Oh my days the sun in S.Africa is destroying my eyes! It is burning my soul and reminding me of the ways I have degraded myself over the last couple of days! Sorry I have not posted in a couple of days, but frankly I have been going rather crazy! England are through and we had to celebrate! And we fucking well did!!
So I went and found my bird! I pulled this New Zealand chick, if I had of known they were so fucking mental maybe I wouldn't have! Me, Butters, Daz and Gaz hit the town. Daz eye was not so swollen any more, my bruising had pretty much gone, Gaz's STD had been taken care of(and he had decided no pubes made him look bigger) and Butter was still red as a fucking beetroot but determined to drink away the pain. He hit it harder than any of us that night. When Butters hits it, it is harder than anyone else I know. After the Krauts went through Gaz walked in the room and shouted "The Krauts are through! Lets go have a fucking barney!" So we each snorted a line of the good stuff and then walked out into the town to what was becoming our local bar. We had been in there drinking all day and when we walked back in, already rowdy as the coke made our brains zing, the barmaid smiled and pulled four pints - didn't even have to ask! Butter's turned round and said, "oi love, get us four jaeger and buzzers will ya" - we then did four jaegerbombs and chased it with our Larger. We stayed in there and drank for about an hour, by time we left I was already feeling it. I was struggling not to fall over and my words were slurring. We then walked into the main street and jumped into this packed bar. It was full of drunken Krauts and raudy Brits. The Krauts on one side singing their shoddy national anthem, and the Brits on the other banging out the English national anthem. I looked at Gaz, he looked back at me - we knew this night was going to be massive. I strolled right up to the bar and said "four sambucca's and four snakebite please love" - the foolish barmaid had no idea what I was on about! I had to explain to her what a snakebite was but still she made a fucking good one and she had lovely tits so I weren't too bothered. Sitting next to me was this right hot lass, she had legs that ran all the way up! Her dress was just short enough to make you think you might get a glimpse of ass if she bent over wrong way. Her tits were bulging out of it an all! Just looking at her my cock was straining against my boxers, I could feel my cum bubbling desperate to squirt on her tits! She was laughing at me struggling to explain what a snakebite is. "Are you laughing at me?" I said, perhaps in a tone a bit more brash than charming.
"Who do you think I am laughing at you fucking pom," she laughed as she revealed her New Zealand accent and got up out her seat and went and sat at a table surrounded by other lads. The table was right in the middle of the bar, the barrier between the English and the Germans. That was a brave fucking place to sit. As she walked off I stared at her ass shake and my balls ached with excitement. Fuck it I was gonna have her that night. I did my shot of sambucca, downed half 1 of the pints then picked up the tray of drinks and slammed it down on the New Zealand table. My friends didn't even notice I had gone, they were already helping themselves to a pitcher the British lads had shared with them and were currently screaming something about "VINDALOO!"
"Help yourselves boys" I arrogantly said as I put the drinks down.
"Oi pom, don't think you're gonna have 'er mate, she is one of us!" said this hench new zealand lad. I could tell they were from New Zealand because they all had fucking rugby shirts on, All Black shirts.
"Don't worry mate, just want to have a good night." I replied and I pulled some Es I'd bought of our favourite hotel Affie out my pocket.
That is the last of the covnersation that I remember. The next thing I remember is a fuzzy image of dancing with the blonde, her fit ass grinding my body, my rock hard cock desperate to bulge out my jeans and she rubbed against it!
Then I remember her shoving her tongue down my throat as we staggered out the club! I remember we stumbled back to mine, pulling the whole way back, I kept grabbing her tits and pulling them out her dress down the street. By the time we were back at the hotel she had one tit hanging out, and her skirt was ridden up so everyone could she her thong. I remember trying to get into my room but I could hear Gaz going at it with some bird inside...the girl seemed to be shouting something in German!
