You must be thinking “Lizard are you a terrorist? Have you threatened to light your shoes on fire? Have you brought a box cutter on a plane?” NO, I have not done any of those things and I am most certainly not a terrorist (except maybe to women). I love America, in fact I don’t even think I am allowed to leave America do to some incidents in Canada and Mexico. I know that actually makes me seem even more like a terrorist, but let me clarify. I am not a terrorist, I am an alcoholic (which is what makes me so fun in my eyes). That being said, there are two things I hate in life with a passion: the dentist and flying! In order to fly, I need to have a massive amount of pills and an even greater amount of alcohol. If I am not blackout drunk before boarding the plane, there is no way I’m boarding it.

I know what you’re thinking: “Lizard you ride Lambos and Ferraris why not fly on a private jet?” Not a chance, private Jets are scarier smaller than regular planes and I have tried and failed miserably. In fact, my good friend is the president of a very large Fractional Jet ownership company and has invited me on two trips with him in some beautiful jets. The first trip ended with him saying “Don’t do that ever again, you’ll get me fired!” the second and last trip ended with “I can’t believe you did that again, you cant fly with us anymore!”

There was even a time where a client told me he would send a plane for me so we could go to the Bahamas all expenses paid and he sent a twin-engine propeller 310. I refused to go as soon as the plane touched down knowing that one of two things would happen: I would have to get so drunk that I would believe in my heart I could fly the plane and I would bring us down in a blaze of drunken glory OR I would get so drunk that mid-air I would wake up from my passed out state and freak out punching the pilot in the face, going down wondering how I could have been so stupid as to knock the pilot out. Either way the flight would have ended with me dieing and although I have walked out of some near death experiences unscathed, I don’t think the lizard would survive a plane crash.

Needless to say I tried my hardest to get to the perfect level of drunk to board the plane but it didn’t work. I got to a belligerent level and argued with the pilot, tossed my luggage down the runway and told him to fetch. I then called my client and yelled at him for trying to kill me and told him that I never wanted to speak to him again. Three days later my client came to Miami where I was at and bought a 47-foot Fountain Lighting Race boat from me and we blasted off to the Bahamas!

Now that I went off on a total tangent, let me get back to why I was banned from JetBlue. It was 2005 and I wasn’t even 21 yet. I was traveling to LA with two of my friends who were very large, tattooed, muscle bound, young, and wealthy clients of mine. The flight was spur of the moment, and the only flight we could get on was coach three in a row JetBlue. I was smashed between these guys who towered over me. One of the guys I was with who we will call Scott,  is a very wealthy young client of mine whose family started a very prominent business and also owns over 30 clubs and restaurants around the US. Scott loves Jack Daniels so we sat in the airport parking lot downing Jack and stuffing Xanax into our mouths. I did it to calm myself down for the flight at hand, Scott and Mike did it because they were fucking crazy.

Anyway I was finally drunk enough to try and board the flight and got a wonderful Idea, (as you know by now all my wonderful ideas when drunk end in disaster). Scott and Mike were both 6′4″, 300LBs of muscle with tattoos head to toe. I am 5′8″ and Skinny. I decided from the time we boarded the plane to start complaining that I had to sit in between these “giant assholes” and demand to be moved to first class. I yelled, I screamed, I may have even let out a few fake tears.

In my drunken state I felt that no one was listening to me, so in order to be heard I started throwing food. I then poured the mini liquor bottles all over myself, Scott, and Mike and yelled out “look these big mother fuckers are making me spill my drink!” I demanded more mini bottles and the flight attendant said that I was not allowed to have any more liquor. Telling the lizard he cant have alcohol is like poking the incredible hulk with a stick, you just shouldn’t do it.  It sent me into a drunk range during which I started a full-on food fight. Peanuts, Chips, and Pretzels were flying everywhere. It got to the point where Scott and Mike were not having fun anymore and they tried to tie me up with my seat belt. I decided that there wasn’t enough of a mess all around us, so I took all of the leftover food, tossed it at my feet, and started jumping up and down stomping it into bits and pieces

For those of you who have been following along, this post is a continuation of Stephanie and Motivational Juice

