The Book Whore-der's Delights: A "performance" review of The Wingman, James Holeva

Most of you that follow the blog know that the girls and I have a semi hard on for James Holeva, author of The Wingman Chronicles. He's funny, dirty and straight to the point..... Basically he's me but with a dick. If you haven't read The Wingman Chronicles yet you should definitely check that out. You can read Steph's and my reviews here:

http://whoredersdelights.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-wingman-chronicles-by-james-holeva.html?m=1

and get all the information you need to be able to creep on him. This particular post isn't a review for his book though. It's a review for his performance..... Not that kind of performance, though I bet that would be fun and I would totally take one for the team to review.

If you're new to the blog and haven't heard of our love (just a lil' bit'o' love because a lot would be creepy) for James, well then allow me to tell you a little bit about him. Not only is he a pretty awesome author of a hilarious book, but he's also a comedian and friend. Now I could just get to the point and tell you how funny he is and how well he works a crowd, but there is some very important background information that actually pushed the hermit in me out of its shell to be able to make it to one of his shows.

One very horrible morning, I woke up and went about my regular routine of consuming as much coffee as possible before the demonlings.... Ermm I mean before my sweet and angelic children woke up. Who the fuck am I kidding? We all know my kids make me want to become an alcoholic. I was working on pot of coffee #2 when Steph sends me a message on facebook. The conversation went a little something like this:

Steph: Do you want in on The Wingman Chronicles?

Me: I don't even know what that means. Lol

Steph: Its a funny ass raunchy book about sex in a mans POV.

Me: Then yes, I want in on it. I don't even understand why you would need to ask me that. That's like asking a fat kid if he wants cake. We all know its gonna happen.

Steph: lol. Okay, he just emailed the book over.

Me: sweet! I'll get to it as soon as I can.

Somewhere between that conversation and mustering up the energy to get myself around for the day, I had sent James a friend request on Facebook because I sometimes like to communicate with the authors while I'm reading a book...... Okay that's actually a lie. I was curious to find out what James looked like. It's not often that I read male authors in the erotic romance filled world that I live in and after having Steph tell me about his book, I was hoping he wasn't going to look like a troll because that totally would have ruined his book for me. I lucked out and despite the several inches of hair sitting atop his head....not trollish looking at all.

I continue going about my day and had several of those "What the fuck just happened?" moments that go along with motherhood, not to mention an O that had been on a several week long hiatus. I will admit I was short tempered. You would be too if your O just decided to tie a satchel to a stick and hobo it up. That's a story for another day though. So I had just started regaining my vision back from a tooth paste infused contact lense debacle and trying to hold off on taking shots before 9am, when my phone alerts me that I have a message on Facebook.

James: Hey Chrissy. Thanks for friending me. Are you coming to my Chicago show?

Me: No. Chicago is one of my favorite places to go but I have kids and no life. But I am getting ready to read your book soon.

James: You should come to Chicago and have a life.

I'm going to be honest. Though I don't recall the EXACT details of that first message, I apparently pulled bitch rank because I clearly made a lasting impression with James as he dubbed me "angry". A couple weeks go by and I had finally managed to work The Wingman Chronicles into my reading list and I truly loved everything about his book. If you want to read my review for that then click on the link in the first paragraph like you should have done to begin with. Now, keep in mind that it had been maybe two weeks between my first conversation with James and when I sent him the link for my review. There were only a few other correspondences between he and I and basically it was him trying to convince me to come to one of his shows and me resisting because A.) I'm a goal oriented person and don't often like to reward myself until my goals have been reached. B.) I'm a hermit. I have 3 kids that wear me the fuck out. I don't want to leave my house if I don't have to. And C.) Trying to find someone to watch all 3 of my kids at once is like a virgin having sex for the first time. Painful and usually ending without satisfaction.

After seeing my review, the other girls on the blog read the book and somehow we all started communicating with James more. If you follow the blog than you know we're ruthless, horny bitches so I'm sure that was enjoyable for James. He had eventually flat out told me that I was an angry person. I was still playing Sherlock Holmes and The Case of the Missing O at this point, so I will admit I probably did sound like a raging cunt. Whether he was purposely trying to get a reaction from me or not, it REALLY annoyed me! I have NEVER been called "angry" before. I mean I literally laugh at just about anything even remotely perverted. I prank my friends and husband often just because i like to laugh at their misery. I know what you're thinking and I agree. I would want to be my friend also. Anyways, Wendy, whom happens to be as hermit-y as myself (Can you really blame us though? We live smack dab in the center of an Amish filled community in Northern Indiana), had made a comment about going to James' show in Cleveland and I agreed because I felt like I needed to rectify myself. As much as I shouldn't care what other people's opinions of me are I NEEDED to prove that I am NOT an angry person. Plus I just needed to get the fuck away from my kids for a night. That makes me sound like a horrible mother. I love my kids, I swear! They're pretty awesome sometimes. Like when they're sleeping. After carefully wording and convincing my husband why I needed a girls night away, we eventually had plans to road trip to Cleveland.

