What Happens On Staff Retreat, Stays...On Everyone's Mind So We Can Burn The Shit Out Of You

The uncrinkling of five dollar bills from our warm pockets was accompanied by the insurmountable amount of bets of who would hook up with whom at our Labor Day staff retreat. While the restaurant was happy to pitch in $750 toward the cause of supporting alcoholism in thirsty staff members, we spent it all far too soon; not being able to buy the top shelf prostitutes we were hoping for. But even with that slight set back, how could we not enjoy ourselves in a vacation mansion in a place called Tutukaka. The following is what we believe to be photographic evidence of the events that many of us fail to remember.

Foreshadowing how the trip is gonna play out

They're stoked...cause they all just got Eiffel Towered 

 When we found out cars don't run on imagination

 Stairway to heaven

 First living room-and sexual experience

 Second living room- and sloppy seconds

 Master bathroom- and sex cave 

 Master bedroom- and scene from 50 Shades of Grey

 Guest room- had sex here...with lefty (the awkward uncoordinated numb rough hand) 

 Guest room- had numerous sexes here

 Spirits collection before the roofies were applied

3 Girls, 1 Chinese guy and....no cups

Rich white family with their Asian tutor and kitchen hand

Blood of Christ  

Expressionism 

Inconveniently cumming is a worrisome manner

 Genie urine from the bottle we stole off of Christina Aguilera

 Getting Pregnant 

Getting Fired 

Impersonating Bane

 Waking up not inside the house

 A safari of homeless encounters

Dutch ovening 

Unfortunately being French 

 Sleepy hand jobs

Pink eye 

 Ecstatic about cutting oven mitts

 ...I mean batt shit crazy and strongly bipolar

 Got the most action all night

 ...From here primarily

Gave birth 

Got positively violated  

Got negatively violated

Cooked the French guy 

Pleasantly ate the French guy

Progressively became... 

 ...retarded gangstas

Watched the sun go down nice and slow on the water

...Watched an Asian hitch hiker do the same

Sicky Gnar Gnar Review Brah

The Glass Goose restaurant prides itself on serving traditional New Zealand cuisine with hints of Asian flare

Apparently I'm ...the flare

Normal Sized People: An Unexpected Journey

Dark ovals dragged heavily below my eyes as if the burden was far too much for my lashes to carry such luggage. An abundance of long work shifts crippled my immune system and left me shattered. As I sat at the square wooden table, I was met by the rest of the fellowship. A Kiwi; a rare breed to come across in New Zealand. Pale, yet tall, and dimples that could house a small Ethiopian family. The other is a beast of a man. Hairy, questionably Jewish, yet the kindest soul any Girl Scout would ever encounter. Together we sipped on earthy toned wines, grease ridden personal pan pizzas, and toxic Scrumpy cider.

It is here that we took it upon ourselves to save Central Earth by providing our fertile sperm to women scattered across the seven continents. An arduous task, yet one that must be done for the fate of all interracial humanity relied upon us. Our demographic-anyone. Our mission-anyone. Were we desperate?-yes. And so with the rise of a new day we began our quest. 3.5 minutes later we were side tracked and exhausted. Finding the perfect location to release our pheromones, we puffed out our chest, and commenced our mating rituals.

Needless to say, we accidentally attracted each other...

After long nights of what Brokeback Mountain may be able to describe better than I, we continued on our journey seeking female companions to implant. It was by no means an easy voyage. We were malnourished and came across creatures that would send us to the depths of hell with one wrong move. Beasts with massive teeth that would cut even the coldest of winters. Wings that sent hurricanes to the far ends of the earth. And the eyes. The eyes were more heart wrenching than when your parents state, "I'm not mad at you, I'm just...I'm just really disappointed in you."

But it is with great valiance and determination that we prevailed and conquered such beasts. As swordsmen, masters of archery and..guns, we did what we had to to slay these unforgiving creatures.

And so our journey came to an end, still the same amount of pregnant women in Central Earth. But we do not measure our success on our victories...because that would obviously mean we failed. We measure our success on the moments we share, the friends that we acquire along the way, and the number of sausages we can fit in our mouth without choking.

How You Doinnnn...

A sensual stare and a crawling grin meet my gaze from across the bar. Their fluttering eyelashes and a flick of the hair gives me the impression that they're interested. I firmly tap the cool stainless steel boston shaker onto the glass. Pick it up over my right shoulder and begin to forcefully shake it back and forth as its contents mix with the frigid ice. While I jostle the containers, a warm body cautiously approaches as if preying on me from afar. Nervous, I clinch my jaw in anticipation of whats about to come next. They lightly place their finger tips on the unvarnished counter as they begin to gently stroke it. Pursed moist lips gradually open as they say

"Hi. I'm...

                     Bruce"

FAAAHHHHHHKKKKK, I exhaustedly yell in my head, while smiling and introducing myself and slowly dying inside. It has now become a weekly ritual that gay men chat me up. Don't get me wrong, I'm still very flattered, but is it simply too much to ask for a single Eva Mendez to walk in and find me sexually desirable for the rest of her life???? Ohhhh, Bryce, Ryan, Chris, Josh, and Albert, I do appreciate your desire, although one in the bum is one too many. Perhaps my slightly feminine tendencies have carried over to New Zealand as back home I would get the occasional cat call as well, "Ohhh Heyyyy Cupcake." It really does astound me that people question my sexuality. I actually think its quite obvious...

What? Can't a motha fucka just treat himself?

I Want You To Blog All Over Me

The wooden planks creaked and the stiff air was parted by the hefty dough-balls known as bloggers wandering in. Unnecessarily large cameras were slung around their necks, and their demeanor conveyed that being in a social setting was a rare occasion outside of their cyber life. A sponsored event led these socially inept bloggers to get a feel for The Glass Goose by putting on a cocktail demonstration. Black lenses were my sole audience as their eyes were transfixed through the viewfinder and their fingers were busy Snap Chatting, Instagraming, and mammogramming. The restaurant's suave ambiance came to a halt as the shutters of the cameras roared through the dining room and dribble slowly emerged from their mouths at the smell of food. The potted plants would have grown into "Jumanji" status if they were fed with selfies and peace signs. Below you'll find their reviews.

Blog #1

Blog #2

Blog #3

Feeling more popular than a Korean pop star, I impregnated zero out of all zero of the attractive bloggers. Speaking of which, who even reads blogs????? 

LOSEERRRRRSSSS