MPK44: will you update w/o pictures so matt can knwo
danwho247: what matt needs to know
danwho247: o mean about tonight
MPK44: how grat it was
danwho247: il update about it
danwho247: thebest night ever
danwho247: the best
MPK44: are you fuckign with me
danwho247: mike be serious
danwho247: we go back
danwho247: i dont lie much
danwho247: the BEST
MPK44: i know. except for bullitan fughint
MPK44: i've never seen this before
MPK44: this was straight out of a movie
danwho247: it was so professional and classy and then crazy and wild and continuaously erotic
danwho247: coouldt ask for a better disply
What was that all about? This fantastic night referenced above...sounds like a blast right?
The night in question is this past Saturday...which might have been the best night that I have experienced. And you're wondering less about why I lied about updating every other day, than about why didn't I let you in on the happenings of this past Saturday earlier...and I have very little in my excuse bag with which to throw your way.
I wasn't going to cover it, just because I can't offer any good pictures, and nothing I can tell you will be like being there. The sexcitement of this particular night has a strict guideline that prohibits webcast mainly for the protection of those involved. This had to be very clear when the night was attended by several webmaster extraordinaires.
What is all this suspense really, get to the meat, danwho. Well I'm talking about the second coming of the Bikini Oil Wrestling Extravaganza...BOWE 2 for short.
Now normally there are four things I avoid talking about on this stage: Religion, Politics, Fecal Matter and Sexual Encounters. My reasons include that I could go on for days about some of these topics, the topics are largely opinion based and mine will clash with yours, they disgust me or theres not much to talk about and my parents are reading this. This update is walking a fine line when it comes to one of these topics, but I'm going ahead anyway, so just be forewarned.
How intriguing, how dirty, how sexist...all of your concerns will be addressed and you will be told to shut up, I'm telling this story, and in story form. And you know how stories go? I talk and you listen. I'm so sorry, really I was just trying to be tough because I'm scared of you. Lets get to it.
Picture with me the scene...
You enter past two imposing bouncers working the door and into a crowded room filled with equally aroused and screaming men and women, most dressed to kill. In the midst of the crowd is a baby pool, slathered with baby oil. A spotlight hung from the ceiling shines down from the center of the pool. You recieve a printed program, made by Ryan, with detailed information on each girl, including likes and dislikes.
The room is full of amateur photographers wielding their digital cameras, but the main documenter of the proceedings is master camera man James, equipped with his top of the line video camera, taking digital video in full knowledge of the contestants, the only stipulation being that this video will not surface on the internet.
The music fades a few decibels and Mike, your MC for the evening, enters the pool. He asks Bill at the bracket on the far wall who's up next. The crowd rustles with anticipation. Denise decked out in referee gear, made from a cut off wife-beater and tiny black shorts, goes up the stairs into the bullpen to get the contestants.
Denise was responsible for recruiting almost all of the ladies involved, she was the pioneer behind the first few oil wrestling matches, and a special wild card match in the original BOWE. We were all impressed by her wrestling moves, and now we were blown away at her successful transition to fight promoter.
The bullpen area is filled with scantily clad ladies drinking beer, jungle juice and jello shots that were brought to them on a platter earlier by Bill who was wearing a single white glove like the rest of the residents of the arena at 1589...true style.
Within an instant MPK grabs the mic hanging from the ceiling and begins his introductions of this current bout's fighters. The smoke machine starts pumping and strobe lights go on, the music is turned up, the curtain is pulled back and a wild eyed good looking girl saunters into the pool in a robe.
The robe is thrown off as she enters the pool, exposing her more than ample figure concealed by very little in the way of a bikini. The crowd is feverish and sweating, from equal parts excitement and actual heat from the close quarters.
When both contestants are standing across from one another, toe to toe in the slippery ring, Brad, the official referee wearing a near similar outfit as his girlfriend Denise, drenches the girls in more oil. When they are both lubricated to the official standard requirements, Brad gives the girls one last clarification on a few of the more imporant rules, such as no hair pulling, which could have been forgotten after some drinking.
