My honeys are black, puerto rican, and asian.
I return bearing gifts.
Thankfully I got drunk this week so I have something of dubious worth to share. On Wednesday night, the big guy decided to take the whole group out (around 25 people, no less!) for dinner to an African joint. These physics chaps showed remarkable stamina, and we ended up at one of the other visitors' apartments, and for reasons which were never entirely clear, he had an absolute mountain of grog spread out across the whole bench, including half a bottle of Covoursier. Three of us polished that off, and then a bottle of Brandy. And then I did something that made someone really mad. I can't actually remember anyone ever getting this mad at me in recent memory. And all I did was piss off the balcony. To a large extent I laughed it off, as it was hard to take it seriously when he was falling over periodically, knocking over plastic chairs. Drama queen.
I've been pondering a gentle way to put this, but I'm afraid that the only way to put it is: Brisbane is loaded with hot, hot, bitches. All this summery weather means skirts with floral patterns, strappy little singlety numbers, open-toed shoes, sandy-blonde hair in pony tails... Dear me. However, since it appears that the average age of a first-year is twelve or thirteen, it makes me feel a bit like a lecherous pederast, or perhaps a curmudgeon.
I would now like to pen an open letter to friendly people in bars worldwide. Kind people, thankyou for taking the time to hang out with random drunken people who don't really know anyone, or perhaps have had their associates depart or pass out. Thankyou for telling a range of interesting stories, though they be of dubious authenticity. Thankyou for offering a top-up from your jug of Bundy and Coke, your generosity knows no bounds. When you kick on to the next place, ta for asking if I'd like to come along. You've restored my faith in humanity. Well not really, but I feel marginally less homicidal. I shall attempt to also be nice to strangers in bars in future, at least until I decide once again that most people are idiots.
xo.
Thankfully I got drunk this week so I have something of dubious worth to share. On Wednesday night, the big guy decided to take the whole group out (around 25 people, no less!) for dinner to an African joint. These physics chaps showed remarkable stamina, and we ended up at one of the other visitors' apartments, and for reasons which were never entirely clear, he had an absolute mountain of grog spread out across the whole bench, including half a bottle of Covoursier. Three of us polished that off, and then a bottle of Brandy. And then I did something that made someone really mad. I can't actually remember anyone ever getting this mad at me in recent memory. And all I did was piss off the balcony. To a large extent I laughed it off, as it was hard to take it seriously when he was falling over periodically, knocking over plastic chairs. Drama queen.
I've been pondering a gentle way to put this, but I'm afraid that the only way to put it is: Brisbane is loaded with hot, hot, bitches. All this summery weather means skirts with floral patterns, strappy little singlety numbers, open-toed shoes, sandy-blonde hair in pony tails... Dear me. However, since it appears that the average age of a first-year is twelve or thirteen, it makes me feel a bit like a lecherous pederast, or perhaps a curmudgeon.
I would now like to pen an open letter to friendly people in bars worldwide. Kind people, thankyou for taking the time to hang out with random drunken people who don't really know anyone, or perhaps have had their associates depart or pass out. Thankyou for telling a range of interesting stories, though they be of dubious authenticity. Thankyou for offering a top-up from your jug of Bundy and Coke, your generosity knows no bounds. When you kick on to the next place, ta for asking if I'd like to come along. You've restored my faith in humanity. Well not really, but I feel marginally less homicidal. I shall attempt to also be nice to strangers in bars in future, at least until I decide once again that most people are idiots.
xo.
posted by dr. cok at 10:58 PM
13 Comments:
You being nice to strangers?
Stranger things have happened...nyuck, nyuck... ahhhhh.
I've personally always thought of you as more of a cad...
Hi Mat! When are you coming to visit? We have pumped up the air mattress now, and all reports are highly positive... it also makes an amusing farting noise on both the infill and the deflation processes... if that doesn't get you here, nothing will.
xxx
PS: you're a dirty ol letch, but it's cool, takes all kinds.
Not at all! They were nice to me before I had a chance to glare at them long enough. Perhaps they were wearing glare deflecting sunglasses.
Maybe its just that your testicles were inside your pants this time?
Indeed most people are idiots however if you approach them as a short term idiot proposition they can be genuinely entertaining. Just don't make the mistake that they might be interesting when either they, or you, are sober.
I suggest you let an old proverb decide for you in matters of age / consent: "If there's grass on the wicket, you're right to play cricket." You could also try this one for your court defence.
old enough to bleed, old enough to butcher!
When there old enough to crawl they are in the right position.
Very wrong I know but it does continue with the general wrongness theme.
'they're'
In Queensland the age of consent for vaginal intercourse is 16. The age of consent for anal intercourse with a male or female person is 18 years (Qld Criminal Code sections 208, 215).
Is that really a Hayden saying? It should at least rhyme, rather than just being outright wrong.
And to clarify, I'm mostly talking about hotties at the uni, so they are all 18+. They just look really, really young.
It sure is. Here's another gem:
"15'll get you 20"
i was only 17 at uni.
so was barry, so it's lucky you met him later.
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