Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates Read Free Page B

dork ? Let’s talk about Michael Phelps. You’d think a twenty-two-time Olympic medalist would get some amusement from two drunk strangers trying to engage him in a debate over what the best five-dollar foot-long is. Mike was pushing meatball marinara (such a slob) over my classic cold-cut combo. I can’t believe Phelps didn’t back me up. He was sitting in the middle of our heated debate and acted like we didn’t exist. Screw you, Phelps! Lochte 2016!!!
    Before it came time to hit the Today show couch, we were introduced to Natalie Morales (babe) and Matt Lauer ( super babe!). I basically shoved Natalie aside to shake hands with Matt. I couldn’t even tell you what Natalie looked like, but I can recall in detail exactly how nice Matt’s suit was. He was fit as a fiddle, too. And his handshake? Top-notch. We exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, until they realized that it was indeed a gallon of bourbon they smelled on our breath.
    As they finished another segment, we got mic’d up on the couch. We noticed a set of thick-rim glasses and an iPhone on the coffee table in front of Matt’s chair. Lauer, you fool! Mike and I wasted no time. We posed for selfies on his phone until Lauer came in from his segment. He wasn’t happy with us. He made that clear. That was when we saw a true dose of Lauer Power. He calmly sat down in his chair, informed us we had one minute and thirty seconds until we were on, then began to rip us apart. For a minute and twenty-nine seconds straight, he attacked everything about us—our suits, how goofy we were, Mike’s sweat issues, my boner that wouldn’t go away, grammatical errors in our Craigslist ad (my fault), where this amount of bourbon consumption would probably lead us long term, you name it. I’ve never respected a man more. This was a guy who interviewed Barack Obama two weeks earlier and came off as the most articulate journalist in the country. Now he was slicing and dicing two drunk goons on his couch. The second the cameras turned to us, he snapped right back into business mode. Total pro.
    Mike’s close to climax and Dave is in active orgasm. They really like Matt Lauer. Photo courtesy of Denise Stangle
    The next stop on our media tour took place a few days later. You think my man-crush on Lauer was big? Let’s talk about Anderson Cooper. Whenever I need to do a gay litmus test on myself (every couple of months), I stare at a picture of Coops for an hour straight. In the end, if my wiener doesn’t move, it confirms I’m not gay. Bottom line: if I can’t be attracted to that man, I can’t be attracted to any man. How does he get his hair to look like that? It doesn’t even make sense.
    Needless to say when Mike and I found out we were going on Coops, we were ecstatic. We again woke up at 4:30 a.m. to start partying, put down a dozen bourbon mint coffees, and listen to Summer Hits of the 90s, because why the fuck wouldn’t we? Except this time we had guests. The night before we had gone on a double date with two gals who replied to our Craigslist ad, and wouldn’t ya know, it turned into a double sleepover. The ladies were understandably alarmed when Mike and I started pacing around the apartment ass-naked, doing push-ups.
    We four lovebirds piled into the car service SUV at 10:30 a.m. and headed toward Coops’s studio. We were all over the girls, making out, touchin’ boobies, actin’ a fool! You’d think our driver would be horrified. Nope. Not Sal. Guys named Sal are incapable of being horrified. I might name my son Sal.
    Those gals were swell, but they weren’t so thrilled when we got to the studio and their names weren’t on the security list. It was the perfect out; security had done our dirty work. Before departing, Mike grabbed his gal by both sides of her face and gave her this really long, passionate, and awkward kiss goodbye. It sounded like he was trying to