She had eyes like a greasy spoon. Looked like a sloppy kisser.
“You fancy round women with loose knickers?”
Terrible lot in life, to be English. Second place empire with no purpose, and no traction. We, and I mean the states; ‘the yanks’ pulled the rug out from under them. We spit in their faces, turned them around, and put a boot to their asses. Don’t worry we can still be friends, we’ll phone tomorrow.
But it’s not my fault they’re so ugly. I blame the language. Start calling everything knobs and knockers and everything will start to look like bits and wollops.
Of course the real trouble is with the queen. In life a mother can be a terrible disadvantage. The old maid stiff and staring, permanent look of reproach on her face. Poor sods, the whole time having to sneak around trying to peek each others bums and twats.
The single most endearing characteristic of fathers is that one day, they die. America is the land of the founding fathers, and it is our great fortune to have watched our fathers die. Old, brittle, and toothless, we put their portraits in a back room and marveling at the strength of youth, go out to hunt cunt and kick each others teeth in.
In the states we have with great success separated the idea of mothers from the idea of women. Which seems rather difficult considering our intended use for them. This allows our boys to grow into men without terrible confusion. They call them ‘poofs’ here. Poor suckers so afraid of fucking their mothers they queer around quashing rods and huffing cake.
I’m not complaining, I make no demands on the state of things. I’m just a shit talking American, poorly educated and with the habit of remembering things how I want instead of how they were. Just stupid enough to get through life without much debate, and just smart enough not to try too hard. What I lack in conscience, strength of character, and a pleasant disposition I more than make up for with my stubbornness and dishonesty.
So what poor unfortunate fuck must I be. Pissed drunk staring at a warm pint of Guinness, standing in a north England pub with my hand on my wallet, a shine on my smile, and red cheek blush at some round faced woman with loose knickers.
“Hell no, but I’ve got a room upstairs and you should
see the view.”
————————————————————————————-
A sample writing from the Guide to Foreign Travel- a reference published by the American Board of Tourism.
8/9/09