Clare flew into Cleveland from Virginia, Sally drove from West Virginia, Deena Bright met us at the show because she's already in Cleveland (you should read her books Schooled and Schooled two: The Final Lesson Plan because they're hot and steamy and made me laugh. Plus she went through a whole lot of unnecessary bullshit for those books.) and Wendy, our friend Ashley and I made the 4 hour drive from Indiana.

We had 5 girls squeezed into a small hotel room in Cleveland where we had an awesome view of The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame overlooking Lake Erie, Sally and Clare thought it looked like the ocean but to the rest of us it looked like a normal Great Lake. Having lived in northern Indiana we were not so awe inspired by the size of Lake Erie. It looks no different than Lake Michigan to me. We specifically picked the Double Tree in downtown Cleveland because it was, according to google maps, 0.2 miles from the bar where James was performing and we figured it wouldn't be that long of a walk. What we didn't know was that there are actually TWO 9th streets in Cleveland, an east and a west and they run north and south NOT east and west. What. The. Fuck?!? The walk from the hotel probably was 0.2 miles but we walked further than we needed to down the wrong 9th street in heels.... Wes Craven was from Cleveland, the insanity that he conjures in his mind is probably derived from not knowing where the FUCK he was going growing up. We eventually made it to Anatomy night club barefoot and with heels in hand around 7:15pm. We found our seats and ordered our drinks. We were serenaded outside while we were smoking by some guy who's name I can't remember but I wish I did because he had a really awesome voice..... I even gave him a $1 from my vodka fund, which is like donating $1,000,000.00 to a charity for me. We don't fuck with Chrissy's vodka fund. EVER. We strategically wrote down our questions for the Q&A portion of the show as we waited.

Shortly after 8pm and a couple of drinks and shots in already, the show finally begins. Josh Womack opened for James and he was funny and even made me laugh despite his skinny jeans which were reason to laugh at him alone. He's a little guy and I'm convinced he's a midget, despite what he says. Sally wants to get a fanny pack just so she can carry him around in that. Then FINALLY the time came for James to come out. The girls and I strategically placed me literally front and center of the stage. We were hoping to intimidate him with my charm and "angriness." I don't know if that necessarily worked but I had a good seat regardless and I didn't have to try and watch the show between people's shoulders, which is a typical short girl problem I encounter often.

This is where the difficulty of my "performance review" comes in. As I had mentioned, by the time James finally made it to the stage I was already several drinks in so recalling ALL that he had said on stage is a difficult task for myself. I do remember laughing a lot. I know I had tears in my eyes from laughing shortly after he took the stage. There was a point where I had to get up and pee and I didn't want to because I didn't want to miss anything and maybe a little bit because I was afraid that if I got up in the middle of his show he was going to call me out on something because that's what he does. He finds people in the crowd and works them into the show, which is actually an awesome talent to be able to come up with material on the spot to make fun of people you've never seen before. (See what i mean when i say that he's basically me but with a dick?) That's a part of his show that can't be rehearsed and therefor equals true talent.

There was another portion where he was literally laying at my feet. I kinda maybe really liked him there. Who WOULDN'T want a man that says he eats box like a lesbian porn star laying at their feet? Plus he had a belt around his neck so it was kinda hot. Okay "kinda" is an understatement. It was totally hot. If I was into the dominatrix thing I probably would have squirted all over him but I take greater pleasure in being the submissive. I vaguely recall him asking me at some point during his show what kind of panties I had on and me telling him I wasn't answering that question. If my memory serves me correctly I showed him later that night and unfortunately not the way I would have wanted to show him. Pretty sure even drunk i wouldn't forget that. Then the q&a portion started and while I can't recall ALL of the questions the girls and I came up with, I do recall Sally's question being "What hotel are you staying at? so Chrissy can stalk you later"...... That was my payback for maybe mentioning to James previously that week that she talks about him a lot. She doesn't, by the way, but she was my quickest cover up. The bitch got me back good and it makes me love her more for it. Our questions were worded and designed to trip James up. We were a militia of bitches that were purposely trying to throw James off guard and to watch him stumble. To our dismay it never happened. He answered each and everyone of our questions with ease, never faltering and still making us laugh. Then the infamous spanking portion came and though he tried to get me on stage for that, I resisted. I'm all for spankings in the right setting but on stage and my panties still on is definitely not the right setting for me. Clare, my dear sweet fellow whoreder, took one for the team. I may or may not have cummed as I watched James bend her over a stool and smack the shit out of her ass. It was hot and hilarious and a little bit degrading to watch and I loved every single minute of it from the bottom of my perverted heart.

