Middle easterner hits on fat chick... Gets rejected by a wave of a hand...
Immediately:
“You are RACIST” (spoken like “raschist”)
Half an hour must still pass till they leave together, after she announces “I am noooot racist”
The runner up:
Foreign guy hits on girl, gets rejected, and shouts back:
“FUCK YOU!”..
The girls eyes light up, in her eyes she already shagged him... They leave together...
Legendary.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Proud Member of Pub Garbage
She was good looking. She knew it. She was dressed to kill. And she was in the hipster bar talking with my friend.
As it happens I enter the conversation, and small talk comes out.
Oh she really does not like this bar. The people are strange. The music is strange. The bar is strange.
“Well” I ask, “where do you hang out?”
She lifts her nose up and tells me she hangs out at the -name- Club.
Oh, that club is the meat market of the town. I start smiling.
Then her nose goes even up and she proudly declares she actually spends more time in the Cellar Bar.
Now I am thinking to myself, “Cellar”... “Hell there must be a new place in town”
A few days later I remembered the conversation, and checked the cellar.
Turns out the “Cellar” is the second name for the cheapest bar in downtown, a dumpster, a shithole, (ok, has cheap shots... from sober to drunk in ten minutes, under ten euros is possible), a bar in the same category as the one in From Dusk Till Dawn, without the vampires, and without the class, without the sexy dancer to the sexy music.
Ah, my little girl, you are so confused.
So proud of being garbage...
So proud of being the booty call of a rich boy... (that info was also revealed, possibly to trigger the competitive side in me)
Education gone wrong...
As it happens I enter the conversation, and small talk comes out.
Oh she really does not like this bar. The people are strange. The music is strange. The bar is strange.
“Well” I ask, “where do you hang out?”
She lifts her nose up and tells me she hangs out at the -name- Club.
Oh, that club is the meat market of the town. I start smiling.
Then her nose goes even up and she proudly declares she actually spends more time in the Cellar Bar.
Now I am thinking to myself, “Cellar”... “Hell there must be a new place in town”
A few days later I remembered the conversation, and checked the cellar.
Turns out the “Cellar” is the second name for the cheapest bar in downtown, a dumpster, a shithole, (ok, has cheap shots... from sober to drunk in ten minutes, under ten euros is possible), a bar in the same category as the one in From Dusk Till Dawn, without the vampires, and without the class, without the sexy dancer to the sexy music.
Ah, my little girl, you are so confused.
So proud of being garbage...
So proud of being the booty call of a rich boy... (that info was also revealed, possibly to trigger the competitive side in me)
Education gone wrong...
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
That is damn bad luck
After enjoying a nice long leak, I opened the toilet door just to witness some girl shouting “Haista vittu” (Fuck off) to a guys face.
The poor boy just left with his tail between his leg, only to open up an opportunity for me to ease my curiosity.
Me: “Wow that was harsh... What did he do to deserve that?”
Her: “Nothing... “
Me: “What do you mean nothing?”
Her: “He said nothing bad...”
Me: “Wow.. .So why the “fuck off”?”
Her: “He was cute. But I am angry. Am waiting here fifteen minutes”
Just when she finishes that last sentence, the toilet door opens, and a little hipster boy exits the ladies loo together with a warpig, both tidying their hair.
That is damn bad luck. The cute boy could not have known he is getting a “fuck off” from a cute girl because of some hipster fucking a warpig... Now he is drinking his sorrows away, having an existential conflict, trying to understand why he is such a loser... Not knowing the reason was an irrelevant happening in the ladies' room...
I mean come on...
At least if the hipster was fucking some cute young perky hipster girl...
At least then there would be some point to it...
The poor boy just left with his tail between his leg, only to open up an opportunity for me to ease my curiosity.
Me: “Wow that was harsh... What did he do to deserve that?”
Her: “Nothing... “
Me: “What do you mean nothing?”
Her: “He said nothing bad...”
Me: “Wow.. .So why the “fuck off”?”
Her: “He was cute. But I am angry. Am waiting here fifteen minutes”
Just when she finishes that last sentence, the toilet door opens, and a little hipster boy exits the ladies loo together with a warpig, both tidying their hair.
