
merry christmas!
We're just four little girls.
This made me laugh and cry. Well I actually cried because it made me laugh so hard Fanta came out my nose and the little bubbles hurt a lot. And to be honest I didn't really cry, I just sort of teared up as I said fuck a lot. Anyway. This is maaaaaaaaad funny.
So. I’ve failed as a cultural correspondent. It seems that going out and having fun / a lot of school work, makes you not want to write about some of the strange shit that has gone down around you. So now, trying to procrastinate from writing one of the dumbest essays I’ve ever had to write I shall start sketching (10 points for the pun. Count it!) out my impressions of
So you want drugs do you? Well that’s good news because they are fucking everywhere. And apparently everybody wants to sell them to you. I’m not joking about that either, you walk two feet into Soho or
The people of the city of
However watching street fights can be endlessly amusing. The best time to look for said street brawls are between the hours of 2am and 4am, in one of these three locations:
Good times until somebody gets stabbed that is. There’s an average of around 180 something stabbings a day here. And it’s not like NY were you really need to antagonize somebody to get stabbed. Apparently people just go buck fucking wild with stabbings here. Let me give you an example of why this is very very scary.
If you get into a fight in NY, the worst that will generally happen is that you get beaten badly and the offender will flag down a cab (if he or she is kind), or just leave you on the side walk.
If you get into a fight in
If you are mugged in NY, the mugger may brandish a knife and tell you to give him all of your money, cell phone, and iPod or whatever. You give them to him. He tells you not to move for two min and then runs away. You are scared shitless, but alive.
If you are mugged in
Oh yeah, on a side note, I read in the paper this morning that some dude is running around south London whacking people with a meat cleaver. Like running up. Wacking. Then running away. He hasn’t killed anybody yet but he has caused some damage. What the fuck is up with this town?
Now dear readers please wait six more weeks for my next instalment. Pubs Clubs and Drinks.
LDR out.
So I was talking to these two girls here in my dorm about getting high. We were talking about things we like to do while high: watching movies, reading, doing arty things, and what have you…When I said oh shit! We forgot the best thing to do while high. One of the girls turned to me and said “Sleep?” Very close I said. Fuck! The girl who said sleep looks over and says: “Hell no.” And I’m just flat out astounded. How is that possible, I ask her? “I have a thing about being touched when I’m high. I don’t like it. It makes having sex while stoned nearly impossible.” Fair play. The other girl agrees with me that it is, indeed, wonderful. And then drops this little gem. “But only sometimes.” And so I ask her why only sometimes…and well there is a long pause while she thinks about what she is going to say next.
“Well you know how you sometimes you cottonmouth when you get high?”
Sure I said.
“Yeah…well…”
I drink some water? I mean if you drink some water, kissing isn’t bad at all while stoned. You can nip that cottonmouth right in the bud. Drink some water, make out, drink some water. Fuck. Drink some water. No need to really worry about cottonmouthing if you are prepared, says I.
“No. You don’t get it. I’m not really talking about cottonmouth. I’m talking about cotton…you know”
Wah Huh?
Neither of the girls say anything and just stare at me.
Oooooh. I get it! Cottonvag!
Wait what?
No fucking way!
“Exactly.”
I never even thought about that. I mean I guess it makes sense. But I’m wondering if this is a unique problem or a widespread problem. So I ask you ladies of this blog and fellow female posters, is cottonvag a problem? Like for real? Inquiring minds wish to know!
LDR out.
Um, what a bunch of queerballs. Crushing beer cans between your bare breasts is awesome and HARD, y'all, just ask Diana. That shit is an art, and that barmaid is an artist, it's like if someone tried to fine Robbie Williams.
Also, I wish I had an off-duty colleague who'd fucking hang spoons off my nipples! In the past every time I'd ask Lily to help me out she'd get all coy and say "now now, you know I can't give away my secret techniques" and I'd say "Uch spread the WEALTH" but recently when we went to the Tyra Banks show and had to pass through metal detectors for Tyra's protection the truth came out as Lily whispered to the security guard "I can't go through there, my nipples are magnetic." CHEATER!
