POOL SANTA

May 30, 2018 [WILDLY KRAZY]—It was April of 2003—a month after the Iraq invasion—when we met "Santa". I was eighteen years of age at the time, and a junior in high school when we, the 'Four Horsemen', threw one of the biggest parties in our city, with the help of "Santa".

At that time, I was one of KRAZED's best friends, who was also one of the 'Four Horsemen'; hence the reason I am writing this article.

Titus, the Marine who wrote "SUGAR BABIES: FUCKING FOR MONEY", did an interview with KRAZED last week, which should release at the end of this week. Anyways, in that interview, you will learn the meaning behind the 'Four Horsemen'.

If you personally know KRAZED, you are probably eager to read the upcoming article, just to reminisce in the good times we had back then. Of course, all names and identities are changed and secured within the article, so we promise that your children will not find your naughty past on WILDLY KRAZY. If they do find out, just tell them it was "KRAZED's fault," because it usually is…

If you want to laugh your ass off, make sure you read it. Rude, crude, dangerous, and perverted…that should be the title of KRAZED's life.

Anyways, back then, we had people coming from surrounding cities just to party with us, because we threw the wildest and naughtiest parties around—no joke. Kansas City, Missouri, Kansas City, Kansas, Saint Joseph, DeKalb, Savannah, King City—young adults, high school and college students came miles just to party at one of our parties. Every weekend—every Friday and Saturday—we threw a party during our high school days. This particular party, however, is one that I will remember forever…at-least part of it, anyways.

At our parties, there were only two rules—no fighting, and weed and liquor were the only drugs allowed. If you decided to start shit, our "bouncers" would beat your ass and kick you out. After all, two of the 'Four Horsemen' would grow up to become Marines, while the other two went into law enforcement. Scary shit, right?

We brought blacks, whites, Hispanics—various races, cultures, cliques and gangs under one roof, together, without a major incident. In fact, KRAZED always informed people that his parties were the "Peace Parties"—where everything goes, except violence and hatred.

"Fuck, drink and smoke where ever you want, whatever you want, whenever you want—just leave the fighting and drama on the streets," KRAZED told people as they walked into the door of our parties.

We always had four to six "bouncers" stationed at the front door, at all times. They regulated shit, and refused entry to past offenders—those who broke the fight and drug rules to our parties in the past.

Under our roof, within our parties, it was "Live N' Laugh—have fun, live life—be yourself—and don't worry about the opinion of others." If you noticed, it is WILDLY KRAZY's motto, at the bottom of the website; thus, we live it every day.

On this particular summer night, we threw the party at my house, while my parents were out of state on vacation. Unbeknownst to my parents, I stayed behind so we could throw this party.

My little sister had an inflatable pool in the backyard that we filled with ice, beer, and liquor, in which we sold to partiers for $1 per bottle, and $2 per shot of liquor. We filled the pool with one-hundred-forty-four Bud Light 12oz bottles, along with seven bottles of Smirnoff Vodka, three bottles of Jägermeister, and five bottles of Wild Turkey.

We had six "bouncers" guarding the pool at all times, while two of the 'Four Horsemen' sold the drinks. We paid the "bouncers" with "all you could drink".

It was about 9pm when everyone showed up. We had music inside and outside; plus, a wet tee shirt contest at about 10:30pm that night. By 11:30pm, a few dozen girls were walking around topless, and drunk off their asses.

Inside, on the front room floor, this chick was riding one guy, while sucking another guy, as dozens stood around, watching and cheering, passing around a community joint.

In my kitchen, dozens shared community joints, while upstairs, on my bedroom and office room floors, a fuck and blowjob fest commenced. I counted thirteen people upstairs fucking and sucking, while one guy that I did not know jerked his meat in the corner of the room, drunk and high as fuck, as he observed the sex-action.

On the "fuck couch", one chick knelt on the floor, eating her friend's pussy as her friend sat on the couch, sucking off one of my buddies. Another chick was bent over the couch, shared by two other high school buddies. I have no idea who the chick was, except she was a "college chick that went to Missouri Western State University."

All in all, the rooms smelt like hot, musty pussy and ass, with the occasional smell of weed.

As I walked down stairs, I hear one of our "bouncers" scream, "Santa is here!"

"Santa? Who the fuck is Santa," I thought to myself, as I ran down stairs to check out the situation.

I run down stairs to see a fat, middle age man—about thirty-eight years of age—wearing a red Santa hat, and carrying two cases of Busch Light. Two young hotties stood behind him, both wearing matching school girl outfits—short, red plaid skirts, and white button up shirts, with white, knee high socks.

"Is this the party of the "Four Horsemen," Santa asked.

"Who's asking," I responded.

"I'm Santa, and these are my elves," as he pointed to the two hotties behind him.

"Why the fuck is Santa and his elves at one of our parties," I asked with a smirk.

"Steven [KRAZED] invited me—where is that dick head at, anyways," Santa asked.

