Monday, March 29, 2010

cool story I heard recently

The first thing you should know about this story is it is 100% true. It might seem "not true", but sometimes crazy shit really happens, guys... It concerns a girl whose friend was friends with this girl who Lauren met up with in London when she was there last month.

So this British girl, the friend of a of a... went to Amsterdam for a little vacation with some girlfriends. Out at a bar one night she met a local guy. She was pretty drunk, and by the end of the night she and he were walking in and out of alleyways kissing and groping. He asked her to go home with him but she didn't. She is a good girl. Her accent is lovely. She comes from a good family. They have been rich for thousands of years.

She goes back to the hotel where she is staying with her girlfriends and they give her a little bit of shit about it, and she blushes a little, but feels good, feels a little courageous, independent.

The next night they all go out again and, by chance, she sees the same guy. She is not that attracted to him, she admits to herself, but she gets pretty drunk and they end up talking again. Pretty soon they are fooling around a little bit in the alleyways again, kissing and holding hands in the narrow cobble-stone alleyways of Amsterdam. He asks her to go home with him again, and she refuses again.

So then she goes home to Britain and goes to her nice job, interning for a famous musician or working at a bank. Everything is normal.


Then this weird thing starts to develop on her face, around her mouth. A black rash growth thing. It hurts and is ugly. She goes to the doctor. The doctor immediately recognizes the thing, a fungus, and makes a very grave face. He tells the girl that he has to make a phone call to the police and he leaves her sitting there in his examination room.

The girl is freaking out, thinking what the hell is this fungus on my face and why do the police have to know about it. She maintains a very strong composure though, because she is that kind of British person who never freaks out, whose manners are impeccable. She probably has been to dinner parties with Jude Law or someone like him. That kind of person. Her brother dated Sienna Miller, maybe. She asks the doctor what is going on and he says that it is better if the police explained it. She probably cried a little from the stress, but the tears were beautiful and evoked sympathy.

The police come to question the girl about her fungus and ask her who she has been kissing, who she has been having sex with. She's really scared, but she tells them the story about the guy in the alleyway in Amsterdam. About how she met him at a bar and they had fooled around a little bit in he alleyway behind the bar but nothing too serious. She didn't have intercourse, she said. The police ask if she has his number, the guy, and she does.


She asks the police what is going on and they say that the fungus she has on her face can only be contracted from a "dead body"


The police in Amsterdam find this guy, the guy she had fooled around with, living in a dark basement suite. They had to break down the door. It smelled "terrible". They found four "dead women".

Evidence suggested he had been "fucking" "all of them", the "dead women" that were in his house.

The "dead women" had been tourists who went missing, who he had picked up at bars.

The polite British girl had given this guy a "blowjob", and that is why she had the fungus on her face. The fungus had come from a kind of "corpse mold / residue", which was "lingering" on the "guy's dick" when she gave him a "blowjob"


What do you guys think?

Have you heard this story?

Does it seem "not plausible"?

I guess I don't really believe it...

Pretty lucky that the girl didn't go home with the guy, though, eh?

Friday, March 12, 2010

Netflix Reviews

Friday, March 5, 2010

Hey Guys,

The big push for 2010 shirts on this blog is over now. Did anyone think my last post was funny?

I posted that before the hockey game on Sunday, which feels like years ago (in emotional years). I don't know if you guys watched, but Canada won. I nearly lost consciousness. I talked to every member of my family that day except for one, (mother) who was not in Canada, and probably would not have been interested anyways. My brother was in a large crowd on Granville street, which was probably a pretty central gathering point for yahoos, and he sounded very anxious and bitter; I imagined him half drunk, seeing the Crosby goal, walking quickly and excitedly from his apartment towards the center of the action, and then, getting closer to granville, getting jostled a little, and saying cutting things to strangers who only wanted a high-five. Then going back home. My sister said something like "all of the idiots are out", but she was at home, in her apartment. My dad was at his home. He told me he went onto the deck (my father lives on a steep hill, a quiet street) and screamed. Then there was silence again, I am assuming, and the sound of the creek that goes by his house, and the trees that never seem to stop dripping water. The clouds in that part of the world also make a noise. I laughed as he related it to me, walking in Bed Stuy, and thought about moving back to Canada.

You know what I ran into which is close to my place in Brooklyn? The place where David Lachapelle had his Bloc Party.

Whats been going on, guys, srsly...