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An English Tale
It is the year of our Lord 2006 and I have travelled across the waters to shitty old England to study for my degree. I arrive at my accommodation in Hull of all places, once voted the worst city in the UK, and it certainly deserves that crown. Since then it has done okay for itself, somehow going down a few places to no.3 since the emergence of a grand 'floating on water' shopping centre. But no grotesque monument to consumerism can blind us from the daily shit scum walking about that apocalyptic bomb site. Another thing going for it is a big cocoa factory which resides on the outskirts. And when those unforgiving south westerly winds blow in bringing with it the rain, it covers the city in a thick pungeant smell of chocolate. Now you may think this sounds oh so yummy but there were various occassions i heaved my guts until my stomach was sore.
I am greeted at the door by a girl of not bad looking appearance. Her body anyway. Her face was a bit long and she had massive fucking lips. I am taken into the living room where I meet another girl. Again she's a typical english trollop with not an inch of beauty about her but you'd still give her the 'ol poke when the TV's broke. An English fella came down the stairs and as soon as he opened his mouth i knew I would not be able to stand this cunt. He was from North London and every other phrase was 'Man', 'Know what I mean' and 'All I want is respect'. Well I've got your respect right here I say to myself as I delicately arrange my balls about. I'm invited out for the night.
A few hours later and we're ready to paint the town whatever colour comes out of my mouth after fifteen beers. A fella comes through the door. He was of Eastern European origin and the boyfriend of the girl with the long face. Nova would refer to him as a Lithuanian nigger but I just like to shake my head and think 'fucking asshole'. I didn't know that at this point. He seemed an alright guy.
So the early hours come and we're all fairly rode off. Shots a plenty and I'm dancing like a banshee getting funny looks from the no-neck bouncers. I get chatting to a girl who is among our party. She's from Greece and wants to suck my cock. Well I thought as much at the time. But I played it cool like Andy Stitzer from 40 year old virgin, never answering and always asking questions. I was the badass. Oh this European harlot wants my length so much. And I am willing to give it to her for an undisclosed fee. But she seemed reluctant to diddle my penis. I was drunk and thinking it was all my fault I had cried my self to sleep that night wanting a warm moist nipple to suckle on.
But before I did we entered the house with the force of a Swat team singing songs to which we never even knew the words to. Then as Martin Lawrence says in Bad Boys 'shit just got real'. Things were being smashed and people were falling about the place. But I knew instantly it was not for shits and giggles. Things were getting heated upstairs and not in an angry sex kind of way. We stumbled up the stairs and into the room to see the Lithuanian nigger and long face tearing each other new bum holes with mighty short words. The eastern European stormed out of the room and disappeared out of the house leaving long face crying on her bed. Any other time I would most certainly think this a most opportune time for a quick pity fuck but other people were in the house, and plus I'd only known her half a day. So i got tired and went to bed. Then smash, banging and some more crying. After a good half an hour of this shit the girl finally got tired and the noise subsided.
The next day and I walk my fragile body downstairs. Looking outside I see devastation. A computer, keyboard, books, clothes and loads of paper lay strewn along the street. Little did I know that that computer belonged to her boyfriend who was also residing in the house most of the time because he didn't have a job nor any other fixed abode. Sponging cuntrag. Also little did I know that the previous nights rumblings were not some drink fuelled fiasco but an almost daily occurence that had me bordering on kidnapping, murder and dumping of the bodies in the river as I watched them set sail for open ocean. Atleast three to four days of each week were spent in my room listening to shouting, balling and the thumping of fists on walls or faces. Absolute ignorant bastards they were. Plus that lazy Lithuanian nigger never did a hands turn in the house.
So after a couple of months my degree was going okay. Those fuckers were still arguing and London chap was constantly looking for respect. By this time the other girl had fled back home to Leeds because she wasn't keeping up with payments. It was about Christmas time when she had someone come into the house, bust down the locked door to her room and steal a load of shit. Nice girl eh? It was also around the same time when long-face mentioned to me that the Greek girl I had oh so nearly plunged my wet inside a few months back was wanting my number. So numbers were exchanged and we got chatting. Friday came and we were to go on a date. Meet up at 6pm at the coffee house. And that's exactly what we did. Within about half an hour I knew this was a girl who really wasn't on the same wavelength as me. Studying law, her father rich, travelling abroad for a few years she was a picture perfect snob. I felt ashamedly common next to her. She even had the nerve to tell me she wanted a man of stature and strength, but one of kindness with a gentlemanly way about him to support her. What in Christ did I get myself into. But I thought I'd give it a try anyway. So the conversation turned to matters of love and I told her that a few years back I had told a girl that I had loved her, resulting in the girl not speaking to me again. She then laughed at me. At this point I felt like asking to be excused, going to the little boys to powder my nose then returning with a charging elbow to her foredome.