That is all I remember of the night. The next morning I woke up in a hotel room which I can only assume was hers. The sheets were strewn across the room, she was laying on the balcony naked with a fag in her mouth, had she even been to sleep? There was a dildo laying on the pillow next to me, it smelt (not of cum but of shit). there were johnnies everywhere but my cock also was moist and reaked of pussy - I had definitely gone bareback on her at somepoint! My back was sore, she had scratched my back and slapped my ass red. She noticed I was awake and strolled in, she was limping slightly, we must have done some mental shit last night. "You best go mate, my mates got in trouble last night I gotta go help them out"
"Right...ok, what happened with us last night?" I said looking around the torn up, cum splattered room.
"Lets just say you learnt a few new things." She said with a right cheeky little grin.
"Yeah well cheers love I said," and I got up to leave not really sure who had used who, had we just had a mutual fuck - Not sure that exists, not in Britain anyway.
"Oi, you going to leave your new friend here?" She asked whilst waving the shit streaked rampant rabbit at me as I bent over to pick up my shoes. As I bent over I had a sudden realisation, my ass abosultely cained! I now know what happened with that dildo. I looked at her with a grin, what a fucking awesome night!
Next day I rocked back up at the hotel. The lads and some German bird were sitting round a table by the pool drinking cocktails and having a right greesy fry up. "Whose the chick?" I asked, to hungover to care how rude I was being.
"My new German buddy," replied Gaz.
"She's the fucking enemy mate, on Sunday it's us versus them remember!" I responsed in an appalled voice.
"Oh yeah...see ya love" and with that gaz just picked up his fry-up and cocktail and walked round the pool into the hotel. Daz, me and Butters looked at eachother, shrugged and got up as well. We went down our 'local'; they pulled us our usual four largers and we settled in to tell eachother of the night before and watch Brazil versus Portugal. Turns out Butters and Daz had met up with my Bird's New Zealand mates and had a bit of a barney. They were shouting at them asking where me and her were. They just said fuck off and through a glass at them. Big fight broke out, police intervened. Daz and Butters sneak off round the back and the New Zealand lot go proper at it with the coppers.
We could not be more let down by the Brazil game. Glimpses of magic but not what we hoped. We then watched Spain fail to live up to their hype. Same glimpses but know sustained magic. And with that the Group stages were done. I have still got the Argies down as winning the whole thing, although I hope it is us. That bet still looms in the back of my mind. The trouble I will be in if we lose, the glory I will be in if we win. I have to go proper at it for the rest of the tournament, living large everynight, cos fuck it - if we don't win this fucking tournament I might be a fucking dead man.
Predictions for the second round - if your a betting man, which I would encourage, I would go for these. Uruguay 2 South Korea 1, U.S.A 2 Ghana 1, Germany 1 England 1 (we win on fucking penalties!), Argentina 1 Mexico 1, Netherlands 2 Slovakia 0, Brazil 3 Chile 0, Paraguay 2 Japan 1, Spain 2 Portugal 1.
It is going to be fucking awesome!
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Showing posts with label new zealand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new zealand. Show all posts
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Furious Frogs, Irate Itai's and Brilliant Brazilians
Got to say, I am loving the demise of Italy and France! What the bloody hell is going on over there. So Malouda has an argument with the manager before the tournament and gets benched, then Anelka has an argument after the first game and gets sent home, and then just after the second game, Evra has an argument with some fitness coach and the manager - the team back Evra and refuse to train - some Director of Football quits and flies home and the manager reads out a statement from the players saying they will train in the future but hate the French Football Association. Basically, France are fucked and I am loving it. I was talking to this French geeze by the pool earlier, and no joke, he hates Domenech - can you blame them! At lease I still have hope we will beat Slovenia - this guy had given up all hope! Oh well, bye bye Frogs!
