The Best Of PGP Smut In 2015

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We took great strides to not only bring you the most entertaining lifestyle content on the web, but also the most respectable long-form smut narratives. Lookout for more smut in 2016, because you need it.

That Time The Oil Market Crashed And I Did Cocaine With My Boss

Fuck. What’s the move here? Say no, and he’ll never trust me again. Say yes, and I’m bound to this man forever. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a “do some of this and go back to happy hour option,” so for the next two hours or so, I drank scotch and did cocaine with my boss. He wasn’t lying either. That shit had my entire face numb.

My Favorite Places To Do Blow In The Office

Why the fuck do we have iPads? No clue. But boy oh boy, those things are made for ingesting some flakes. Nothing makes me feel as rich as I am like chopping up a gator tail with my black card on an iPad that I just took the plastic covering off of.

What Your Recreational Drug Of Choice Says About You

My Buddy Fell In Love With A Stripper In Vegas And It Ended Poorly

One of my last memories from the strip club was Mike, about one hour into the night, going back to VIP. As I watched him make that sad walk to the ATM, stripper in tow, I knew he was done. He was Joe Pesci in Goodfellas on his way to get made, but much like Tommy, his story does not have a happy ending.

I Went Too Hard During Homecoming Weekend And I Can Never Go Back

We requested all the hits: Sake bombs, fried rice, steak, chicken, shrimp. We didn’t need menus. Order the classics, and let the good times roll. When our chef walked up with his cart full of magic, we gave him one of the more unnecessary ovations in hibachi history. His name was Don, allegedly. Whatever. We chanted that shit. He probably hated us, but he acted like he was into it. Every time he flipped an egg, we reacted with the enthusiasm of the white dudes riding the bench at UNC. “Cook that shit!”, we chanted as he made the onion volcano burn with the heat of a thousand fires. They politely asked us to leave.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

My Hinge Date Wet The Bed And I Didn’t Even Care

Sarah poured me a fat glass of cab sauv. The Smith’s “Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want” played quietly on the overpriced record player in the corner of the room. Clothing was getting removed. Light kissing. A move from the sectional to her bedroom. You get the idea. Fast forward to 7:30 the next morning. I’m still naked. And I’m soaking wet.

Caught The Red-eye Out Of Vegas And My Buddy Wet The Plane

“Sir,” she loudly whispered. “You had an accident.” By this point, The Liability was coming out of his slumber. I can only imagine how bad he smelled, as he was covered in urine with dry-mouth like an Addy’d up law student drinking Sugar-Free Red Bull. “What?” he aggressively whispered. “Oh no,” I thought. I’ve heard this tone before. This interaction had all the red flags associated with an in-flight emergency. Drunk guy, flight attendant, angry passenger, and urine. I had to intervene..

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