I took the day off work today to watch Wrestlemania XXI, LIVE! It feel damned good watching a huge American pay-per-view live.
It was without a doubt the best Wrestlemania I’ve ever seen. Hulk Hogan made an appearance and beat the shit out of some Iraqi tossers, Stone Cold made a comeback, and Batista got the Heavyweight title off Triple H.
Finally, a month late, my magazine entitled Level One is on the shelves. Well, I hope so because I gave them to a shop.
One shop. Graphic in Cuba Street, Wellington, may the Lords of Comics bless them. They have not only taken my magazine on, but they are also taking copies to Armageddon in Wellington later this month. Hopefully, that will get some decent sales. I’ve sent it to another comic shop in Christchurch, and I have to ring back a couple of others.
If you want a copy, e me at levelone.mag (at) gmail.com. They’re $2.50 each, or $15 for a 1 year subscription (it’s bi-monthly).
If you’re from overseas, e me and we’ll talk. The prices are NZ$.
Alright, today is catch up day, so I’ll start with the first big event I forgot to blog…
My 30th was going to be a super-huge event with porno games, and ending the night in jelly wrestling.
As it turned out, there was plenty of drinking, plenty of games, buttloads of fun, but no damn jelly wrestling. The two chicks who were going to do it (there were 4 originally, but two wimped out) got busted driving drunk on the way to the party.
I’m glad this happened for two reasons: they’re idiots, and I would have kicked their arses if I had found out. They were told the booze was cheap. They were told they had a ride to the party and back home. But they chose to drink and drive anyway. Dumbarses.
But it wasn’t a complete loss, because we had a great blowjob competition (with bananas thankfully), a bouncing boobie piniata, balloon making competition, water pistol fights and a porno trivia competition. And did I mention booze?
It was fucking great. Apparently I had my hand up one girl’s skirt (who wasn’t my missus), but I don’t remember it. There are conflicting opinions of just how cosy we got, but I am confident I didn’t act out on any of my lecherous thoughts. And rumour has it that I pinched another girl’s hooters (who also wasn’t my missus), and this I am confident happened given that I have a photo of her showing me her fine titties. Damn fine titties.
Sorry Dear.
Moving right along.. my old mate Slayer came down from Hamilton, my uncle came down from Auckland, my traitorous mate Manta didn’t show up cos he was a pussy and got a cold. And driving down from Auckland just would have made him cry. Girly man.
I can’t remember anything else because I was completely fucking mullocked. I don’t think that’s a real word, but too bad.
The next party will be bigger, louder, have more jelly and more naked girls.
Viva la 40th!
