Slowly but surely, I am picking up the smatterings of my name I so eloquently threw around between 4th Avenue Parkhurst and my flat on Wednesday evening, with proverbial bag over my head.
I'm remembering bits and pieces, with the help of Ant and Small Bum, but yet, so much of the night has been told to me. Like how we walked outside to get fresh air, where I was, what I did. I'm starting to think that the four drinks I had couldn't possibly have done this to me. I have never had complete memmory loss or behaved so irrationally or been so paranoid. I'm not ruling out the fact my drink might've been spiked.
But moving on.
Something occurred to me as I idly sipped on a [decidedly average, yet pleasantly inexpensive] glass of Oros in the bath tub last night.
I wish I’d said this to Ex S during our final fight: “Back off fuck breath, I’m over your crap.”
(In all fairness, however, I am the fuck breath after my sterling memory-loss performance on Wednesday. I have usurped Ex S in fuck breathness.)
You don’t wanna be a fuck breath.
This is the ultimate insult. Because calling someone a fuck breath is so much more descriptive than the over-used ‘dick head’ or clichéd ‘asshole.’
Or the very tepid, yet obviously foul-smelling foody ‘garlic’ or ‘anchovy breath.’
What does a ‘fuck’ smell like? OK, don’t answer that, please don’t answer that.
Most of the time, the word ‘fuck’ is most commonly used as a verb. For example “Go and fuck yourself,” or “I have severely fucked up,” or for some lucky people on the receiving end of this, “Wanna fuck?”
Let’s assume in this case the word ‘fuck’ is a noun. It’s a thing. Like a table, vegetable rack, anvil, conjunctivitis.
I’d think that a fuck breath, or a breath tinged with ‘fuck’ smells like a musty old cupboard.
Definitely smells better than it sounds. Which is what I was going for.
create your own visited country map
or check our Venice travel guide
Thanks Chump Style for the map of ‘Where have I been?’ (indicated by inconsistent red blotches over said map.)
The question should be, however, ‘Where have I been laid?’
The countries in which I have been laid are South Africa, Thailand, Mozambique, Tanzania, Belgium, Luxembourg, The Netherlands, Germany, the United States and France.
One would think I had pashed it up with lots of foreign and exotic men.
Save France, sadly all international shagging was had with Ex S.