In any case, I knew I never liked Australia, what with their koala wrestling and those motherfucking Outback Steakhouse commercials, but this tatter-intolerance seals the deal yo.
A police statement said the 76-year-old Turk confronted the other man, 58, at a bus stop in Wimpassing near Vienna on Wednesday, shot him at close range, sliced off the man's penis with a kitchen knife and laid it beside him before fleeing.
The gunman was arrested in a nearby apartment building, offering no resistance. During questioning, he admitted the killing and said he was relieved "because he had rescued his honor," the statement said.
Yay! I love a severed penis story, and this one's especially delicious because of the foreign elderly and gunfight factors. I really like that not only did this Turk wait to cut the penis until after the guy was already dead, but that he "sliced" it using a kitchen knife. Yum! Also I'm loving that he took the time to "lay it beside him before fleeing." That shows real style and professional pride and on a Romanian man chopping off his own penis thinking it was a chicken scale of foreign severed penises stories this rates a 6 or 7 at. least.
Related: How much better would the word "penis" be if it were spelled "peanus" ?
TeenHollywood: Okay, the boys moon someone in December Boys. Was that a fanny double?
Daniel: [laughs] No. That's me, that's the genuine Radcliffe ass. It certainly is. I'm proud of it. *
Greetings from merry old
As I was walking home from mo'money’s house last night (or two nights ago, I have no clue, I’m fucking jet lagged), my leisurely walk home was stopped by a Don’t Walk sign at 103rd and b-way. Being the good, if somewhat fucked up, Samaritan, I of course stop. I’m really not paying that much attention to my surroundings, fantasying about how English people will love me and my charming American ways, when suddenly a sultry feminine voice croons into my ear, “Hey you looking for a date." My first thought was, how does she know that? I am looking for a date. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the dating scene or what have you, but I have been looking to get back in - find the right girl, settle down, have some kids, yadda yadda yadda. But then as the slow gears in my brain start working, I realize that a woman saying that in your ear at 3 a.m. on Broadway has less to do with getting dinner and a movie, a cup of coffee, or a beer, and much more to do with me give her 20 bones for a blowjob. I, feeling very uncomfortable, say "I'm sorry ma'am, I don't have that much money," and try and walk away. She follows me saying, "well how much you got?" This of course, stops me dead in my tracks – part of me wants to see just how far I can get this lady-of-the-night to drop her price, and the sane part of my brain wants to go home without an STD. This is when I actually look at her face, and the part that wants to haggle shuts up. I tell her politely that I'm not looking for a date and keep walking. I think that I'm now in the clear, and that was just something silly that happens sometimes in the city.
Two blocks later her pimp catches up to me. Her motherfucking PIMP. He is a big big scary looking gangbanger, not at all like the Snoop-Dog-cute pimps that you see in movies. This is a fucking scary-guy-trying-to-make-ends-meet-by-selling-the-bodies-
of-women-he-regularly-beats-up pimp. I'm calculating how high pitched and loud I can scream if he tries anything. "Hey Man you looking for a girl?" No I say, and keep walking. He is now walking beside me. "Well I got other girls if you didn't like that one. You want a white girl?" Why the fuck does he have to go and make it all racial? No, I say, beside the oral herpes, that one was fine. He is still following me. "Well would you like some drugs?" No, I'm fine thanks, I already did some tonight and I think I'm good. "Do you wanna come smoke a joint with me?" No thank you. I am humbled by your generosity in sharing your bud, but frankly I'm terrified of you and I just want go home now. "That's cool. Sorry to bother you man. I'm sure you don't need to tell nobody 'bout this. Have a good night." I can't even begin to think who would want to hear about this sir. "Bye." He smiles, showing his teeth, several of which are missing, and a few of them are gold. He then turns around and walks the other way. I keep walking toward my house, never looking behind me, because I'm too terrified he is following me.