That is damn bad luck. The cute boy could not have known he is getting a “fuck off” from a cute girl because of some hipster fucking a warpig... Now he is drinking his sorrows away, having an existential conflict, trying to understand why he is such a loser... Not knowing the reason was an irrelevant happening in the ladies' room...
I mean come on...
At least if the hipster was fucking some cute young perky hipster girl...
At least then there would be some point to it...
Germans are nice... Very nice
Standing with my brother, enjoying the views, chatting the night away,
And of course some dude gets curious cause he has no idea of what language his ears are picking up...
Him:“Where are you from?”
Me: “Germany”
Him: “Ha?”
Brother: “Mars”
Him: “Fuck.. What?”
Brother: “Mars, man, mars”
Him: “You are not from mars”
Me: “No, we are from germany”
Him: “No. You fuckers are finnish. You are too much of assholes to be german... You fucking assholes” and walks away...
Even I do not see finnish guys in such a bad light, damn you people have some image of yourselves...
Cheers!
And of course some dude gets curious cause he has no idea of what language his ears are picking up...
Him:“Where are you from?”
Me: “Germany”
Him: “Ha?”
Brother: “Mars”
Him: “Fuck.. What?”
Brother: “Mars, man, mars”
Him: “You are not from mars”
Me: “No, we are from germany”
Him: “No. You fuckers are finnish. You are too much of assholes to be german... You fucking assholes” and walks away...
Even I do not see finnish guys in such a bad light, damn you people have some image of yourselves...
Cheers!
The phone call
On my way home, decided to go to this one new age rock bar… Full of youngsters with the tight jeans. Jeans, which are hanging from the butt as if they crapped their pants…
I meet this friend of mine, and we are hanging by the dancefloor, scanning the environment.
He tells me “these three girls came here definitely for the lay”… I check the girls out.
The one gothic looking chick is all over a James Dean type.
Tonsils removal surgery in action.. It was a beautiful sight, two people in full passion, not caring about their surroundings, kissing as if their lips are on fire…
It was a beautiful sight,
Till,
My friend sees a light on the ground, looks down, and sees a phone ringing on the ground, picks it up, asks people about it, and the smooching gothic girl takes the phone…
At the moment my friend is telling me “Check this out. It was a Mikko calling”, the expression on the girls face was worth seeing. Suddenly she came back to earth, shame and guilt on her face…
That view now, was not only beautiful, it was excellent.
…
And to show how far guilt and shame and morals go, she was all over the Dean-Dude five minutes later.
I meet this friend of mine, and we are hanging by the dancefloor, scanning the environment.
He tells me “these three girls came here definitely for the lay”… I check the girls out.
The one gothic looking chick is all over a James Dean type.
Tonsils removal surgery in action.. It was a beautiful sight, two people in full passion, not caring about their surroundings, kissing as if their lips are on fire…
It was a beautiful sight,
Till,
My friend sees a light on the ground, looks down, and sees a phone ringing on the ground, picks it up, asks people about it, and the smooching gothic girl takes the phone…
At the moment my friend is telling me “Check this out. It was a Mikko calling”, the expression on the girls face was worth seeing. Suddenly she came back to earth, shame and guilt on her face…
That view now, was not only beautiful, it was excellent.
…
And to show how far guilt and shame and morals go, she was all over the Dean-Dude five minutes later.
Monday, August 10, 2009
The best pick up line
“Ola... I am Markho... I am sp-hanish... I am an exchange stud-dentt... You are beautif-hul, no?”
Said by a generic spanish to a finnish girl who had not noticed the guy before.
Two seconds delivery of the line, and the spanish dude got to pick up the goo, the molten leftovers of the girl, from the floor and take it home.
Years of observations compel me to do a public service: if you are a spanish guy coming to finland, be sure to mention spain at every opportunity.
This goes as well for french, americans, brits, scots, especially aussies. Use this info, and feel free to abuse it.
Italians need to exercise caution in making sure of coming across as a slimey bastard, which will keep the congruence with the mental image in the statistical majority of the ladies.