The next morning Nick called to explain what had happened. I scared the shit out of her with my gun and she liked me and “didn’t want to move too fast with me.” GREAT I get the party favor to fall in love so she wants to take it slow. Nick also informed me that he had a surprise coming from California for me, a porn star we will call Jersey. Now I was all set to turn the negative into a positive. I thought great, Stephanie loves me, I can at least score a three some out of this. The First moment I met Jersey we clicked. I picked her up from the airport with Stephanie riding shotgun. Had Stephanie not been there, I would have taken Jersey in the back seat of my car in the airport parking lot. From the moment Jersey got into the car I sensed tension with Stephanie, but I didn’t quite realize why. Later that night back at Nick’s house, I sensed that Stephanie did not like me talking to Jersey so I decided to split them up — Jersey on the patio and Stephanie on the couch. I split my time evenly between the two. I sat inside and played around with Stephanie and then I sat outside and played around with Jersey. I decided that Jersey was the one that I wanted and I was going in for the kill when she stopped me and said “I would love to **** you but Stephanie said I can’t and that she really likes you.” So now I’m sitting here with the only loyal porn star on the face of the earth who I am dieing to **** and fifteen feet from me is a porn star so in love that she wants to take it slow with a guy that doesn’t even like her! I decided to drink my problems away and come up with a new plan.

I don’t remember the plan, but what I do remember about that night is when Jersey slapped on Pink Boxing gloves and I got up to let her take a swing. Nick got out the HD cam and started rolling. I permitted her to take a swing thinking she would hit me in the arm and it would be a girly punch. Little did I know she straight out mike Tyson smacked me in the face. My lip immediately started to hemorrhage blood. I didn’t feel much though as alcohol tends to block pain. I am not to sure what happened after that, but I think I decided that after not only striking out with two porn stars but also being punch in the face by one, it was time to call it a night.

The next day we all decided to go bowling. Stephanie brought a date, no doubt to try and make me jealous which would never work…because I didn’t like her, and I straight up don’t care. I was the happiest man on earth, she had a date so I was free to have sex with Jersey. Bowling is a license to drink and act like a moron (my specialties) so that is just what I did. Stephanie’s date was not to happy with the way I was acting and Stephanie was pissed that I was hitting on Jersey. Additionally, Jersey was pissed because she still wasn’t allowed to **** me as Stephanie took her to the bathroom to let her know the rules were still in place. Meanwhile, Nick just sat and watched the saga unfold.

I decided this was going nowhere and there was a cute girl in very short white shorts was bowling next to us. Now when I see an ass I like, I make a little chomp noise with my teeth. When my motivational juice is flowing through my system, I cant help it; I like to bite ass regardless if I know the girl or not. I started to make my way over to introduce myself to the young lady and let her know that I would like to bite her ass. Nick knew instantly what I was about to do and tried to stop me. “She is with like six guys Lizard, don’t be a moron.” I don’t care, I want to bite some ass. Nick knew that there was no stopping me so he begged. The begging did not work and I proceeded to say very loudly CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP I WANT TO BITE SOME ASS.

The guys she was with knew I was talking about her, she knew I was talking about her, the porn stars we were with knew I was talking about her, but nobody did anything about it. We wrapped the night up surprisingly without incident and the next morning Jersey was on her way back to California. I hated Stephanie so much for not letting Jersey have sex with me that we never spoke again. Even today when I go to Nick’s house I still sense tension between us. I am deeply upset when I sit alone thinking I am going to die having been the only man (other than Nick— for good reason) that met Stephanie and did not have sex with her. It is a sad thought for The Lizard to say the least!

I have a flight to Cali and need to be at the airport by 5:30

I am flying to LA just for a friend’s birthday (that’s how The Lizard rolls) I always wanted to fly somewhere and then buy my clothes after I land. So what the fuck, why not do it in LA?

Here is how the Lizard Rolls:

• LIMITED LUIS VUITTON DUFFEL
• FERRARI F430
• SOME PERKS (Prescribed for my terrible back)
• ADDY (Prescribed for my terrible ADD)
• ICED OUT JACOB
• ICED OUT CHAIN
• ICED OUT CUSTOM SKULL

Lizards & Lizard Food

Lizards, Lizard Food, & Bling

We all know that The Lizard will NEVER be able to wake up at 5:30 AM, so I’m headed to the strip club, going to drink drink drink, and then catch my flight!

