Hey kiddies, its Old Papa Dolomite here to tell you a story. This one takes place in a land very near and somewhat dear to old Dolomite. It is the land of drunken escapades. A few nights ago, there was a little get-together at a friend's apartment. She has three of the main ingredients for a kickin' good time. First, she has a bar built into her living room. Second, she has a three month supply of alcohol (which includes all the basics and then some). Third, her girlfriend is one hell of a bartender. This makes Dolomite a happy, though sexually frustrated, drunk.

     The party started around nine at night on a Friday. I got there a little late, mostly because I was out getting a gift, since this was the first time I was over at her place. I picked up a scented candle and some little goodies from Bath and Body Works. Here I am, dressed in nice casual clothes with a gift basket under my arm filled with a few lotions and such. Who opens the door? It was a five-foot tall, flat as a board, black leather-wearing girl with a tall margarita glass (half full) in one hand and a short whip in the other. "It's about time you got here. Boys Unlimited was about to lose my business there," she said in a voice that sounded like she smoked three packs a day for the past thirty years.
     "Umm, is this Ash's place?" was all I could stammer.
     "What! No, she is down two doors."
     "Thanks."
     "I do not suppose you would like to make a few bucks and maybe try out a few of those lotions there?"
     "No, definitely a no there, ma'am."
     A few minutes later I was cozying up to the bar, downing a Long Island Ice Tea, and relating my tale of mistaken addresses to Ash and her girlfriend. Both laugh at the end of the tale, Ash telling me that I should have taken up the offer. I asked why and her answer was simple: "You are one of three straight people at this party. The other two are also guys." Quickly, a conversation begins inside my body.
     "What the fuck is this about!" screams my testicles. "I want some drunken pussy. I am in a room full of chicks, and apparently they are all after the same thing that I am looking to get into. Ahhhhhh!"
     "Calm down, your too testy," remarked my brain. "This simply means that we can drink more. We do not have to worry about making an ass out of ourselves, because we don't have a chance with any of them anyway."
     "Wait a minute there," my liver managed while processing the beginnings of that Long Island Ice Tea. "What the hell are you trying to do to me?"
     "Oh shut up liver," scolded my brain. "You were going to have a lot to do tonight anyway. Might as well do it all out instead of half-ass. Besides, Cousin Jimmy has a matching liver and he doesn't touch the stuff. Bastard is all about those extreme sports, so God only knows how much longer he has left."
     "Okay, then let us get sloppily drunk and hope that none of the gay guys take advantage of our drunken ass," agreed the three.
     "Wait a second there," yelled my anus from down below. "What are you guys talking about?"
     "Nothing, absolutely nothing," said the three.
     Within an hour, I had a large group of empty glasses in front of me. Some were small shot glasses; some were large bar mugs. A few bottles of Bud Ice surrounded my fort of glasses. As drunk as I was, I still had a good idea of what was going on. An hour after that, there was one more empty bottle near me. It was a bottle of peach schnapps. I did not remember opening it or drinking it. However, I could definitely taste peach on my tongue. It was not until a little after midnight that I have any other memories. Ash, her girl, one of the other straight guys, and myself were inside a Pizza Hut. I had no idea where I was, but I could see that none of us were in any shape for getting back home. Ash passed out, shortly after finishing up the third pitcher of beer our table had ordered. Everyone else was sinking fast. It was up to Dolomite to come up with an idea.
     "I am going to order a pizza," I said aloud.
     "Why? Do you want to throw up?" answered Phil, the straight guy.
     "No, but I am going to have it delivered."
     "We are already here man. The waitress will bring it to us."
     "No, I think I know how to get home. Just grab the girls and follow me."
     "Okay. But this better be good."
     So, I walk up to the counter and pay for the beer. Then we left, crossed the street, and got to a pay phone. I called up the Pizza Hut we had just left and ordered a large cheese pizza. The same woman that waited on us took the order, the address for the delivery (Ash's apartment) and told us it would be 15 minutes until it got there. Then we walked back over to the Pizza Hut and waited beside the delivery boy's car. In five minutes he came out, pie in hand. He gave us a scared look, as though we were there to hurt him. I quickly explained the situation and asked for a ride home. I promised a good tip and gas money. He agreed and drove us home. I gave him a buck for gas and pointed to the backseat for the tip. Ash had pissed all over herself and the back seat in her passed out state. That tip I will share with you all: "Never trust a group of drunks."