This is almost a story of the boy who cried wolf but the outcome could have been a lot more dangerous. One particularly hot summer day, Tuna decided to get in and drive a trade-in we had acquired. The trade-in was one of those odd looking Chevrolet SSR convertible trucks, it was new and innovative at the time. Tuna had taken the car around the block and then parked it back in its original spot. I went out to see if I could take it for a spin and Tuna shooed me away. I figured he was on the phone or just having a bad morning so I went back inside.

After about five minutes, I noticed that Tuna was not back in the office so I asked one of the other guys where he was. Dave replied that he had no idea but he would go check on it. He came back a minute later laughing hysterically, saying that Tuna was in the car making faces and screaming. We all figured he was on the phone with his wife or his girlfriend or for that matter both at the same time. Dave and I decided to go out there and make faces back at Tuna. After a little while, we went back inside as it looked like we were only elevating the situation and making Tuna even more upset.

Another few minutes later, we hear a loud banging noise and then glass shattering. Not knowing what it was, and not taking any chances as shootings and explosions have become common at out dealership, we decided to hunker down and lay low. It was at that exact moment that our detail guy ran in and screamed “Tuna just broke the window and is on the concrete, I dont think he is breathing.” Automatically everyone inside assumes the worst: Tuna just got shot! No one wanted to go out there to verify if he did actually get shot for fear that they would be next. As I said earlier, Tuna and I had grown extremely close and without thinking I ran to his aid. When I got to his side I didn’t notice any blood only pools of sweat soaking his shirt. I could not understand what possibly could have happened, or why Tuna was not moving. I decided it was best not to move him, and by this point the police and ambulance had arrived and told me to step back. I don’t know exactly what they did but they got him to wake up instantly. Upon waking up, he yelled the words “Dave, Lizard, I am going to kill you” and then passed right back out.

Dave and I had zero idea what he meant, but being that Tuna was a large guy with a short fuse, I think Dave and I were happy he passed back out…looking back on that, it was probably an evil thought to have. The ambulance whisked Tuna away to the hospital before any other malicious thoughts could creep into our heads! At the hospital we learned that Tuna had suffered from heat stroke and dehydration but that he was okay. When we walked into the room where he was he was sleeping, I decided to wake him up in true LV Lizard fashion…TUNA, WAKE THE **** UP BITCH! and he woke up just like that! When we asked Tuna what happened, all he could say is that when he gets out of the hospital he was going to kick our asses! After five minutes of threats, we learned that Tuna had somehow locked himself in the car. When I initially thought that he shooed me away, he was actually motioning for me to unlock the door from the outside. When he was making faces at Dave, they were faces of helplessness and his motions to Dave were misconstrued as playful instead of disastrous. Tuna’s last hope was to kick the window out with his last ounce of strength, climb out, and hope someone came to his rescue. That was not the last time that Tuna almost died, but it was definitely the closest he had come.

In true LV Lizard fashion, I made fun of him daily for a whole month! That being said, about a month later I was sitting in a Testarossa after just taking it for a drive when Tuna and Dave walked up and held both doors shut with all their strength. I was locked in for what felt like forever, and was drenched in sweat. I felt like I was being cooked inside an oven. The fact that I am a Jew should entitle me to never have to feel that way, but lo and behold here I was in a Ferrari oven. I could not get out and I knew I couldn’t break the window, so here I was stuck. All of my teasing and taunting came right back in my face and I was finally let out of the car to Tuna saying “now you know how it feels” with a huge smile on his face.

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

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

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.

One of my first pimp clients (before I actually knew pimps existed outside of the movies) was PimpC. Now Pimp C wasn’t the first pimp I saw in my store, but he was the first one that was my client. Let me tell you something, the weed smell on PimpC was the strongest smell you have ever smelled in your life. It was a constant smell; as he treated weed like it was legal. He’d just walked up and down the street puffin on the strongest weed that god let grow! PimpC had lived in Cali but had a nice penthouse in South Beach so PimpC got his weed FedExed to him from Cali. I kid you not, one time he cracked open the lid on a  tightly packaged box while in my office and and the smell stunk up my office for over a week. The shit was that strong!