WISH ME LUCK!

P.S. I may fly a random stripper with me to LA…that sounds like a great drunk Lizard Idea!

I will keep y’all updated through TWITTER and of course LVLIZARD.COM

It started a little over a year and a half ago when I first met Nick. He invited me over to his house to meet with his roommate, a very well-known porn star in Florida that we will call Stephanie. Nick has also coined her the nickname “Party Favor”, as you can pass her around like she is a party favor. The girl LOVES sex. I don’t know a single man that has met her (besides Nick) that hasn’t had sex with her. Bear in mind that it’s not Nick’s fault that he hasn’t had sex with Stephanie; his girlfriend lives with him as well and is best friends with her. If you have ever met Nick’s girlfriend, you would know that having sex with her best friend would be a quick shortcut to getting your dick cut off and thrown in the woods like John Bobbit.

Stephanie really isn’t my type of girl. It is a well known fact that I have not hooked up with a girl without fake boobs unless I was too drunk to realize the boobs were real. Even then, the boobs would have to be large enough to justify my drunken brain thinking they were fake. That being said, Stephanie does not have fake boobs or large boobs, but when a girl has had that much “fun” you have to at least give it run once or twice. That in addition to the peer pressure aspect, everyone else was doing it so why the hell not right?

So I walk into Nick’s house and see two things immediately: Stephanie and beer. My brain leads the way until I get drunk and then The JewC takes over the thinking. So I went to partake in some motivational juice, also known as beer. I think she half expected me to do what ever other guy does in her presence: pounce on her, **** her brains out every which way, and then get dressed and leave.

I think she took the fact I wanted to have a few drinks first as a sign of respect when it was really just a sign of alcoholism. The way I put down beers sheer excellence. If they made drinking a sport I would be like Mario Lemieux from the penguins: the owner, the player, and the coach! Anyway, in the hour I sat and drank with Stephanie I got absolutely plastered.

I did not initially intend to get plastered, I just planned to go to the house, have sex with Stephanie, and then leave. It was Nick’s fault for having beer in the fridge! I had my CCW on me at the time and when I went in for the kill started putting the moves on Stephanie, she felt it and asked what it was. As usual I was a bit too drunk and took her question to mean that she was interested in the weapon. Not realizing that she was actually scared shitless of it I pulled it out, removed the mag, unchambered the round, and handed it to her. Apparently she was terrified while I was too drunk and horny to have noticed.

When I sensed things were going South, I decided to bail out of there. I called Nick and expressed my disappointment, although I am not sure if he could understand my slurs. I know that now, after a year and a half of knowing him, he can understand my slurs just fine, but back then I don’t think he realized what I was capable of. I went home in defeat having been the only man Stephanie had ever turned down in her entire life.

This story is continued here: Stephanie and Beer become Jersey and Bowling

I quickly came up with what I thought was a marvelous idea…Viagra! I had never taken one, nor had the need, but I was told if you take one (and don’t actually need it) you get a hard-on that lasts forever. In my stupid mind, banging 3 girls all night and never losing wood was a sweet idea. I ran and got the Viagra, downed a shot, and got ready to have a wonderful porn star 4-some all night with the help of my magic blue pill.

So here it goes one girl naked holding the video camera, another girl stripping down on the side of my bed, and another girl with her mouth on the JewC aka Jewish Cock. My dick was so sensitive due to the Viagra that I didn’t last more then 20 seconds before the girl shot up with a shocked look on her face and a mouth full of JewCJuice. “Did you just cum?” she mumbled, to which I replied yes I think I did! The other girl hadn’t even gotten naked yet and my night was over. They tried to wake JewC back up, but he wouldn’t wake, he was dead and my spirit was broken.

The girls left to go home and I was left on my couch with a cock that didn’t work. I was actually worried it would never work again! I ordered a pizza and sat to think of how stupid I am. About 30 minutes later, I got in the car and drove to the pizza shop. The second I walked into the shop, the Viagra hit me and I was hard as a rock! I had no idea what to do, so I went about my business and rushed home. My hard-on lasted two and a half hours!

