Behold, another guest writing appearance by DJ Slumpbuster. The kid can't catch a break. This past weekend I had to miss the annual BI trip with my boys and bitches in order to attend my cousin's wedding in Florida. DJ SB emailed a synopsis of his personal Island Adventure. The only other details I gathered involved late night push-up contests and a snuggle fest between DWD and Chowe. A budding romance in the works perhaps?! Below is an email that was forwarded to me by DJ SB after he sent it to Prude-ish Pele. Funny part is that he actually put their real names in quotes when he sent it to her. "Blessed are those who can laugh at themselves, for they will never cease to be amused." Enjoy the mockery he makes of himself.
Subject line: for services never rendered
This is a story of a man, let's call him "DJ Slumpbuster," who was paid the lowly sum of $20 not to hook up. This may be the first instance of reverse prostitution in Rhode Island and hopefully the last. This story begins on Block Island, where "DJ SB" retreats to escape the stresses of being an unemployed college student. For the sake of brevity, this story takes place on day two of "DJ SB's" trip. It was on this Friday that the stalking began. Every few minutes, "DJ SB's" phone would vibrate with an incessant message from an Armenian girl from Warwick, who was threatening to take the five o'clock ferry to the block. This girl from Warwick, I don't know, let's call her "Prude-ish Pele," was serious with her threat and sure enough, showed up at "DJ SB's" yacht around 6ish (DJ SB's yacht in this sense refers to his friend's boat). After "Prude-ish Pele's" third glass of wine, she decided to take "DJ SB" to the hotel where she was staying with a group of her friends. It was a beautiful hotel right there on the main street, perfect for a couple to spend a romantic evening. However, as these friends were also from Warwick (read T), they had this hotel room crammed tighter than a Cuban refugee raft. There was even a bed made up in the bathtub, for not one, but two people. From the hotel, "PP" and "DJ SB" retreated to a bar to enjoy a wonderful set of music from a terrific cover band called "Those Guys Suck." Now, as you all know, after the party comes the hotel lobby. However, as there were thirteen people sharing a twin bed in "PP's" hotel room, she decided to follow "DJ SB" and get late night food and retire to his yacht. This is where the solicitation occurred. As they were sitting in his stateroom, "Prude-ish Pele" made it explicitly clear that she was in no way going to hook up with "DJ SB." She did, however, have no problem making love to his chicken tender and french fry platter that he had so graciously purchased. Once the food was gone, "PP" left the yacht to go back to the late night spot, as she texted, to get some "moose food" (let's assume she meant more). After she had crushed moose food, she walked back to the yacht because, hey, it's better than sleeping in a sink. She begs and grovels for a place to sleep and "DJ SB," the gentleman that he is, allows her to share his room. The next morning, "DJ SB" awakes to a note pinned to a twenty dollar bill, which said, "Thanks for the chicken tenders and for not hooking up with me, have a great day." And that my friends is the story of "DJ SB," the reverse prostitute.
Headed out for drinks tonight with the reverse prostitute himself. Maybe I will attempt to whore him out and his next email to Prude-ish Pele will be an account of what she missed out on by making love to fried food instead of him.
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