

G: Whoa whoa whoaaaaa, who else?

A: You see what I did there?

G: So clever. Whooooo?

A: Some bachelorette chick and some over 40 lady.

G: You are disgusting.

A: They were like 38 actually

G: Did you make out with one?

A: No I didn’t make out that trip. The stripper kissed me and tried to slip me the tongue. But you know, I’m not
easy.

G: Do you realize where that mouth has been?

A: Strippers are people too you know

G: Not in Vegas they aren’t.

A: She kissed me what could I do?

G: Slap her. That’s rude!! Which stripper was it? The one that loved you or the spicy latina?

A: The one that was sexting me.

G: Do you think it would be possible to tell me all of the facts at the beginning of our conversation? Gizzy Things I did in Vegas with Strippers: Got their number, kissed one, held hands, SEXTED WITH A STRIPPER IN VEGAS, got an outside the pants bj…. anything else?

A: I went in the back with the spicy latina.

G: I need to go, this is too much. Enjoy date night you stripper fiending whore.

Another reason why I can never date him, right thurr. But, I am pissed now, #1 what is a bff with a penis good for if I can’t three way call his mistakes and make fun of them? And #2 wtf, date night? He doesn’t even have a girlfriend.  That is a crock of SHIT.  I’m pulling it, I am pulling the best friend card and putting it out on the table.  If he doesn’t give me that stripper’s number we are no longer best friends. End. Of. Story.  You hear that Anth?! THIS IS IT!!!!!! I’M DONE!!!

Also, I hate it when people say awwhh or aweee… it’s aww. EFF!

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4 thoughts on “Meet Anthony, my whore of a guy friend.

  1. […] before I share the video that Anthony showed me of a midget teenage boy lip syncing Katy Perry’s new song Teenage Dream I need […]

  2. […] then I was feeling a little bored so I went on a mini-road trip to a major city near by to visit Anthony and some other friends from college.  We drank some shots went to a bar, you know the […]

  3. […] vey.  So I go to the nearby “BIG CITY” to meet up with Anthony and another girlfriend of mine.  It’s a seemingly normal Friday night.  We go into this […]

  4. […] Monday night Anthony invited me to come to the big city to be his date to the Big City Butts basketball game, to sit in […]

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