I think that day god was laughing at me. To give me three girls and a dick that didn’t work and then curse me with no girls and a dick that worked better then it ever did was a horrible joke. I have since learned that some men have a very sensitive reaction to Viagra and cannot use it because of that. I wish I had known that beforehand!

So my buddy who happens to be one of my biggest clients as well as one of the largest rednecks I have ever met calls me last night wondering what I am doing. Now to understand this guy, he calls me ten times a day / night I call him the President of NASCAR, I have sold him countless cars I have even brokered a hooker to drive from Tampa to North Carolina for an over under bet. I scored 1,000 because I got her to do the deed for only 4,000! That being said my client told me to let him talk to all my girls last night five of them to be exact. Well the phone cut off on me and the girls were upset they did not get to talk to the president of NASCAR.

I hopped on the phone and texted my buddy Peter and asked him if he wanted to play a great joke on some women. Peter was up for the challenge, but we could not figure out who he could say he was. I thought Leo DiCaprio but Peter said Josh Hartnett. I figure he has a crush on Josh and that’s why he picked him but that’s neither here nor there. Anyway, I changed his name in my phone from Peter to Josh Hartnett and set me phone in-between the pack of women and I went outside. A minute later, the girls are yelling to me that my phone is ringing. I said who is it and one of the girls says “OMG Josh Hartnett, like THE josh Hartnett?” I yelled “Pick it up Pick it up!”

Peter was on his A Game! I guess he had googled Josh Hartnett and knew everything abut the dude because out of all the girls that talked to him, one of them was asking question upon question and Peter had all the right answers. Even so the girl was still 90% that who she was talking to was Josh and 10% that it was total bullshit. Even so, she cornered me in the bathroom and begged me for “Josh’s” number. Just so you know when I say cornered, I mean pinned me against the wall half choking me with my tie and ramming her tongue down my throat while some how mumbling the words “give me Josh’s number.”

When we went downstairs and the girl saw the Baby Blue AKA Smurf Blue AKA Silverlake Blue Bentley GTC, it was pretty much game over. I decided I needed to take the lie to the next level. We get to the club and I see a really good friend of mine we will call Scott. He is 40 and has already had two heart attacks, that’s how much the dude parties. He is covered from head to toe with tattoos, about 6′5″ and made of muscle. Literally MADE OF MONEY, spends it like it’s grown on trees! His father started a major corporation; they own a ton of nightclubs and bars on top of that. That being said, he decided to buy the bar ten bottles of Cristal, 4 magnum sized bottles of Goose and of course a bottle of Jack just for himself to chug around the club. It was GAME OVER. Scott loves me because I make sure to pack his tables with women and act just as out of control as him!

We had the tables packed and I forgot about my girl for the time being. She 100% did not forget about Josh or me. She had made her way through the crowd to talk to me. I had told Scott the Josh story and he played along asking her what she thought of Josh and telling her that we had all been friends for a while. She ate it all up! Now I have a great agreement with the bathroom attendant at this particular club. I have been tipping him well for years so he lets me bring in chicks on a regular basis and locks the door for me regardless of how many people are waiting in line. Tonight was no exception and I made her prove to me just how much she wanted “Josh’s” Number. BOY DID SHE PROVE IT! That being said, I went back to the VIP tables only to pull a straight lizard on Scott’s best friend’s brother’s bodyguard’s girlfriend. The dude almost killed me, so I decided to hightail it out of there and left my whole crew in the process.

I Bentley pimped it to one of the best strip clubs known to man solo but the Josh girl was blowing up my phone wondering where I was. She jumped up to the strip club for some more fun. Anyway the story is getting a little long so we will leave it at this: it’s 9:09AM now and I left the strip club at 7:30 am after being there for a total of four hours. The strip club was EPIC as usual but that’s a whole new post if I get around to it. Josh’s girl was a total freak at the club, even crazier at the strip club and I owe it all to my boy Peter! As of this day it is the biggest lie I have ever had a success with. I don’t know how much further I can go with my outlandish stories to women after this one!

THANKS PETER, I OWE YOU!

First I got Some Supplies From My Supply Closet...

Then I Took Out Some Tools...

Followed By A Few More Tools...

Going To Work With Tool #1

Making Some Final Adjustments With Tool #2

Inspecting My Handiwork

Don’t forget to comment and show me some love on Valentine’s Day!

