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Ask me shit! About the author(s): MjH grew up in the suburbs of Encino, CA, born into a family of hilarious Jews. His mother, a witty New Yorker with a sharp tongue, set the bar pretty high in terms of what he looks for in a wife/Jewess.

Forever wearing glasses and on the hunt for Jewish cunt, our man wants you to know that he once schtupped a dame at DIVE! in Century City.

Copyright 2009-2011 BlackBerry Jew Squeeze

I’ll never forget the night we met.  You were a sophomore, and I was a little Freshy trying to look cool.  I was drunk.  I wanted to impress you.  I did a front hand-spring and cut open my entire knee. You took me up to your apartment and sat me on the toilet. With the motherly instinct of Princess Di you fixed me right up. For good.  And to think the whole time I was hittin’ it I felt like Jay-Z cuz all the other kidz was like “she’s a year older!”  “Gotta tha hottest bitch in the game - wearin’ my chain.”

I’ll never forget the night we met.  You were a sophomore, and I was a little Freshy trying to look cool.  I was drunk.  I wanted to impress you.  I did a front hand-spring and cut open my entire knee.

You took me up to your apartment and sat me on the toilet. With the motherly instinct of Princess Di you fixed me right up.

For good. 

And to think the whole time I was hittin’ it I felt like Jay-Z cuz all the other kidz was like “she’s a year older!” 

“Gotta tha hottest bitch in the game - wearin’ my chain.”


August 7
schtupped
Nice gams, ya cunt! Next stop: schtupped you rotten central. 

Nice gams, ya cunt!

Next stop: schtupped you rotten central. 


August 12
schtupped
Actions speak louder than words in most cases. This is one of those cases. 

Actions speak louder than words in most cases.

This is one of those cases. 


August 15
schtupped
You - gorgeous.   Your laugh - contagious.   Your eyes — breathtaking.   Your touch - incendiary. Your body - a wonderland (thanks, Jon Mayer) Your legs - immaculate. Your tush - so taught. Your feet - adorbziez. I have dreams of running into you and falling back in love, and even though it was intense and shitty for most of it, I still only remember the good stuff.   Like schtuppin’ on the couch after grocery shopping.

You - gorgeous.  

Your laugh - contagious.  

Your eyes — breathtaking.  

Your touch - incendiary.

Your body - a wonderland (thanks, Jon Mayer)

Your legs - immaculate.

Your tush - so taught.

Your feet - adorbziez.

I have dreams of running into you and falling back in love, and even though it was intense and shitty for most of it, I still only remember the good stuff.  

Like schtuppin’ on the couch after grocery shopping.


+
schtupped
Q: How do you go from my girlfriend to this in oh say, three years? A: I can answer that in 3.5 grams (or an eight-ball if you want to be all Keith Richards about it).

Q: How do you go from my girlfriend to this in oh say, three years?

A: I can answer that in 3.5 grams (or an eight-ball if you want to be all Keith Richards about it).


August 18
schtupped
Brother/Brother take-down for the count schtup.

Brother/Brother take-down for the count schtup.



August 25
schtupped

Real Talk: - Some Homo - 

I don’t know about you kids out on the East Coast, but out here in the West, when we get too old for our parents to ship us off to Maine (so that the parentals can schtup and smoke weed all day without having the kiddies around), they send us on a Teen Tour.  Say it with me now, TEEN TOUR.

A Teen Tour consists of a cross-country trek by bus in which 40 or something Proactiv cleansing, Blink 182, NOFX, Backstreet Boys listening 16-year olds band together to see the national monuments and campgrounds in one fell swoop.  For some, it can be hell.  Others, a necessary evil to adulthood — on the road with no parents!  

For me, it was the first time I had a girl put her mouth on my penis in a moving vehicle (albeit a bus).  Ain’t life grand?  But “a grand don’t come fo’ free” - Mike Skinner. On day one of the Teen Tour I made a serious connection with Kub (pictured above).  We were fast friends from Day 1.  Only one problem: she had a dusche-bag boyfriend back in Canton, Mass.  It took me all the way from NYC (where the tour began) to NEVADA to get her to start hooking-up/getting naked/touching my wang on the reggs. I remember the first time she made out with me — we were in Las Vegas, at a midnight showing of SCARY MOVIE.  If that doesn’t spell class I don’t know what does.

As the trip came to a head, we ended up in the San Francisco Hyatt where all of us “campers” danced and said their final goodbyes.  I wanted to head-off in style: with a beej on the bathroom floor, much like a popular Shaggy song of the time.  

Let me tell you something: For the 44 Days of the U.S. Explorer, homegirl was my everything.  My best friend, my lover, my sleeping on the bus companion, and well, one of my first loves.  I’ll never forget her standing in the airport in San Fran, crying as I had to wave goodbye, as she was heading back to Mass. and I to Los Angeles (a mere 15 minutes away). I also remember getting on the plane, watching us take off, and sobbing like a little fucking bitch to myself, wiping my snot in my Method-Man t-shirt. (Can you blame me? The BLACKOUT album had recently dropped).  