All of this takes no more than a few seconds, and the crowd is bursting. Brad signals to the crowd and the entire population of the arena shouts along with him, "1, 2, 3...Wrestle!"
Grab, slip, collapse, slide, roll, tussle, ride, smush, flip, stand, lock-up, tackle, armbar, headlock, pop out of bikini top...everyone gets an eyeful. Cameras flash. Towel boys wipe the oil out of the girls eyes, breasts are adjusted, signal is given and they go at it again.
Two bloody noses, a few pins, a few crowd noise votes determine a winner, and a lot of exposed flesh and nipples.
Girls lose, Girls win, anger, elation...the bracket fleshes out. A special wild-card bout. One fight breaks out between a certain male crowd member and a certain female contestant, more of a verbal war but still intense. A few "Assssshooooollllleee" chants by the crowd dissolve more than one potential unscheduled fight. Tensions are high, the arena is boiling over with heat as well as emotion. Halftime is announced..or as I like to call it Foreshadowing-Central.
Halftime is this...while most people go outside to wipe the sweat from their balls or whathaveyous...the hot-bitches covered with oil, inebriated, and not in a state of mind for calming down outside, perform an impromptu dance party with each other. 9 or so girls, knowing that they are the center of attention, doing their damnest to show off their sexuality.
After that lovely display had dissipated and people filtered back in to reposition themselves, the final few matches began. The competition was fierce and people were generally happy. The final title bout was such an evenly matched battle that when the smoke cleared and the oil was wiped away from the eyes of the contestants, a definite winner was not able to be decided and two co-champions were crowned.
And crowned they were, with tiaras and rose bouquets. Each girl who participated were also given roses. And you're thinking, well thats nice and all, but two winners...thats anticlimactic. And normally, you'd have a point, but not on this night, and I thought I told you to be quiet.
This is when some people actually left, silly silly people. This is actually when the real event began..totally unscheduled but not completely out of the blue, if you can recall the halftime festivities.
What proceeded to take place was nothing short of an orgy. Several of the more exhbitionisty girls got back to grinding on each other, in similar fashion to the halftime show. But as the music blared, the dancing turned into more humping and rubbing. Tops flew open, legs opened up shop spread eagle all devil-may-care. Caution thrown to the wind, the girls included painfully erotic gyrations and dry humping that was in more ways than one not dry at all.
I said on more than one occassion that it appeared to me that they were auditioning for spots in prominent beds for later on, that this display was more than just crazy drunken college fun but more of a ploy to show off their repective "talents" to some of the more VIP VIPs. That's not neccessarily true, but it's something I said.
With sensuality filling the air, Joey Stylez, the soon to be graduate, was dragged into the ring and the females, some with nipples flying about willy-nilly had nothing short of dirty oily group sex with Stylez through his clothes while the world looked on and camera flashes lit up the room. This whole exhibition lasted as long as, if not longer than, the actual wrestling matches had taken.
The girls fed off the cameras pointed at them, not showing an ounce of shame during this whole production. Beers were poured onto their eager bodies, asses were slapped, and the rose bouquets were crumpled up so that a steady stream of rose petals could be showered upon the spectacle.
The sheer craziness of the occassion doesn't translate well into words, at least not close to the actual event live and in person, but believe me it was intense. There are oodles of pictures and one extensive high quality video taken by James. After his fantastic coverage of the first BOWE, and its beyond professional editing job, there is no doubt that this video will be better than anything you can buy off late-night television, except you can't buy it. Don't ask for it, it's not being released.
Mike made sure to get the crowd involved in some cheers and hoorahs for the thing that made all this possible, that being College. Give credit where its due.
BOWE 2 surpassed expectations and took every small imperfection from the first extravaganza and made it so much better. We didn't think the boys at 1589 could out-do themselves and they proved us all wrong, and knocked it out the box. And I'm eternally grateful.
It's got suspense, action and a touch of the erotic.
-A touch of the erotic, Sam, how much is a touch? (the State)