Thursday, January 16, 2014

In Utah, a sperm bank employee is in trouble for switching donor’s sperm with his own; his boss told him to quit jerking around.
Even celebrities are excited about the NFL games this weekend; Paris Hilton is for the San Francisco Forty Niners, even though she isn’t sure what sexual position 49 is.
A 22-year-old Irish mountain biker had an accident that gave him an erection for seven weeks; in a related story, his girlfriend had an accident that caused her to walk funny for seven weeks.

He is from Dublin, and his girlfriend’s fun was also Dublin.

Since you asked:

Entered Fallon's hashtag contest with #myawkwarddate. I am not going to win but I should.
On a blind date with a NY super model, she asks me to drop her off at her ex-boyfriend's loft. 
It is also true. 
This big time society player on my flag football team was the top advertisement seller for the New York Times. He was good looking, rich, buffed and he couldn't play football to save his life. As a result, he was always trying to impress me. One day over beers he talked about how fun it is to date Ford Modeling Agency models. He sees I am impressed and promptly sets me up on a blind date. 
When she opened the door to her Soho loft, she was stunning. Striking. Tall. Blonde. Beautiful. Long legs. When we walked into the restaurant, dead silence, forks hit plates. Mouths were agape. That was when the fun ended. 
When we got to the restaurant,  I had switched from a ruggedly handsome and wildly fit ladie's man and Wall Street bond broker, to a pimple-faced, voice-cracking 7th grader who froze solid around girls. 
It made me sick to watch her eat. She ordered swordfish and wiped off every piece she cut with her napkin to get all the fat off of it. Then she excused herself for a 30 minute term in the bathroom - I assume to throw up - and came back noticeably coked up and sniffing constantly.
Turns out I didn't need to talk. She did all the talking while getting sloppy drunk on champagne. Expensive champagne. And all she wanted to talk about was how evil her ex-boyfriend was. He was a model from Brazil who beat her and stole her money for coke and cheated on her. With other male models.  
By the end of dinner, she was loopy- drunk and weepy with sentiment over Pablo or Raul or whatever the hell that douche-bag's name was; she sobbed that she missed him and wanted me to drop her off at his loft in deep Soho.