"He didn't mention anything about Santa coming," I said.

"Go find him—he will tell you," Santa said, looking around the house, trying to spot KRAZED among the four dozen people in the front room.

At this point in the party, about 12:15am, the house was packed like sardines—nut to ass. If you wanted to walk through the house, you had to rub up against drunk people, which was fine with me, because half of the chicks at the party were either naked or topless.

"Stay right here, Santa."

I forced and shoved my way through a human maze until I got outside in the backyard to an even larger party. KRAZED sat near the pool on a patio chair with two, topless chicks sitting on both knees. There, the fucker had his right hand on the right breast of the right topless chick, on his right knee, and his left hand on the left breast of the left topless chick on his left knee. Confused, yet?

I swear to God almighty—upon the Holy Bible—the chicks on his knees were twins that he knew from a different high school, named Kari and Kali. They were tall and slender, and fine as fuck, with an athletic build, brunette hair, and brown eyes.

They both played volleyball and basketball for a rival high school, but KRAZED never gave a fuck about rivalries, even though he played both football and basketball for our high school. KRAZED had zero rivalries if they were down to party and have fun. To KRAZED, everyone was a potential friend—or a Krazee, as he called him or her—until you tried to disrespect him. If you disrespected KRAZED, he was ready to kick your teeth in, no matter who the fuck you were.

"Look, Fucker—I found twins!" KRAZED screamed at me, as he shook both breasts, with both hands.

"Ya, that's nice—who the fuck is Santa?" I asked.

"Santa is here?!" KRAZED excitedly asked, as he pushed the twins off his lap.

"Sorry, loves—I'll be right back," KRAZED said to the twins, as he ran for the house.

"Are the girls here?!" KRAZED asked, as he ran for the house.

"The prostitute looking girls?"

"They're strippers, fool! Santa is a Krazee; he and I pitched in and bought those chicks for the night," KRAZED said, laughing, as we pushed our way through the house.

"Why the Hell did you buy strippers?" I asked.

"You can't have a party without titties. Besides, I saved three months to help purchase these chicks," KRAZED said with a grin.

KRAZED and I worked at McDonald's at the time, making minimum wage—$5.15 an hour back then—plus the money we made every weekend from liquor sales.

"We have titties every where already; walk up stairs—it's a fuck fest," I said.

"Not titties like these," KRAZED said, with a mischief grin.

"You got the shit?" KRAZED asked Santa.

"In the back of the truck…waiting on you…" Santa replied, as he wore his Santa hat.

"Got what?!" I asked nervously, knowing KRAZED's mentality and thought process.

"Strippers and kegs, motherfucker. Strippers and kegs…" KRAZED said, with a mischief grin.

After saying that, KRAZED ran over to my dining room table, stood on top, and shouted, "we got strippers and kegs! $10 entry fee for unlimited beer, titties, and music! Call and text all of your friends! Strippers and kegs! Invite everyone you know!"

"Oh my god…" I thought to myself.

KRAZED jumped off of the table and ran over to me and said, "we're making bank tonight, motherfucker!"

"We already sold out at the kiddy pool, and Brandon and Levi [the other two 'Four Horsemen'] are on another beer run now to replenish the pool; plus, Santa bought three kegs, taking a cut out of the keg profit," KRAZED added.

"How much did we make out of the kiddie pool?" I asked.

"$328," KRAZED said, smiling.

"Where the Hell did you get the strippers?" I asked.

"Santa knows them—they work up in Nebraska at the 'Spearmint'," KRAZED said.

"How much did that cost?" I asked, nervously.

"$500 apiece, plus all of the weed and liquor they can consume," KRAZED said, smiling.

"Do you honestly think you can make $2,000 to pay for all of this," I asked, confused.

"Shit is already paid for, son—Santa and I took care of that. Plus, we have tonight and tomorrow's party to make the money. Whatever we do not sell tonight, we sell tomorrow. We have three kegs, plus a pool full of beer… Besides, I am not worried about profit; I am here to party," KRAZED said, grinning.

"Why the Hell do you guys call him Santa?" I asked, nervously.

"Because he delivers presents…lots and lots of presents," KRAZED said, laughing, with a shit-eating-grin.

About that time, the strobe lights turned on, and Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me" blared through the speakers, as the two strippers started dancing in Santa's truck bed in my backyard.

"Lots and lots of presents," KRAZED said, laughing, with a shit-eating-grin.

Luckily, I lived in the sticks, and my closes neighbors were three miles down the gravel, country road, because Santa's DJ speaker system blared, while strobe lights lit up my backyard like a 'whore in distress signal,' and we had whores…lots and lots of whores running and dancing in my house and backyard.

Strippers on a truck, dancing in strobe lights to Def Leppard…the most redneck shit I have ever experienced in my life. The only thing we were missing was a fucking mud hole for mud wrestling.

