My girlfriend pulled her groin recently, which I admit (and predicted) makes her the butt of many jokes, but the real victim here, as is almost always the case, is me.  You see, Lisa can't open her legs and this seriously limits my social life.  We've had to work on closed-legged "old people" positions that, though enjoyable, lack the sheer animalian quality I appreciate about our sex life.  Maybe I'm sharing too much here, but if I can keep one chick from pulling her groin in the name of hot monkey sex, than I have done my job.  That's right, I consider it my job to help keep open the legs of females.  What can I say?  I'm a humanitarian. 

My friend Peek, like many of my friends, is getting married soon.  Peek lives with his fiancée and another couple.  And that other couple is currently going through a divorce.  So basically, Peek's future is drinking out of the milk carton right in front of him.  And this situation is not deterring him from his love in the slightest.  That, ladies and gentleman, is a sound and stable relationship.  Well… or Peek's a dumbass.  Kind of an "either or" thing I guess. 

Seriously though, with the fucking wedding invitations…  I have received four wedding invitations in the last month.  Weddings are expensive.  The economy is in the toilet.  You'd think people would have learned the value of eloping by now but no… everyone wants to act all classy and shit.  As if a weekend in Vegas can't provide a lifetime of memories.

I'm going to Atlantic City for a bachelor party in a few weeks.  I am literally staying less than sixteen hours.  I'm not even gonna pack a bag.  I've never flown somewhere without packing a bag before.  And I'll be honest, the thought of it makes me feel like I'm kind of super fucking awesome, thank you very much. 

I recently befriended a male stripper whom I met in the gym.  He seems like a nice enough guy even if he does wax his legs and dye his hair.  But anyway, this dude was telling me some of the stuff that he's participated in with females at bachelorette parties and, as a result of what I heard, I just have to get this out to every woman in the world right now: "Y'all some nasty, dirty bitches and you ain't no better than us and we know it so now you know that we know it so let's just all admit, eh?  Full disclosure and all that."

A waitress kissed me on the cheek a few weeks ago for no reason.  I asked her why she did that and she said that she is just "a loving person" to which my buddy Sean replied, "Well, I love blowjobs" and, long story short, we got to meet the manager.  And though he did admit that all men enjoy receiving blowjobs, we were still asked to "tone it down."

And that got me thinking: has any well-behaved person ever been asked by a bar manager to tone it up?  Because that's the kind of bar I would like to check out. 

And finally, because logic and fluidity are too busy trying to pretend like the swine flu is a bonafide threat, I leave you with the following, which I heard from a raging drunk:

"If it were up to me, our government would be made up of the hottest chicks in the country.  No matter what super hot, half-naked chicks do, it's hard to feel bad when they talk to you."

See new Points in Case posts via Twitter or Facebook.

Take comedy writing classes at The Second City - 10% off with code PIC.