Anyway, here’s the story about my first night out with PIMPC!
PimpC invited me out to go to very well known, high-end, hard to get into club with him. I of course didn’t know how exactly a pimp rolled and was a massive idiot who brought my girlfriend (at the time) with! Well we pull up and valet at his condo and ride the elevator to the top. Before we even got to the top floor you could start smelling the weed! The second the elevator doors opened, the weed smell and smoke rushed in making both me and my girlfriend cough (yes, that much weed) There was no furniture in the whole condo except for one couch. There were three women sitting on the couch in literally NOTHING; I mean butt naked! I immediately cursed myself for bringing my girlfriend. Also the only drink that was available was Cristal, there were more Cristal bottles in this condo then any place I had ever seen. Running interference with my girl is a story in itself but I got her to calm down to a normal level (the second hand smoke probably helped).

So we make our way to the club, I am in a Ferrari 360 Spider and PimpC is in the new Rolls-Royce Phantom He just bought from me along with 4 women dressed in next to nothing. We parked right in front of the club; not on the side, not in the back, in front. PimpC took one of the biggest wads of cash I had ever seen anyone carry out of his pocket and pealed back a few 100’s to give to the valet. Now I have some amazing hook ups in town: I don’t wait in lines for more than the time it takes for the door guy or bouncer to see me, but this time was way different. This time we went around to the back of the club and walked right in as if it was PimpC’s own special entrance and there was a massive magnum bottle of goose waiting for us at a table. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more BALLER than that, 7 hot waitresses came out with Bottles of Cristal with Sparklers attached to the bottle…That’s right, 7 bottles of Cristal for 7 people!

I had my beautiful girlfriend (who I was feeding alcohol in hopes that she would pass out and I could have the 4 hookers to myself), I had my own bottle of Cristal, and I had 4 hookers! That’s the top of the world my friends! At this point PimpC gets handed his pimp cup (no, I’m not kidding he really had a pimp cup). He then takes out a long cigarette case that had diamonds and whatnot all over it. He opens the case and pulls out a pre-rolled blunt, sticks it in his mouth and lights it up right in the club! Immediately it reeks of weed but he doesn’t give a single shit. He takes out a few more blunts and lights them up and passes them around, LIKE ITS LEGAL!

I remember taking a few puffs and being instantly High. When I turned to PimpC he said:

“YOU Like Dat Weed, Dat Be Snoops Weed, I gets it from snoop and I had no doubt in my mind that he actually did get the weed from the weed master himself SNOOP DOGG.”

I kept feeding my girlfriend drinks hoping she would get drunk enough to pass out, but not too drunk so she would start getting sick. I wanted to increase my fun not ruin it!

Alas The Lizard was successful in getting his girl to pass out into a drunken stupor and I was left all alone (well me and a bottle of Cristal) in a room with some very nice ladies. I threw my girl into an empty room and took full advantage of the only piece of furniture in the whole multimillion dollar condo. The girls were already naked by the time the elevator doors opened (which is nice but I always enjoy the thrill of ripping clothes off). Lucky for me these girls were pros and had my clothes off and dick hard quicker then a bum runs up to the car window when you hold out a hundred dollar bill out of a Ferrari. I was trying to satisfy all four of the women while also trying not to move too quickly and have all the alcohol I drank come back up.

This wasn’t my first roust with multiple women, but it was my first time doing it while my girlfriend was passed out in the other room. That being said, I only had one thought in my mind and it wasn’t what if my girlfriend wakes up! This is something every man should remember when being with multiple women: line them up side by side face down asses up and go from one to the next to the next pounding away. It was quite fun, I felt like I was a composer for an erotic symphony. One girl would moan, one girl would groan, one girl would oh god, and then of course the other would Daddy (which I happen to love). I was making music going from one to the next. I kept trying to arrange it so that I got an OH from the “Oh god” girl and a Daddy from the daddy girl giving me the wonderful music of OH DADDY…but it never quite worked out right. Regardless, it was a brilliant performance that could have made Mozart proud…or at least jealous. I finished up with an even more ingenious plan, the sprinkler. Now I normally love making women get on their knees to get the ultimate cumshot in the face or tits. I really enjoy it, but the line of 4 girls is just to long to hit each and everyone of them with some Lizard Juice. I decided they should make a hooker circle around me and I could spin around giving them each a chance to suck my cock which I call JewC (there will be a story about why I call it that and the powers that it has later). Now as I’m just about to feel JewC explode I do a quick spin sprinkling each and every one of them with Jew C juice. It was an epic move which I now call the sprinkler

This was the first night of pimpin’ with a pimp and feeling like the ultimate rapper but it was most certainly not the last. There were many more nights with PimpC as well as other pimps who were equally as fun. To this day my girlfriend who is now an ex has absolutely no idea of how much fun I actually had on that night.