But I wanted to be 'kind' and of a 'gentlemanly' nature so I didn't assault her. Next stop her flat to pick up a few things, like dildos and big red balls for her gaping mouth. I ordered a taxi and it arrived with a few minutes. A taxi pulled up with the number on top.
"Is that ours?" I said grimacingly. She looked at it and gasped in nervous laughter. It wasn't quite a white horse-drawn carriage. Well it was white. I think. Under the mounds of dirt anyway. The only white you could see where the bits were some meddling kids wrote obscene messages indicating to the driver that he should clean his vehicle. Also it was less of a car and more of beat up old van.
"Okay" the Greek girl said awkwardly, hand still placed over her mouth.
Now the girl had on a nice tight dress on that went below her knees, making it just about possible to walk in. But it wasn't really the sort of dress for climbing into the back of a van that was a foot high. After a few attempts entering the van I graciously offered to push her into it. Placing my hands on her hips she immediately jumped in, followed closely by myself. Her face glowing with embarasment. A five minute trip into town and we made it to the restaurant. A lovely little restaurant down an alleyway that was not so well known. It was a continental restaurant and each week they would have a different menu based on a different nationality. Tonight was Indian. Awesome I love Indian food. Grubs up.
"How about wine?" she says.
"Mmmm wine, yeah sure!". Wine I thought. I don't even like wine for fuck sakes. But I'm an hospitable kind of guy. So I go fetch the wine list because some twat overheard my accent and is too racist to hand me it himself. I try it and it's not too bad I have to say. So the food comes out and it's served buffet style. We resettle ourselves on the seats and get tucked in. After a few minutes I'm beginning to think something is odd. Oh you bunch of evil bastards where's the meat?
"So I'm seeing a distinct lack of meat here?"
"Yeah it's all vegetarian"
"Yep vegetarian. Look at the sign"
I look at the sign and she's right. The cow didn't mention that to me even once and she picked the bloody place. Sneaky Greek.
"Oh right okay". What i meant to say is nothing. What I meant to do was throw the curry over her face and tight dress. A curry without meat is like a left handed wank. It shouldn't be done. Bloody sadist. But I came to terms with this failure of a meal. What I wasn't expecting was the huge bill. Of course I had to pay it but I cried a little inside. So with stomachs filled on shitty vegetables we headed to the bar. I had been to the bar before. A nice enough bar, quiet at the times I'd been there. But this was a Friday night and come 10pm little hood-rats and drunken old hard working men started flooding the space beside us. Goes without saying the girl was less than amused. You could tell because she wasn't as chatty as she was in the restaurant. Plus her face was hanging off her. So 11pm arrived and I knew she was ready for heading. So we went uppity and left, not staying for even a third drink. We got the taxi back to hers where I was hoping for a few drinks because the night was so young, but I was expecting too much. After a few choice words we said our goodbyes and she went back to her flat. The taxi had disappeared, it started pissing down and I had no taxi numbers. Fucking fuckity fuck fuck.
An hour it took me to get back to the house that night. Soaking wet and shivering my balls off I opened the door of the house to be met by a wall of screaming Lithuanian niggers and girls with long faces.
As pooh says, "oh bother". I ignore them and they ignore me as I trundle past very slowly, with a look that says I don't give a fuck anymore. I walk uncaringly up the stairs and into my room. I'm exhausted and tired. Drying myself off with a towel I turn on my PC. I load up some porn and tug myself to sleep. A few more months down the line things aren't so good. The degree is a load of balls, housemates are still arguing, Greek girl hasn't got back to me, the place still smells of rotting chocolate on a dead dogs ass and I still haven't got my end away. Come Easter time I quit my degree and arrive back home to a rapturous welcome of quiet contemplation, fresh air, no hassle, familiarity and an accent that doesn't sound like a strangled cat.
So what's the lesson:
DON'T GO TO ENGLAND (Except Liverpool. It's not even English anyway)