Sunday, July 26, 2009

And here we are

May 2008, fourteen months ago was my last post about the stories I had the honor, pleasure and misfortune to encounter.

Now, after fourteen months, I am back.

This time I have no intention to leave for some long time to come, have no intention to stop making the reader laugh, or get pissed off, for that matter.

Welcome back for some true stories, told as they happened..

And, here we go! Five new ones for you!


Spartans in da toilet

It is late in the night, and a combination of beer, coffee, and water forced me to check out with the men's restroom

I go in, in a rush, and ignore my surroundings

After the first pressure leaves, I look to my right, to see two hipsters enjoying the urinal. (what is a hipster:

We got two hipsters, pants down to the ankle, bare butted, enjoying a swordfight with their wastewater.

Still ok... I used to swordfight with my pee when I was like five...

Still ok, till:

One of the barebutt, pants down to ankle guys breaks off the swordfight to continue peeing on his friend.

Now, I am there enjoying a pleasant relaxing moment, when I got two barebutt guys on my side, one peeing on the other.

The other hipster, noticing he s getting peed on, goes “Fuuuuuck”, and turns on his friend.

Now, I am still there enjoying a pleasant relaxing moment, when I got two barebutt guys running in circles like the duelling cowboys, and peeing on eachother... And succeeding.

A sight to behold, another reason to love this country.

I am the man

Out in a hipster club, shiny shoes, fitting jeans, and a tight shirt with only the bottom buttoned.

Yep, I a place full of hipsters who have no idea what sports is, I like to show off my well trained hairy chest. Perv? Proud of it.

It is almost the end of the night, and I am talking dirty to this one girl when I feel a hand, not the girl's, creeping up my chest.

I look down, see a hand on my bare chest, which by now is slowly scratching my chest hair, and I slowly follow the hand, only to see this little punk dude looking at my chest.

My eyes go to the punk's eyes with amusement in my face, the to the girl, whose jaw has dropped,whose eyes are wide open, and back to the punk.

I nod to the punk in a “whazzup dude” fashion, who looks up to me and with respect in his voice, utters:

“Tosi miehennn karrrrva”
(“Real maaaaans hairrrr”)

Reason I love this country #237

Ripe angels

Saw these two girls that I know.

One of them had broken up with her boyfriend three weeks ago, and here she was, single for three weeks, at twenty one.

The other one is an cute looking twenty one year old girl; an innocent smile with a hint of naughtiness in it. Sweet little cutie pie. So sweet. So cute. So innocent looking.

Talking to them, after the initial whazzups,

Me: “Hey, how is single life going?”
Single girl: “Ummmm.. Good?”
Me: “So what do single people do?... I have no idea..” (in my head I am making a funny comment, as I am a bachelor, they know it, being a smartass...)
Cutiepie: (looks to her friend, and then back to me, the angel eyes, and the innocent smile turn into a smile that can be only described as naughty as hell) “We fuck”

Smartass getting bitchslapped..

This story is dedicated to the men out there who think enjoying the company of legal aged younger women is a sin.



The fruit is ripe for the picking. It is waiting to be picked, eaten, devoured and enjoyed.

You continue thinking it is a sin.

The fruit is ripe now. Won't stay ripe too long.

By the time you decide the time is right, the fruit will likely be long way past ripe. Would not say spoiled, but overripe?

To the ones who will call me pervert:

Imagine me shrugging my shoulders and taking a sip from my whiskey.

Green: stop, orange: risky, red:GO!

After gym I went to get a glass of red wine, and sat on some comfy sofa to sip it.

In the table beside me were exchange students, enjoying an evening out.

As it happens, I eavesdropped on this conversation between two girls:
“Tomorrow we are going to the traffic light party”
“What is that?”
“If you are taken you wear a red sticker, if you are single you get a green one, if you say maybe, then you get an orange one”
“Guys too?”
“Guys in green sounds desperate”
“Yes it is desperate”
“Green is for looser guys”

Ahhhh my little ones… Ahhh your mate selection criteria… You amuse me so much.

You are going to a bloody singles party… Isn’t that “desperate” enough?

That is not the point though.

Let’s open the dictionary of the unsaid.

Green guy is desperate.
Available guy is desperate

Translates further:
Single guy is desperate.

Now find an counter statement.

So who is not desperate?

The guy who is not single or does not seem to be single. The guy who is chosen by other women as worthy of their company.

Now we all know that the taken man is always more attractive than the single man, especially if he is taken by an attractive woman. Scientific studies back this up.

In my arrogance, I say more importantly, my experience backs it up…

It takes a lot of spine for a taken man not to succumb to the immense amount of opportunities. Added to these proofs, there are also the men who wear fake wedding rings to get laid more easily.

What happens due to this phenomenon?

Given the same qualities and attractiveness of two guys, these little girls will go for the guy who looking less single.

They will choose to be one of the many notches of the not-openly single guy, than the star of the single one.


Because if he is single, there must be something wrong compared to the not-openly single one.

And anyway, if he is not openly single, he must have women wanting him, and this means he must be attractive to women. This turns to “Oh my God! He is attractive.”

So what does the not-openly single guy do?

Possibly juggling few girls in the same time, getting a few more now and then,
And the “green guys are desperate” girls are choosing to be just another notch on the belt, only to complain a few years later, “there are no good men”, “all men are pigs”, “all men just want sex”…

But, who can blame them? Isn’t attraction illogical?
As for me, I don’t complain.
I either choose to play this game or traffic lights, knowing the unsaid rules,
Or I control the lights.
Who could ever blame me?

Endnote for the clueless out there: If you have problem getting female attention, find two good looking lady friends or relatives, and go out with them. For a few weeks. As long as you don’t kiss ass, watch yourself as you skyrocket.

The easiest way to get laid at any given time is to have an attractive woman – even better, women- showing sexual interest to you in front of other women. In the wrong hands, …oh…, I am smiling now when I imagine this strategy being in the wrong hands….

What language was I speaking?

Am talking to this old biker dude, actually having an entertaining conversation about Germans Finns and the Second World War;… in English, for the record.

About after half an hour of conversing, he stops, looks at me and asks,

“Hey, do you speak English?”
“Yea.. ?”
“Ha, … good”