I could go into so much more detail about his show but then I would be stealing his thunder and you wouldn't go and see him live, which I recommend because its an all around amazing experience. After the show we hung out with James at the bar, where he signed my tit (I had awesome cleavage that particular night, so I feel like I need to give a huge shout out to Victoria's Secret.) James informed me that I do actually make him laugh. I'm not so "angry" anymore and am actually really fun and awesome. And hot. He said I was hot and I agreed.

My memories of this particular night slowly start to fade as the night goes on but here's the run down. A very bad bartender with Dr. Seuss tattoos, because nothing says "bad boy" like sleeves of children's story book characters. A plethora of meeting new people walking by while we were outside smoking.... A couple or maybe it was most of them trying to get me to leave with them. Wendy successfully shooed them off by saying "Move the fuck along!" When she would ask if they wanted Notre Dame or Michigan to win the following nights football game. They kept saying Michigan. Those kind of people can never be our friends. The sound of someone walking into a lamp post across the street is one of the most hilarious noises you can ever hear in your lifetime and if my memory serves me correctly that was inadvertently James' doing so my lil bit'o'love for him grew in that moment. Wendy shoving water in my hand because I clearly needed to un-drunk myself. I don't think I actually drank the water. I think I held on to it for awhile and then when I realized it was only water I asked why the fuck I had water in my hand. James is very touchy when you try to grab for his phone. Strippers are really nice people. They let you touch their tits and I didn't even have to extract dollar bills from my vodka fund to do it.

Somewhere around 3am we stumbled from the bar, myself in size 10 fluorescent pink flip flops that came from the communal bag (I wear a size 6 shoe. I had several inches of flip flop hanging off both ends of my feet.) apparently we were too drunk to realize that a fucking party was happening around us the entire night, or maybe that was just me, because there were drunk people everywhere and cops hanging out with them in the streets. After parting ways with James, a block in the wrong direction from the hotel which is proof that James made us his bitches since we followed him like that sad little puppies we were, we eventually made it back to our hotel after being eye fucked by a Cleveland police officer,whom, once he got his fill of us, randomly ran a red light. Sally and I encountered an irate patron laying on the sofa in the lobby of the hotel informing us not to use the word fuck in the lobby or we will get arrested. His friend was being arrested because of it. I believe, as I was extremely intoxicated at this point, my response was "why the fuck not?" And then "Am I allowed to say cunt?"

Once we were all back in the hotel room Wendy, Clare, and I made a Chrissy sandwich, took a picture and then sent it to James before Clare had to head down to catch a cab to the airport and the remainder of us passed out. I think I woke up still drunk the following morning and I was a little bit sad that the comforter on the bed now held James' signature from my tit. Apparently I was so drunk I didn't even move in my sleep because the comforter signature wasn't even smeared. It was an exact replica of what my cleavage once donned. I should have taken a picture of that. Lucky fucking comforter.

Altogether it was an amazing experience. I was able to meet Clare, one of the newest members of our blog. I got to see Sally again since it had been since April, I got to hang out and road trip with my BFF, Wendy and hang out with our friend Ashley as well. I also got to prove to James that I'm most definitely not an angry person at all which was my number one purpose for traveling to Cleveland aside from just having a great time and he told me i was hot. If thats not winning then i don't know what is. If James Holeva is ever in your area I highly recommend that you go to see him perform live. He won't disappoint...... Still wishing I could say that about another kind of performance review.

Clare, Wendy and I with our new friend Pam..... I think her name was Pam anyways. I saw her friends ass. It's nice.

James and I and my signed cleavage.

James getting ready to spank Clare. Its a blurry picture because I was drunk and possibly mid-orgasm

James mid-hump jump into Clare's ass. I'm a little jealous of her ass. James can hump jump into me anytime.

Sally and I impressed with my cleavage.

Sally, myself, Wendy, Clare and Ashley. Bartender Seuss was kind enough to take this picture of us. That's about all he was good for because his drinks sucked ass. He didn't even like my sexual innuendo comment when he was making my drink. People need to lighten the fuck up.

Myself and Sally

James and Wendy's foot. I'm a little jelly of Wendy's cooch too. His face is right there between her legs.

Ashley and Clare. Am I the only one that think Clare looks like a midget here?

James laying at our feet. Tell me that's not hot. It totally is. Plus as much of an aversion I have to feet.... Ours look fucking hot in this picture. Also if memory serves me correctly that leg in the background belongs to Brian from the Playing with Damaged Goods chapter of The Wingman Chronicles.

Ashley and James. Maybe she's trying to eat his face? I'm not quite sure but he seems to be enjoying it.

Sally and Josh Womack. That guy is a tiny tot. I'm convinced I was taller than him despite what everyone else said. I felt taller and that's a huge feat for a fun sized person.