Now, who is that dapper gentleman in the sailing picture next to Lauren, you might ask?  That is WARREN — my go-to dog/counselor on the Teen Tour.  If it weren’t for him, I would’ve never gotten [REDACTED at the request of the girl in question], schtupped at the UofM when we stopped there for four days.  [Writer’s Note: Some girl cried on the way to UMich because she had to shit so bad but didn’t wanna go on the bus].  He facilitated all my hook-ups by turning the other cheek.  Warren and I still talk from time to time, and I even wear his old SLEEMAN’S LIQUOR t-shirt as an homage to the great Canadian counselor.  Because they don’t have A&F in Canada (Warren’s home town) he traded me his ID and t-shirts for my A&F shirt (yeah, I was a dork once).  For years I would buy cigarettes, porn, and alcohol as Warren Smulowitz until I turned 21.  

I ran into her in a NYC bar when I was a Junior in college.  She was with her boyfriend. In the dimly lit, crowded, sweaty, drunken state of mind that I was in — I will be honest, she wasn’t as cute, and it wasn’t as loving as it was when she was my explorer-lover for life.  For now, I have a special place reserved for her in my heart — the same space I reserve for Reeses Pieces and the time I got laid in a Doctor’s Office.  

Homegirl, if you are out there — you are a gem.  But go easy on the bronzer. 

Finally - since when did you start fucking Djimon Hansou?


September 10
schtupped teen tours
She’s great isn’t she?  I know. I think what I liked most about her was that she devotes her entire life to helping little children learn to read and write.   And her slammin’ bod.

She’s great isn’t she? 

I know.

I think what I liked most about her was that she devotes her entire life to helping little children learn to read and write.  

And her slammin’ bod.


September 11
schtupped
Schtupped. Doctor’s Office.  Just thinking about it is giving kind of giving me the chilly-willies.   Miss Masseuse here is the latest and greatest in a Gelson’s deli-counter (but I want chicken tenders) sized line of babes.  I kid. She’s the one and only patron at the all you can eat diner on 39th and Park that is my crotch.  She’s very helpful, quite cute, and giggles at the dumbest thing that I say. I kind of love her for it. We met randomly one evening at some hotsy-totsy hotel bar. I came out to get my car and she immediately fell in love with me.  Can ya’ blame her? We started rappin’ and vibing, and than she drops the M bomb! She’s a massage therapist. Holy shit! Score! The Mighty Ducks have beat the Hawks! I had to have her.  Masseuse Babe has a wonderful outlook on life — she’s always happy, calling me cute names, sending me sexy texts, and her body is fucking ridiculous. Like 3.5 hours a day in the gym ridiculous.  So ridiculous in fact, that I wanna make pancakes on her tummy and slurp Aunt Jemima out of her belly button. You are oh so kissable, clean, soft, and the full package. Hence why I love nothing more than to filet you. Medium. Rare.

Schtupped. Doctor’s Office.  Just thinking about it is giving kind of giving me the chilly-willies.  

Miss Masseuse here is the latest and greatest in a Gelson’s deli-counter (but I want chicken tenders) sized line of babes.  I kid. She’s the one and only patron at the all you can eat diner on 39th and Park that is my crotch.  She’s very helpful, quite cute, and giggles at the dumbest thing that I say. I kind of love her for it.

We met randomly one evening at some hotsy-totsy hotel bar. I came out to get my car and she immediately fell in love with me.  Can ya’ blame her? We started rappin’ and vibing, and than she drops the M bomb! She’s a massage therapist. Holy shit! Score! The Mighty Ducks have beat the Hawks! I had to have her. 

Masseuse Babe has a wonderful outlook on life — she’s always happy, calling me cute names, sending me sexy texts, and her body is fucking ridiculous. Like 3.5 hours a day in the gym ridiculous.  So ridiculous in fact, that I wanna make pancakes on her tummy and slurp Aunt Jemima out of her belly button.

You are oh so kissable, clean, soft, and the full package. Hence why I love nothing more than to filet you. Medium. Rare.


September 13
schtupped

I saw one of my Ex-Schtups this weekend…

And by golly, was homegirl wearing WAY TOO MUCH fake tan.  She looked like Kramer on Seinfeld when he burnt himself in the tanning-bed.

She looked how Frida Pinto from SLUMDOG would look if I hung out with her while on Peyote.

She looked like the human incarnation of orange juice - Tropicana

She looked like Mars

She looked like a giant talking Powerpoint logo

I thought Burnt Sienna was just a color

Damn bitch, up your game.

Don’t think we ever would’ve schtupped if I knew you during your Beaker from Sesame Street phase.

There ain’t nothing mystic about your tan, bitch.


October 5
girls schtupped