Two weeks before Christmas I quit smoking. That becomes salient about now. A couple of days before Christmas a guy I know, marginally, told me that he needed me to appear at such and such bar so he could win a beer. I figured that if knowing me was worth a beer then being me had to be worth two or three. The thing is that, prior to quitting smoking, the trip would have been beyond me. I simply wouldn’t have had the endurance. But, even then I was feeling a lot better so I agreed to drop by.
I wandered into the establishment at the appointed time and was greeted by the, self-proclaimed, Hippoteers. First the demographics; there are 4 women and two men. The women range in age from 27 to 43 and the men range in age from 33 to 39. Two of the Hippoteers describe themselves as deriving of Anglo heritage, the rest are mixed and matched across the board.
Second, some history; not all of the Hippoteers claim English as their first language but all of them are fluent in it. It seems that, sometime last October, one of them wandered into our site for the first time. While, as far as I know, that requires a search which involves the words “nude,” “African” and “animals” I was assured they had something more prosaic in the search parameters when they hit here.
Well there, since this is now the new here.
Third, I should note that they got together anyway every Saturday, the World News Center just gave them something fun to talk about. Well, something else in any case, they seem to be a pretty fun group over all.
After the guy who knew me got his beer he left and I was approached by a nice bartender wanting to know if I was going to pay his, considerable, tab. When I got done laughing I said “no.” The Hippoteers thought that was funny too so I stuck around.
While I did not make myself a regular with them, I was the proof of a bar bet and not an invitee after all, I did drop by a couple of times when I was in the neighborhood and was always warmly received.
Flash forward to last Friday, my computer took a massive dump and died right then and there. That meant that I had to go to the library on Saturday to get some digital time and turn some paperwork in. When I was done I realized I was near the Hippoteers and had nothing better to do. I wandered over and ordered a beer.
After a little while of watching the Military Channel (more addictive than you realize) one of them noticed I was without my ubiquitous machine. I explained what happened and how I was looking for a replacement. One of the, female, Hippoteers looked at me, made a perfect pouty face and said “Poor baby, would a blow job make it better?”
You know what? It did.
Shortly after that my phone rang. It was Edzilla, the tech God to the stars. Also the one person who keeps this site live. Anyway, he had an extra laptop. I told him that he was the icing on a perfect cake of a day and then filled him in on the basics. I also offered to let him say hello to the nice lady, since she seemed eager to meet him, but he demurred. To Ed, knowing about my world vicariously is fun; getting dragged into it scares the living bejeezus out of him.
I can understand that.
I feel the same way sometimes.
Anyway, here is the beauty of all this. I could walk into any court right now and swear upon oath that every word is true, since it is. I would also be happy knowing that, aside from the Hippoteers, Ed and me, no one will ever have a clue who these fun people are or where they hang out.
And that is as it should be.
Welcome to the new World News Center; home of all the nude news that’s fit to print.
Listen to Bill McCormick on WBIG AM 1280, every Friday morning around 9:10!