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monsterMMF said:That's funny, because I've never seen a fucking American wear such stupid shit unless they are 80 years old.. Quit trying to join the crowd.. Europeans dress more awkward than Americans. American males don't wear 3/4 leg pants and think they look cool. Quit with the bitching and get on with it.. It's that way in every country.. for any type of tourist..
yep, want me to tell you haow it feels?jack_schitt said:Have you ever kissed a girl?
give me a list of the ports you visited, and ill give you the lowdown on the cityziggyziggy said:I never had a problem getting laid in your home country, regardless of what I wore. One of your servicemembers said something to me over a beer that put the reason in perspective...
"You Yanks call your women ladies........ we call our whores!"
BTW, I love Aussie women
Zig
GoldenDelicious said:yep, want me to tell you haow it feels?![]()
because chefbone is a dickhead, ive slapped him down a few times and he doesnt really know how to cope, except to lash out.tinytank said:hey golden D, why chef bone bomb you ?
post pics of said belt wearing hotty, otherwise i dont think ill ever be able to read another one of your books againGoldenDelicious said:for the past 9 days, elements of the US Marine Corps, the US Navy, and US Airforce invaded my home town. again. (im bored right now and in the mood to type, so if anyone has a problem with reading because they were kicked out of school in year 3, shup and leave now, bitches) (yes im a bit moody too)
now, as i have often bitched in the past, my home town is overopulated with men, and while very, very few of them look really, really good when they go out on the town, painting it red in travoltaesque fashion (), there are so damn many of the suckers that the women in the town are completely free of any sort of socio-darwinian pressure to look good, and develop beer guts, stomach tentacles, pizza faces, have their toes merge so that there are only 3 of them instead of 5, sprout beards niftier than all the Backstreet boys put together, and generally look like a mix between a powerlifting champion, a beerdrinking champion, the crud on the floor of a pizzaria, and the nocturnal exhibition at the famous Sydney Zoo. but anyway, im rambling, back to the fooking yanks...
so anyway, i was out and about the other weekend, totally oblivious to the american invasion, when i noticed something really really weird about the guys around me - they were all wearing sneakers so white that they were brighter than the sun shining out of my arse, with whiter than white ankle high socks, with boardshorts, wifebeaters, and a long sleeve Paul Bunyan style checkered longsleeved button up shirt with a collar, plus or minus some really cheesy bling bling gold chains
now, my first thought was "oh shit...fuuuuuck meeeee.....theres been a yank invasion again, someone roofie me right now" but then i looked them up and down and thought..."man...talk about self cockblocking...thats some serious contraceptive crossdressing going on right there....aint NO way these guys are getting laid tonight without their best friend VISA and his buddy MasterCard..."
anyway, i almost felt bad for them at the cosmic joke the universe had played on them (i mean, being locked on a boat for 3 months then going on shore leave to my town?buddy stay on the boat, trust me, some cheeky bastard brought you here to make Iraq feel a bit more enjoyable
) but then the accents started to get on my nerves, and so did the guys asking where the nearest whorehouse was (i was tempted to say "at your moms house, like usual, you fat bastard"...but there were 5 of them, and i had my slippery dancing shoes on, not my grippy kung fu slippers, so it would have been a bad idea)
so anyway, i continue on to a nightclub that gets good when i get thereD) and meet up with some friends, including a really nice looking brunette in this really small black dress (aka a belt) which normally would have been a good thing, but noooooooooooo, i had 2353 yanks come up to me and spit out all sorts of variations of "sheeeet is that yer gurl? wowee she shure is preety!" (no shit you fagalicious dressing homo, shes with me, wtf did you expect? dont you read EF? dont you know who i am? muthafuckaaaaaaahhahaaaa?!!?!")
so anyway, we leave the club at 4am, and i step outside into a swarm (SWARM! omg!!!) of desperado yankees mixed in with ferocious, sex starved locals, and even more ferocious, sugar craving local chicks, all starting to get that hubbub of a group of people about to beat the hell out of each other, and so we hoof it back to the hotel room before we found ourselves in a melee, what with me not wearing my kung fu shoes...bad idea.
anyway, um, thats it. sorry it wasnt more interesting. all the jarheads in the audience, take note: thou shalt not emulate paul bunyan. thou shalt not wear sneakers that belong on a bleach commercial. thou shalt not attempt to compete with The Delicious for a frolick with His women, lest thy confidence be mulched into the earth beneath thy stupid, sneaker clad feet.
cheeriosnext week ill tell you about finding that cheeky mofo that had a swing at me the other week
(and missed
)