Sunday, July 26, 2009

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

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