The Finished Product

John tried to defend his choice of transmission by saying that it was “for his wife”. I then told him to go fuck himself because I wasn’t going to participate in his homo erotic fantasies of beating little Jews up, driving in tiptronic Porsches, and carrying around a man-bag. Instead, I told him that he should learn to drive stick like a real man. He hung up on me and fifteen minutes later he walked through the dealership doors, picked up my computer monitor, slammed it on the floor, and said next time it’s your face, now get me a fucking Porsche and walked out.

I called John an hour later and said we should make a compromise. If he wants to get a tiptronic and be a woman he should even it out by buying a turbo. He agreed and told me to find the car and find it fucking fast. I already have it John, I said, I drove it over to the dealership feeling like half a woman but then I realized I didn’t have a man bag so I am only a quarter woman. FUCK YOU JEW he yelled, bring it to me I’m at a strip club that we will call “Gold Platinum Titties”. So I drop the Porsche outside of Gold Platinum Titties because that’s what he told me to do, “put it in the parking lot and go back to your Jew dealership!” OKAY FAG, the car is in the parking lot, enjoy it.

Three hours later after the dealership was already closed, John called me demanding that I “open up the fucking doors or I will murder your children!” I don’t have children but that’s they way he is, FREEKING NUTS. A few minutes later, John comes flying into the garage, gets out of the car, and falls over PISS DRUNK with white powder covering the entire black leather interior. I’d like to take the high road and say that it was flour or powdered sugar, but unfortunately I know all to well that John doesn’t bake any cakes while driving his exotic cars.

There was a woman in his car absolutely butt naked with no clothes anywhere in site! When I asked where her clothes were, John gave me one of the oddest stories ever. Apparently John and this naked woman (a stripper from the club) were engaging in some “in-car activities”. Sex, drinking, coke…anyway John hit a few parked cars and then claims that the police were chasing him so he tossed the strippers clothes out the window to distract the police. He even claimed that her big ass high heels dented the shit out of a cop car. So now here I am sitting there with John, a naked Stripper, enough cocaine to make Escobar blush, and a brand new screwed up Porsche that was supposedly purchased as a gift for his wife. To make matters worse, John was now transferring all his stuff from the Porsche to a red Ferrari 360 Modena we had sitting there. He demanded the keys and I did as I was told, gave him the fucking keys. He took a stack of cash ($10,000) from his man-bag tossed it in my face and said “fix my fucking Porsche and change the license plates, keep the change little asshole.”

He rode off into the sunset with his naked friend and I came out unscathed with some cash in my pocket. I called him a few hours later and asked how his wife liked the Ferrari and the naked stripper. As usual he threatened to kill me, my family, my friends and my dog, but he invited me out to dinner over the weekend because I did such a good job selling him two cars in one day.

I knew something far more odd or life altering would happen at dinner, but I just didn’t quite know what it would be. That was the fun of John, you always knew something bad was going to happen but never knew exactly what…either way you can catch that story at the beginning of next week, because I’ve got a special story in store for Valentine’s Day.

That being said, I was de-virginized on the same day I got my car. Kind of Ironic since now at 23 I’m using Bentleys, Ferraris, and Lambos to get laid! Anyway, the story of me losing my virginity is yet another extremely funny and odd tale but I will save that for another day. This story pertains to road head! I was with this wonderful girl named Caroline. She was almost 5′ tall, had a nice set of tits, and an amazingly large ass. To this day she still has an amazing ass and an even better set of fake DD tits with a nipple ring to boot! She was basically my main girl for a while; she loved other girls so it worked out perfectly.

One day she asked if I had ever heard of road head; at that point in my life I had not heard of it, but I heard the word “head” and was very intrigued. When I was told what it entailed I decided that it was a theoretically perfect idea that I probably shouldn’t execute. At that point of my life I had already wrecked two cars that I personally owned and flipped a rented Range Rover end over end trying to go off-roading (yet another wonderful tale I will tell later). Given the circumstances, I figured it would be wise not to get behind the wheel with my cock out and Caroline between my legs trying to get every last ounce of her favorite man juice out of what we at the time called “BOB” (today we call it the JewC).

