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A game where the male appendage is the stick and someone's tonsil is the puck.
He got his daily requirement of protein from playing tonsil hockey.
Hopefully with a partner. (Not the inflatable kind.)
Similar to Driving the big white bus, only this time you are on your knees in front of the toilet puking up your lunch, everything you had to drink in the past 8 hours and part of your small intestine. You are also swearing to God or Jesus or the Devil or whoever that you will NEVER EVER NEVER get so fucking wasted again for the rest of your life, but probably will at the next party you are invited to next weekend.
Services beging following Happy hour.
1. Obviously, male masturbation
2. Spending way too much time in chat rooms trading insults with people you don't even know.
3. Beating up the local neighborhood geek.
Brian: Watcha doin Friday night?
Kevin: I'm pounding my monkey, what else?
Brian: Well, lets find Dave and do some REAL monkey pounding!
Kevin: Kule!
The sounds made by the springs in the bed as you are screwing your girlfriend. Usually heard by people in the room directly below you, as well as people in adjoining rooms.
Hell, if the bed is old enough and you and her are fat enough, the bedspring chorus will be heard half way to the next county.
Dull, lifeless, boring, unexciting lovemaking, as in non X-rated sex. You know, like when you get married.
A day without sunshine is like sex without the X.
The desire to crack open a cold one.
Nothing beats a cold one on a hot day.