Saturday, April 01, 2006

name collection

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 clich├ęd ‘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.
Wrong.
Save France, sadly all international shagging was had with Ex S.

14 comments:

Phil said...

There is a very good possibility that you are seriously unwell. No wonder I enjoy reading your blog....he he.
As for shags in different countries I am seriously short of countries but beat you in the diverse number of women shagged in different spots:
SA; Mozambique, Singapore, Switzerland, Zambia, Tanzania - all with different women. Swaziland too if that qualifies.

Peas on Toast said...

Good on you Phil. You are far more exotic and exciting than I'll ever be. ;)

Unwell? How about eccentric, mad, nuts, fruitcake? 'Unwell' seems awfully derogatory for a Friday morning. :)
(Although I can't really back up that I'm seriously well, come to think of it....)

Anonymous said...

Peas>> If your drink was spiked, you may have experienced the following:
1) Total black out of vision while you were still conscious.
2) Loss of memory
3) Feckin serious headache the next day
4) Vomiting, nausea a couple of hours after stopping drinking/getting home.
If you answer yes to all these, same asshole def slipped you a mickey finn.... now who would do that???

Peas on Toast said...

Anon -
1) I can't remember whether that happened due to 2).
2) Check.
3) Check.
4) Can't remember due to 2).

Basically five hours of my life are completely unnacountered for. I could've woken up in Turkey and wouldn't have known how I'd got there.

Who knows. Small Bum told me that I was reading people's bloody palms at the Jolly. Which is odd, since I don't know anything about palms. One guy bought me a drink for basically telling him a whole lot of bullshit about his life. So if I did drink a dodgy beverage, chances are it was from him.

But again, pure speculation. I don't really know.

Jam said...

Love the insult "Fuck Breath"! I will be adding it to my growing list of names to call all the people who are currently pissing me off, particularly my ex.

It's quite possible that someone spiked your drink, although perhaps nicotine normally keeps your head clearer?

Hope you're still sticking to the no smoking story after all this though!

Jam said...

P.S
Are those really the symptoms of a spiked drink? All of the above happens to me when I drink too much sometimes! Perhaps the key here is HOW MUCH you had to drink in relation to how you felt.

Peas on Toast said...

Jam - awesome. We will blow our ex's away with the sassy new fuck breath comment.

As for the symptoms, apparently so. But as I've said, I never get memory loss. Sure things blur, but I have NEVER not been able to remember anything. Besides I only had four drinks over five hours. Had I drunk a bottle cane, sure, then it's no small wonder I would've woken up blind as well. So all this makes me sceptical.
But it will forever remain a mystery.

You'll be pleased to know that I haven't smoked. On Saturday it would've been a week. I'm not gonna lie though: I'd kill for one right now...

Antoine said...

ahh well - at least you can boast you "had" a Frenchman!

*wicked chuckle*

Peas on Toast said...

Antoine - Wrong again my dear. My first boyfriend, A, and I decided to pop each other's cherries, so to speak, in Paris while I was living in France because it seemed the romantic thing to do for first timers like ourselves.

It really was not romantic at all.

However, I did manage to hook myself a French boyfriend for a couple of months, although I never slept with him. Shoulda woulda coulda.

Peas on Toast said...

PS: That first boyfriend, A, was as South African as I am.

Anonymous said...

know any pharmacists?

Had you eaten anything that day you went to jolly?

Just that I've been drugged before. it was bloody awful. I was at night fever and i had 2 vodka and cokes (the second a double) and I couldn't stand up 15 mins later. I never saw anyone put anything in my glass. and i vomited. a lot. blurry memory, but definite! One of my friends drove my car home for me, we had to stop about 4 times on way for me to spew. so I think you'd know for definite if you had been. I'd call it ciggie withdrawal...

unless you really are unwell!

Peas on Toast said...

Anon - Well mystery solved then.

Jam said...

Peas - Happy Friday and I hope your weekend makes up for your tough week!

Daedalus said...

This *pic* broke da blog.