Search This Blog


View My Stats

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

The Secret Handshake

I'd like to say I've been holding this story back but actually I had just forgotten about it until it was brought up a few weeks ago when I was hanging out with some friends of mine.  Perhaps it was just a memory I had suppressed.  I just recently shared on here an embarrassing story about my friend the Korean Cowboy so it is only fair that I provide, yet another, awkward moment from my past.  After all, Beasthammer is only human. 

When I was fresh out of college I entered a management training program with a small local bank and one of my first branches that I managed was out in the middle of nowhere in town abandoned by society.  I could honestly go almost an entire day without seeing a customer walk into the bank.  So, I found other ways to pass the time... and since this was a bank with strict regulations that meant either email or Microsoft Paint (this is actually where I began honing my Paint skills).  Well on this particular day I was just sitting at my desk when one of my friends sent me an email that was definitely in poor taste and while I can't recollect the topic of the forwarded email I am most certain it contained female nudity.

It was about this time that I heard the front door of the bank open and saw an older gentleman walk in, approach one of the tellers and ask if he could speak with the manager.  He was a long time customer of the bank and apparently just wanted to introduce himself to the new manager.  Before I could react he walks into my office introducing himself as he is closed in on my desk.  I instinctively rise from my chair to shake hands when I realize that the before mentioned email had given me a semi-erection and of course in dress pants with your shirt tucked in there is no hiding even the smallest of meat buildup.   It is at this moment that I do one of the most awkward and regrettable things I've ever done in my life... I limply cover my groin with my right hand and extend an upside down left hand to meet his outstretched right hand.  WHAT?!  How in the name of God did I get my hands confused?  If anything it directed more of his attention to my boner.  I might as well of just rested  it up on the desk.  From what I remember he didn't hang around to chit chat much longer after our handshake.  I just hope he thought that maybe I was paralyzed on the right side of my body.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Unanswered Questions

It has become clear that my previous post on the Korean Cowboy was both disturbing and intriguing yet it needed to be shared with the world.  I have gotten so many questions about this post in the last couple of days like: is it true, why did he do this on his own porch, what did he use to wipe with, did he wipe at all, were people watching and cheering, did he pull his pants up when finished or did he just do the prisoner shuffle through the house...

This story has just left too many loose ends (no pun intended) and I can only think of one way to tie them up...


I would like to invite Mr. Cowboy to participate in a filmed interview where we return to the scene of the crime and gain insight from the man himself as to what really took place that night.  This should be both beneficial to KC as well as the fact checking department here at Beasthammer, LLC.  Friends if you would like to see this video posted please take a second to vote on the left side of this page.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Front Porch Chillin'

Just when I thought I had heard of everything and all the embarrassing stories have dried up, one of my friends totally bails me out by doing something completely irresponsible.  This story is from about a week ago involving my friend... let's refer to him as "The Korean Cowboy," or KC from now on in an somewhat weak ass attempt to protect his identity.

For KC this was just another typical night out on the town getting absolutely annihilated to the point where you don't know whether to tie him to a tree so he can't hurt himself or pretend you're calling him a cab but summon the local police instead.   I guess on this night neither of those two options were available and somehow he made it back to his house.  While standing on the front porch about to put his key into the lock he suddenly is struck with a great idea... things are about to get epic.  Instead of letting himself into his house he decides to walk over to the corner of the porch, pull his pants down around his ankles and begins to serve the wood planks a delicious "Carolina Hot Plate."  He finishes his business, pulls up his pants and goes inside to call it a night.  No harm no foul right?

Not exactly.  He wakes up the next morning and walks out the front door to get the newspaper, feel the sunshine or whatever it is drunk guys do the next morning only to find that someone had spilled a giant bowl of chocolate pudding on his front porch.  Puzzled, KC investigates the crime scene further and that's when he see's it... the culprit has left a piece of evidence immersed in the pool of pudding... it was a wallet! Case closed, Book 'em Dano! But wait, this wallet looks familiar.... KC carefully opens the soiled wallet and is hit hard by the truth... it was HIS wallet, it must have fallen out of his jeans when he pulled them down and it was in fact, covered in his own $hit.  Keep the stories coming Mr. Cowboy!

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Coffee Table Book

Folks, I'm in the middle of crafting one of the greatest pieces of American literature since The Great Gatsby.  This book will no doubt be given out as wedding and housewarming gifts for many years to come.  This is the front and back cover, stay tuned for an upcoming release date and book signing venues.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Donations Welcome

Yesterday my friend sent me the following email.  He asked that I keep his name anonymous but gave me the green light to share with all of you.  
Dear Mr. Hammer,

Many of my friends know that my wife and I are desperately trying to conceive a lil mini me.  We started out making the kind of feverish love that you would see on animal planet.  But after a few months of not delivering the package to it's final destination, our resolve has begun to dissipate to the point that just the other day my wife uttered the words to me that I had been dreading. . . (Read this in slow mo) "seeeeeemeeeeeen sammmmmpllllllleeeee. . .". Instant puke.  The thought of delivering my boys into a cup at a dr's office made my weiner instantly draw back up into my tummy. . . I know what you're thinking, further into my tummy.

Anyway, to get to the real point here.  I find out that I get to go through with this process at home and I'm instantly relieved.  So the morning arrives and I'm stoked because I get to "hand"le my business.  I'll skip those details only to say that who knew how exciting dropping a load in a cup could be?

So, I'm driving to the dr's office with my man yogurt in a cup, sitting on the cup as gently and warmly as a mother hen protecting her egg.  I get to the front desk and this woman that could only be described as viking-ish, I mean long braided pony tail and built like a f-ing line backer with child in tow bursts through the front desk line to proclaim, "I have to drop off. . . Er- something in a hurry. . .". The lady directs her to have a seat in the waiting area and they will be with her shortly.  Meanwhile, I'm standing there looking like a fool with my spooge in a cup.  So viking woman proceeds to pace in front of the lab door back and forth like a tiger at the circus.  When the nurse pops out whose name does she call?  You guessed it, yours truly.  I put down my parenting magazine and make my way to the door only to be boxed out by this white shaquille o'neal look a like who the nurse awkwardly ushers in the door in front of me.  Shaq then proceeds to announce that, she "has a sample for the lab. . .it's her husband. . . He has a sample. . . Uhhhh".  The nurse rolls her eyes and you could read her mind as she and I were probably thinking the same thing, "wtf, who is so lame as to have their wife drop off their load for a semen analysis, instead of just going themselves. . . You just turned something that's already embarassing into something Lame and embarassing.

The nurse says, "hold on".  Looks at me and says I'll take that now.  I could have thought of a million jokes about taking my load, but I kept it classy.  I handed her the cup awkwardly but confidently and simply uttered I'm sorry and out the door I went!  Mr. Hammer I knew you would enjoy this story.  Have a great gay. . . I mean day!