Italy n'all! What the hell is going on there! They are shit this year - World Champions four years ago, struggling to get through the group now. Inter Milan are the champions of Europe though sadly none of there players are Italian. The Itai's around the bar tonight looked so miserable. I will not miss them when they have gone home. They really are a total bunch of posers, and they hold on to their birds like anything. The game was frankly dull as shit, so I went over to this right hottie at the bar (I must admit I was on the brink of being three sheets) and I was just chatting away to her - using the ol' British Charm...and this right ponce of an Itai comes strutting over to me and starts giving it the ol' Italian hand right in my face. This little poncy guy with his gucci sunglasses and his slicked back hair, medallian round his beefy neck, who thinks he is hard just cos he bought a t-shirt a couple sizes too small. They ain't muscles mate thats just fat being squeezed...his arms look like butchers sausages. I couldn't be arsed to have a barney with him so I just shrug him off and carry on chatting with the lady at the bar, apparently she is his missus or something cos he got proper annoyed and went for it. Whipped off his gucci shades and went to plant a scottish kiss right into my chest, Zidane style you know. This, taking me by complete surprise, throws me against the bar. The guy put some force into it, must have been the built up frustration from watching his team be a completely dier bunch of wank (I cant relate having struggled through England Vs Algeria). Lucky Daz and Gaz (still itching his way through the days) got straight up and laid in to the guy. The rest of the Itai's, all trying to hide their tears as New Zealand made them look foolish, shot out their chairs and before you can say Bob's your uncle me, Daz and Gaz were sprinting out the joint (although Gaz was running slightly like John Wayne). Bye Bye Itai's, you can fuck off no one likes you here.
So Brazil are on a fucking rampage, I really can't decide between them and Argentina now. I have to say though, I still reckon the Argies will have them. It just seems like one of those things, so doubted before the cup begins, but turn up with this mental manager who is a legend in the country - the best player in the world rises to the occasion and becomes known to be possibly better then his manager, whilst the manager secures himself in the heart of Argentinian fans despite all his previous wrong doings. Disney couldn't fucking write that shit.
Italy n'all! What the hell is going on there! They are shit this year - World Champions four years ago, struggling to get through the group now. Inter Milan are the champions of Europe though sadly none of there players are Italian. The Itai's around the bar tonight looked so miserable. I will not miss them when they have gone home. They really are a total bunch of posers, and they hold on to their birds like anything. The game was frankly dull as shit, so I went over to this right hottie at the bar (I must admit I was on the brink of being three sheets) and I was just chatting away to her - using the ol' British Charm...and this right ponce of an Itai comes strutting over to me and starts giving it the ol' Italian hand right in my face. This little poncy guy with his gucci sunglasses and his slicked back hair, medallian round his beefy neck, who thinks he is hard just cos he bought a t-shirt a couple sizes too small. They ain't muscles mate thats just fat being squeezed...his arms look like butchers sausages. I couldn't be arsed to have a barney with him so I just shrug him off and carry on chatting with the lady at the bar, apparently she is his missus or something cos he got proper annoyed and went for it. Whipped off his gucci shades and went to plant a scottish kiss right into my chest, Zidane style you know. This, taking me by complete surprise, throws me against the bar. The guy put some force into it, must have been the built up frustration from watching his team be a completely dier bunch of wank (I cant relate having struggled through England Vs Algeria). Lucky Daz and Gaz (still itching his way through the days) got straight up and laid in to the guy. The rest of the Itai's, all trying to hide their tears as New Zealand made them look foolish, shot out their chairs and before you can say Bob's your uncle me, Daz and Gaz were sprinting out the joint (although Gaz was running slightly like John Wayne). Bye Bye Itai's, you can fuck off no one likes you here.
So Brazil are on a fucking rampage, I really can't decide between them and Argentina now. I have to say though, I still reckon the Argies will have them. It just seems like one of those things, so doubted before the cup begins, but turn up with this mental manager who is a legend in the country - the best player in the world rises to the occasion and becomes known to be possibly better then his manager, whilst the manager secures himself in the heart of Argentinian fans despite all his previous wrong doings. Disney couldn't fucking write that shit.
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