too much Raki:
When you walk into some random dude’s room, at 3:00am in the morning and inquire if you could use his toilet, even though your room is located four rooms away, you know you’ve had too much Raki.
If you stroll into his room before he can slam the door in your face and say ‘Who are you, you crazy bitch? Go pee in your own room’, you know you’ve had too much Raki.
When you only find out about this scenario 24 hours later when a colleague retells the story and you don’t remember this for shit, you know you’ve had too much Raki.
You know when you see the hottest person you’ve ever seen in your life/at least in the last like forever, and you describe him as a ‘a gorgeous piece of spunk’ you know your brain is subconsciously thinking about procreation and male seed, and you’ve probably had too much Raki.
[Sidenote: I’m infatuated and it’s so not cool. Because I can’t help staring.
Get your shit together woman. Stand up and reassess your life. Wind it back in. Take control. And like, go to the UK tonight. To be safe.]
You know when you pay R250 – TWO HUNDRED AN FIFTY RONT – for a glass of wine, and like nine catrillion million rands for a vodka redbull – you know you’re in a Muslim country. And you’ve had too much Raki to justify the retarded expense otherwise.
Shit’s crazy but that’s like too crazy. Does anyone else call smoking hot counterparts gorgeous pieces of spunk?
Luckily, luckily I’m as cold as ice. Now.
And I fly to the UK tonight.
So I won’t be trying to use random people’s toilets – holidayers trying to enjoy the fruits of Istanbul - in private – and not involved in a company event, say.
Today has been a mare in light of reputation. With regards to at some stage of the day being on all fours growling like a lion, the random pee thing and the out-of-my-control staring.
And today will retain normaility and dignification and go to grand bazaar and buy random Turkish shit, and the spice market for fresh vanilla pods and no staring or needing to pee and raki. Turkish coffee and dignification.
Totally.
5 comments:
Aaah, Peas! You biscuit!
Company conference in Brazil was much the same - only with too much Caiprinha!
Do you work with the so called 'piece of spunk'?
Think 'Spunk' should be entered into the urban dictionary. Are we talking about 'seriously hunky' therefore 'spunk'? Or stupidly hunky?
Think we need a proper definition Missy.
I know one such 'spunk' specimen. Oh my heart be still ;)
Ahhh...going to chunder in someone elses bathroom is always a great idea, especially if the alcohol has impaired your gross motor targeting skills.
That way you wake up to sparkly fresh porcelain in your abode and have plausable drunken deniability of the whole episode (as long as it wasn't the Spunkmeisters lav you were painting).
Question: You did close the door before you yanked your knickers down??
If not, I'll be looking for the clip on Youtube..hahaha
There's no denying video evidence.
Wait...TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY RONT for a GLASS of wine?!?! I too believe that some people shouldn't be allowed to be within 50 feet of alcohol -
Spunk - hmmm, could work.
saw Cyberdog at Camden yesterday! Thought of you :)
Was also at the premier of Bruno... I'll say no more...
ooooo I think roaring like a lion on all fours is way more embarrassing than trying to use someone else's toilet, but sounds like a fun time, and most people understand that when alcohol is involved these things happen :)
R250 for a glass of wine is a bit steep even for classy european joints, I paid R150 for a small shitty milkshake in Spain and the wine I had was only R75 per glass, went to a club where 1 coca cola = R220, 1 beer also R220, thank god it was closed and we only looked at the price list on the wall hah hah, next time plan to get drunk first and then go on a night that its actually open :P
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