Oh and, if you are not from these countries, but think you can pull it off, you have my blessings. Go my young one, go. May the force be with ya.
I dedicate this post to S., the cigar smoker.
Bro, never listen to what they say. Trust your own eyes.
A reason of not listening being necessary is that ladies, as a population, have a need to create the illusion of supply being scarce.
Promise to write a long post about this once I can tie it to a story.
Said by a generic spanish to a finnish girl who had not noticed the guy before.
Two seconds delivery of the line, and the spanish dude got to pick up the goo, the molten leftovers of the girl, from the floor and take it home.
Years of observations compel me to do a public service: if you are a spanish guy coming to finland, be sure to mention spain at every opportunity.
This goes as well for french, americans, brits, scots, especially aussies. Use this info, and feel free to abuse it.
Italians need to exercise caution in making sure of coming across as a slimey bastard, which will keep the congruence with the mental image in the statistical majority of the ladies.
Oh and, if you are not from these countries, but think you can pull it off, you have my blessings. Go my young one, go. May the force be with ya.
I dedicate this post to S., the cigar smoker.
Bro, never listen to what they say. Trust your own eyes.
A reason of not listening being necessary is that ladies, as a population, have a need to create the illusion of supply being scarce.
Promise to write a long post about this once I can tie it to a story.
Kissing Italy
It is Saturday.
It is night.
We are out.
Sober.
Unlike our surroundings.
The energizer bunny of the group has been dancing on the floor for the last two hours, shoulder to the left, butt to the right, then reverse direction.
There is this girl, whose friends I know,
Watching her grind a Finn, I asked the girl that I know, “I did not know she is single”… For me to ask that question, that grind must be a bit more of an evolved grind, I must add.
“No no no… She is engaged”
“hmm”
After grinding the Finn, I spot her grinding an African dude… Long time…
After the long time, the lady is now grinding a Middle Easterner dude…
Interesting…
A few other grind partners later, I spot her grinding the energizer bunny… “Damn” I think to myself…
She dances, grinds, rubs her ass against his crotch..
Turns around,
Grabs the gum the Italian has been chewing all night long, puts it in her mouth and happily enjoys the pleasure of chewing on a gum with a substantial amount italian spit on it.
That view was still ok, until started thinking about element number 37 in the picture. The fiancée.
The fiancée, who will at the end of the night welcome this drunk slut (oh, did I just say that?) to a warm and welcoming home, and kiss her a passionate kiss, take her into his arms, and give her a passionate goodnight kiss, after some long (or short) lovemaking, involving a lot of kissing,
Having no clue that that all the time he is ingesting, swallowing, licking and tasting the spit of Energito Bunnito from Italy.
Food poisoning is something I prefer to this disgust.
It is night.
We are out.
Sober.
Unlike our surroundings.
The energizer bunny of the group has been dancing on the floor for the last two hours, shoulder to the left, butt to the right, then reverse direction.
There is this girl, whose friends I know,
Watching her grind a Finn, I asked the girl that I know, “I did not know she is single”… For me to ask that question, that grind must be a bit more of an evolved grind, I must add.
“No no no… She is engaged”
“hmm”
After grinding the Finn, I spot her grinding an African dude… Long time…
After the long time, the lady is now grinding a Middle Easterner dude…
Interesting…
A few other grind partners later, I spot her grinding the energizer bunny… “Damn” I think to myself…
She dances, grinds, rubs her ass against his crotch..
Turns around,
Grabs the gum the Italian has been chewing all night long, puts it in her mouth and happily enjoys the pleasure of chewing on a gum with a substantial amount italian spit on it.
That view was still ok, until started thinking about element number 37 in the picture. The fiancée.
The fiancée, who will at the end of the night welcome this drunk slut (oh, did I just say that?) to a warm and welcoming home, and kiss her a passionate kiss, take her into his arms, and give her a passionate goodnight kiss, after some long (or short) lovemaking, involving a lot of kissing,
Having no clue that that all the time he is ingesting, swallowing, licking and tasting the spit of Energito Bunnito from Italy.
Food poisoning is something I prefer to this disgust.
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