miguelpea
New member
Once upon a time me and Franks Wild Years (fellow NSC’er) and his girlfriend all shared a flat in Amsterdam.
Frank and I used to work for employment agencies just long enough to get a bit of money to buy weed and beer and then would lounge in the flat watching MTV and afternoon films while Frank’s girlfriend went out dutifully to work in a big hotel every day to pay the rent on the flat.
Frank and I were always just about to get a ‘proper job’
This was a small flat with a big sitting room and a tiny box room (which I slept in).
The sitting room was converted using clever sofa positional techniques and various drapes and etc to double as Frank and missy’s bedroom.
One night after a particularly long day, missy had obviously decided that she was sick of us lads doing bugger all day and contributing nothing to the kitty; and went out for a drink after work.
One drink. Two drinks. Who knows how many? Who knows what?
Many hours later than expected, when Frank and I heard the key turning in the lock we knew something was afoot.
In she comes, with the glassiest eyes I’ve ever really seen.
Staggers through the door and into the sitting room.
Completely fails to observe Frank and I sat on the sofa.
In about 3 seconds flat gets all her kit off.
Falls over a chair and crashes half onto the bed with her naked arse sticking up in the air.
(a bit like those baboons with the purple bits)
String hangs from her exposed minge.
Farts.
Starts to snore.
All in about 15 seconds.
As a veteran of making a tit out of myself through drinking I have always taken solace from this experience.
We are not alone.
Frank and I used to work for employment agencies just long enough to get a bit of money to buy weed and beer and then would lounge in the flat watching MTV and afternoon films while Frank’s girlfriend went out dutifully to work in a big hotel every day to pay the rent on the flat.
Frank and I were always just about to get a ‘proper job’
This was a small flat with a big sitting room and a tiny box room (which I slept in).
The sitting room was converted using clever sofa positional techniques and various drapes and etc to double as Frank and missy’s bedroom.
One night after a particularly long day, missy had obviously decided that she was sick of us lads doing bugger all day and contributing nothing to the kitty; and went out for a drink after work.
One drink. Two drinks. Who knows how many? Who knows what?
Many hours later than expected, when Frank and I heard the key turning in the lock we knew something was afoot.
In she comes, with the glassiest eyes I’ve ever really seen.
Staggers through the door and into the sitting room.
Completely fails to observe Frank and I sat on the sofa.
In about 3 seconds flat gets all her kit off.
Falls over a chair and crashes half onto the bed with her naked arse sticking up in the air.
(a bit like those baboons with the purple bits)
String hangs from her exposed minge.
Farts.
Starts to snore.
All in about 15 seconds.
As a veteran of making a tit out of myself through drinking I have always taken solace from this experience.
We are not alone.
