GoldSteel's blog

People, I have been a lot of places and seen a lot of things.  And, being of that age, I have seen many-a-girl that like to enjoy their drinks in a responsible fashion.  Of course, to these girls, enjoying this aspect of life responsibly means downing six glasses of the finest boxed wine and calling Travis on the phone and saying, "Why the fuck did you hang up on me earlier!?" in a loud tone of about 120 dB (that's drunk bitches, not decibels).

That makes a nice segue, because before I go any further, I need to define something that I will continuously refer back to in many coming articles on BIG HOT SHO:  DB.  What is a DB?  In short, a DB is that girl at the bar/party/game that has had a few too many nips of Southern Comfort and has now thrown her arms up in the air and shouted Woooooooooo!!!  In the Oxford, Mississippi scene, this is sometimes followed by a rousing Gosh-a-mighty.  But being a DB doesn't mean you just drink a whole lot and shout really loud.  Being a DB is more about lifestyle.  Let's list some common attributes:  out every night, poor grades, permanently hoarse voice, permanent cigarette smell, and probably walking on a newly repaired broken heel.

Today, however, I would like to focus on one specific aspect of the DB lifestyle rather than discuss their wide behavior.  What I want to talk about is the Casual Homosexual Encounter Story (or CHES) and how unfair it is to men.

Rather than explain endlessly, allow me illustrate my topic by giving you a snippet of conversation I heard at a party a few nights ago:

These girls are pros, and when they're hungry for dick, they know that all they have to do is regale some derivative of that story and the men will hound them all evening, hoping to get the private version of the tale.  Did your nips fill the entire nose orifice?  Could you fit them in both nostrils at once?  I need to know exactly what song was playing when you started the grinding process.  These are all details that the guy needs to know so that he can make a mental deposit in the SpankBank for later.

Now, let's turn the tables on that story to demonstrate my point.  Imagine now that Blake and I tell the same story with the same hopes of filling the girls attention with images of us: