Some of you may remember my acerbic friend DJ Slumpbuster from the Stalkerific post back in March. I get so jazzed by his quick wit and desert dry humor. He recently fled the country for a month to study abroad law school style in London. I missed his presence and coaxed him into sending me entertaining email updates anytime his prententious name appeared on my gchat list. I will include two here for you followers to read because sharing is caring. This kid needs to write a book, a blog, anything. Sheer genius (minus his blatant disregard for spelling and syntax- I have already offered to edit).
Email #1: british blokes, london lasses, and other keen observations
british dudes are mad stylish. they have suits with cufflinks and pocketcheifs. if they don't already make skinny suit pants, i'm going to design them. they would blow up over here. british girls are conservative/haughty, yet i'm strangely attracted to them. most remind me of my 5th grade crush. real cute but need to spend some serious time in the orthodontists office. i hate public displays of affection. i see it every morning as i'm boarding my train. if i have to listen to one more tearful i'll miss you speech, someone is going to get kicked in the teeth. have some respect for the unloveable losers.
Email #2: british broke
flight to madrid, awful. i threw up into two of those puke bags, that's right two. Madrid was much better than the flight. it is hot as fuck. the women are dope as fuck. yet, for some reason they do not want pale, sweaty americans talking to them at a club. although, i am surprised that none of them fell for my pick up line, "ola, hablas ingles?" because i am pretty sure they hablas. the club was funny, no other way to describe it. you walked into the club and people are getting absolutely juiced when grease lightning comes on (myself included). left club and went to a pub, a pub that played 50s and 60s music. saw the tallest girl in spain in this pub. i pinched a nerve in my neck when i made eye contact with her. during the day we drank mad sangria and walked around art museums either pretending to be interested, or pretend that we actually understood art. i swear the modern art museum was just a garage sale they charged you six euros to get into. my favorite part about traveling to countries that don't speak english is expecting everyone to to speak english. i am trying to get you a british bloke, but they don't believe me when i swear to them it is you that is interested in them and not me. i should probably leave the gay district.
I kept DJ SB's words and capitalization neglect intact while only fixing the spelling errors that were driving me mad. Ladies, if you are into boys with stellar humor and the ability to laugh at themselves, see me for his personal info. I want to help him bust out of this current slump (I'm that good of a friend) and he has too much pride to accept my charity pity sex offer.
No comments:
Post a Comment