Depressed that I couldn’t partake in this new concept of Road Head, a light bulb went off in my head, something I recognize today as being a sign of a horrible Idea. I thought what if I could PRACTICE road head. I called Caroline and told her about my concept, she was happy to oblige. I grabbed two kitchen chairs and put them in front of my television. I had Caroline sit on the right chair with me on the left,  took my pants off, and ran to the PlayStation console. I turned it on, put in Gran Turismo 2 or 3 (I cant remember which, but it doesn’t really matter), and picked up the controller. As I was about to start my first race I said “Suck” and she did exactly that. Turn by turn, stretch by stretch, I was driving like a pro. I had to lift the remote a few times but I was getting the hang of it.

The road course got a little more intense just as Caroline began going up and down with her mouth and hand simultaneously. Oh wow that was great, what a rush. Just then, I felt an even greater rush and all at once I came, crashed into a wall, AND dropped the play station remote right on Caroline’s head causing the loudest and strangest sound on earth. It was a combination of complete carnage to the PlayStation car, and the dick muffled OUCH of Caroline as the remote smacked her on the back of her head.

That day I decided road head was not a good idea to try in real life and Caroline went home with an ice pack on her head. That wasn’t the first time she and I tried some crazy Ideas, and it definitely wasn’t the last time she got hurt in the process.

So in my talks with this wonderful girl (who we will call Rachel), I learned that she liked to be slapped in the face during sex. Not just regular light slaps, the kind of slaps that you wouldn’t even use if you were a pimp trying to collect money from your hoes. This girl liked it hard and hadn’t found a guy who could give it to her hard enough. That being said, I have never slapped in the face. Not that it wouldn’t be fun, I just would rather not hit a girl in the face and then have her turn around and claim that I beat her up later on down the road. I also honestly never thought of it. Well Rachel now had a new idea in my head, and as I have always said new ideas in my head are more often than not horrible ideas in which I think are absolutely genius until it’s too late.

After maybe a week or two of talking to Rachel, she told me she would be coming to Florida soon so I better practice her slapping fetish. After asking a few girls I could not find anyone to practice on and I was beginning to run out of options until one day a girl, who we will call Daphne, walked up to me in a club. She said you’re Rachel’s friend Lizard, aren’t you. I of course said yes I am and we got to chatting. A drink here, a dance there, and Daphne got all hot and bothered. She asked if I wanted to go back to her place for an after party she was throwing. I went but said to myself: “Self, don’t do anything with Daphne, Rachel is her friend and is way hotter, plus she will be your entrance into the slap a hoe tribe”

When I walked into Daphne’s apartment, I noticed that no one was inside except me and Daphne. She turned to me and said “Rachel sent me to see if you were any good” and literally grabbed the JewC out of my pants faster then a stripper pulls a $100 out of your hands when you dangle it during her pole dance. In the middle of going at it, Daphne tells me she likes being slapped too and I should slap her. I was so shocked by this that I think my first hit wouldn’t have killed a fly. She said slap me harder so I did as I was told. By about the 4th Slap I could not believe a girl was not only taking this sort of abuse, but that she actually liked it. No let me rephrase that, she loved it. At around the 5th slap, I realized how twisted this girl was. She was having sex and being slapped around by a stranger who she had only met because her friend in a different state that met me on MySpace told her to have sex with me. I don’t know what came over me or what porn movie I could have possibly got this idea from, but I picked Daphne up, tossed her on the ground, slapped her around a bit, and came right on her as she was on the ground begging me to slap her harder then I already was.

The next day I got a call from Rachel saying she was flying out that weekend to see me but I could continue with Daphne to hold me over. Two days later, Daphne and I picked up Rachel from the airport. We couldn’t even wait to get back to my house and ended up with a slap fest in the back seat of a Range Rover. That being said, Rachel ended up living at my house for a bit over a month. She liked women even more than I did, and got them to do things I wouldn’t even dream of asking. It was one of the best months of my life and to this day I still do not think the things that took place during that month were real. It had to have been a dream: from going into the dressing room at the strip club with Rachel and a few strippers while all the rest watched, to restaurant bathrooms with our cute waitress or even that one time in the vet’s waiting room when I was picking up my dog. Yes, Rachel was a wild one but all good things must come to an end and it did in fact come to an end.