At about 2:30am, there was a long line of fifty to sixty cars lined down my gravel road, and in my driveway—fuckers from four different cities, and eight different high schools and universities, that I knew of. We had Savannah, Saint Joseph, Kansas City, and DeKalb, converged into one massive party, full of all lifestyles—fuckers I had never met in my life. We had rednecks and city slickers partying together, and fucking each other in this twisted version of 'Redneck Animal House'.

When I walked into my house, I noticed it was full of smoke, and a long line of guys stretched throughout my house… These fuckers were high as fuck, while waiting to enter my bathroom.

"What the Hell?" I thought to myself.

I walk into my bathroom full of smoke to see two chicks sucking and jerking off four guys. Evidently, they were so high and fucked up that they sucked off every single guy that entered that bathroom.

"How whorish do you have to be?" I thought to myself, as I flopped out my pecker to join the party.

As I stood there getting my dick sucked, I shared the bathroom's community joint. Within three minutes, I nutted inside the cute Asian's mouth. By that time, I was dizzy, wobbly, and my eyes were blurry.

"What the fuck is in that joint, bro?" I asked the fucker that handed me the joint.

"Dude, it’s a fucking primo, man—weed laced with coke, bro", the fucker said, laughing hysterically.

By that time, I was so burnt that I did not care that there was cocaine inside of my house. My god—how did we survive as young fuckers?

"Phillips! [KRAZED] Phillips! Where the fuck is Phillips?!" I screamed throughout the house, as I staggered and stumbled, laughing my ass off in the process.

I was so burnt, I could not quit laughing… My god…what was so funny?

"He's outside with Santa and the strippers," one of the "bouncers" yelled at me…

"God damn it, Phillips! Phillips!" I screamed as I grabbed every titty I walked past.

I get outside and I see KRAZED, Santa, the twins, the two strippers, and the other two 'Horsemen' sitting inside of the truck bed taking shots.

"Phillips!" I screamed, as I fell down the fucking patio steps, crashing on my chest and stomach.

Those bastards did not try and help me up, either. They all sat in the back of the truck, laughing their asses off.

"Suicide!" KRAZED yelled, as he laughed at me.

"Hold on! I want in!" I screamed, as I pulled myself off the ground.

We sat in the truck and did a 'suicide'. 'Suicide' is a quick drinking game where each person must drink three shots of vodka. The last person to drink all three shots must take a fourth shot. Of course, one of the strippers lost. By that time, I could not feel my face—my body was numb and tingly.

"Fuckers are in my house smoking primos, bro—fucking cocaine," I slurred, talking to KRAZED.

"What the fuck—the bouncers were supposed to regulate that shit," KRAZED said, as he and the other two 'Horsemen' went to kick out the fuckers with cocaine.

"Hello, sexy…" I slurred, as I laid my head against the breasts of the topless stripper that lost the 'suicide' game.

The next thing I know, I wake up in the back of Santa's truck, as rain poured down on top of me, while lightning and thunder streaked and echoed across the sky.

I sit up like a fucking zombie raising from its grave, and notice that I am butt-ass naked, with a cum filled condom hanging off of my limp dick.

I look around my backyard, and noticed that it was covered in plastic cups and beer bottles, while devoid of human life, except Santa that was passed out in the kiddie pool…

I walk over to check on Santa, as the condom dangled from my limp dick. Santa passed out in the pool, holding a Bud Light bottle, wearing only his Santa hat and his boxers…

"What the fuck happened last night?" I thought to myself.

I walked into my house and noticed that it was full of sleeping people, covering my entire house floors. No bullshit—I had a fucking naked chick curled up into a ball, asleep on top of my dining room table. When I went to step over the first body, the condom slid off my dick, and landed on the back of a sleeping female, splattering cum down her back. I just kept walking, and stepping over human landmines, looking for KRAZED.

Eventually, I made my way up into my room, so I could pass out and go back to bed. Lo and behold, I find KRAZED, naked, sleeping in my bed with Kali, while her sister slept on the floor, at the foot of the bed, fully clothed.

"Dude, you fucked in my bed," I told KRAZED, as I woke him up.

"Chill out—nothing got on your bed… The condom is on the floor," KRAZED said, trying to reassure me.

"I'm cold and tired…"

"Jump in bed, fucker," KRAZED said, as he scooted over closer to Kali, who was also butt-ass-naked.

"Just point your dick away from my ass," KRAZED added, as he rolled over, facing Kali.

I laid in bed, thinking about the condom…

"Why the fuck did I wake up with a condom on my dick?" I asked KRAZED.

"You fucked some three-hundred-fifty-pound-fat chick, bro…" KRAZED said, laughing.

"What?! Who the fuck was she, and where is she?" I asked, confused.

"Dude, you don't remember? You asked for the condom as you stripped butt-ass-naked in front of everyone… You screamed, 'I'm getting fucked by a hottie tonight!'" KRAZED said, laughing hysterically.

"I don't remember shit…" I said, confused as fuck.

"It is a blessing in disguise, Krazee."