Goodbye Dutch Girl
Half of my prediction has been confirmed.
It will be indeed a sausage fest with two guys moving into my quad, according to the housekeeping staff that dropped by this morning. I hope the other half doesn't come true that they are assholes, like those Americans downstairs who recently moved out (Thank God. They smoke outside downstairs and it wafts up into our windows. They once even asked my German roommate if he liked Jews!) Could my German roommate have said the same about me when I moved in? Of course not. I was the equalizing factor, and he sorely needed me. Without me to back him up, he would've been bullied by three girls, among them a Latina and a Honger.
The Dutch girl next door is leaving today, so yesterday, we went to see her on her last trip to Wreck Beach, a clothing-optional beach (i.e. nudism is legal). Usually, some rather unattractive people and men exercise their right to go around like they're in the Garden of Eden. One interesting sight was this buff guy in the buff parading himself in front of some indifferent girls. How pathetic. What do these testosterone-fueled guys think they're trying to accomplish with their, "Pardon me ladies, I'm just passing by...very slowly...and naked..."? Yes, of course you've worked hard at forging a rock-hard, well-cut body, but if you want girls, you'd better work on other things - such as your EGO!!
Despite that, unlike my undergrad days, the clothing optional population has vastly improved. Granted, we still get mostly men and fat old people to whom gravity was unkind, but now there's sexier fare from countries where the practice of tanning au naturel is widely acceptable (i.e. Latin America), because getting a complete tan is much more important than some bullshit prudish family moral values (Usually with a certain religion mixed in. I'm not going to say which religion, but let's just say that it rhymes with "fristian").
After that, my quad ended up hosting her farewell party. In line with the Dutch theme, the Dutch girl decided that the main fare would be crepes - entree crepes for dinner and sweet crepes for dessert. The food and liquor provisions ran out fast, so being the only one with a vehicle and sober, I volunteered to go on a liquor and grocery run. Among the party's guests, these two lovely Scottish lasses decided to tag along. The lovelier of the two was only here on a short visit from Scotland (go figure).
The lasses were rather cheery, and I doubt that it was the effect of alcohol but rather it is their nature. To express their cheeriness, they decided to sing Scottish and Gaelic folk songs. I managed to recognize some of the songs from my frequent trips to The Blarney Stone, so I sang along and threw in my own Scottish accent, which I learned from my Scottish friends and from watching Groundskeeper Willy from The Simpsons. Hey, it's not everyday that I have a pair of lovely Scottish birds in my backseat singing in the mirth of their heritage, and it is even less often that I find people willing to accompany me in singing "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)".
The party was a blast, and I was once more re-enlightened as to how many people can fit in my quad. For good measure, someone brought in a Twister set so we had our own little Twister tournament. Aftwerwards, someone presented the Dutch girl with a large Canadian flag, and we all signed it, regardless of whether it is considered defacing the flag or that doing so may be unpatriotic or illegal.
I signed the flag, accompanied by a picture of a squid and a chicken. There's a funny story behind that. One day, me and my German roommate went with her to Stepho's, a popular Greek restaurant in the middle of Vancouver's gay district. After an entertaining display of a flaming leather-clad couple whipping each other out in the sidewalk, accompanied by a delicious calamari, she exclaimed, "That's the best chicken I've ever had!" to which we cracked up. I mean, do chickens in the Netherlands have tentacles? What kind of problem are they having with nuclear waste there!?
That story aside, the party was soon over and I just saw her off this afternoon. It was a sad farewell, and as you can see, there were many fond memories to be had. I'm sure that she'll bring home a life-enriching experience, and has learned a lot of new things during her stay here that she couldn't learn back home.
Such as telling a squid and a chicken apart.
It will be indeed a sausage fest with two guys moving into my quad, according to the housekeeping staff that dropped by this morning. I hope the other half doesn't come true that they are assholes, like those Americans downstairs who recently moved out (Thank God. They smoke outside downstairs and it wafts up into our windows. They once even asked my German roommate if he liked Jews!) Could my German roommate have said the same about me when I moved in? Of course not. I was the equalizing factor, and he sorely needed me. Without me to back him up, he would've been bullied by three girls, among them a Latina and a Honger.
The Dutch girl next door is leaving today, so yesterday, we went to see her on her last trip to Wreck Beach, a clothing-optional beach (i.e. nudism is legal). Usually, some rather unattractive people and men exercise their right to go around like they're in the Garden of Eden. One interesting sight was this buff guy in the buff parading himself in front of some indifferent girls. How pathetic. What do these testosterone-fueled guys think they're trying to accomplish with their, "Pardon me ladies, I'm just passing by...very slowly...and naked..."? Yes, of course you've worked hard at forging a rock-hard, well-cut body, but if you want girls, you'd better work on other things - such as your EGO!!
Despite that, unlike my undergrad days, the clothing optional population has vastly improved. Granted, we still get mostly men and fat old people to whom gravity was unkind, but now there's sexier fare from countries where the practice of tanning au naturel is widely acceptable (i.e. Latin America), because getting a complete tan is much more important than some bullshit prudish family moral values (Usually with a certain religion mixed in. I'm not going to say which religion, but let's just say that it rhymes with "fristian").
After that, my quad ended up hosting her farewell party. In line with the Dutch theme, the Dutch girl decided that the main fare would be crepes - entree crepes for dinner and sweet crepes for dessert. The food and liquor provisions ran out fast, so being the only one with a vehicle and sober, I volunteered to go on a liquor and grocery run. Among the party's guests, these two lovely Scottish lasses decided to tag along. The lovelier of the two was only here on a short visit from Scotland (go figure).
The lasses were rather cheery, and I doubt that it was the effect of alcohol but rather it is their nature. To express their cheeriness, they decided to sing Scottish and Gaelic folk songs. I managed to recognize some of the songs from my frequent trips to The Blarney Stone, so I sang along and threw in my own Scottish accent, which I learned from my Scottish friends and from watching Groundskeeper Willy from The Simpsons. Hey, it's not everyday that I have a pair of lovely Scottish birds in my backseat singing in the mirth of their heritage, and it is even less often that I find people willing to accompany me in singing "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)".
The party was a blast, and I was once more re-enlightened as to how many people can fit in my quad. For good measure, someone brought in a Twister set so we had our own little Twister tournament. Aftwerwards, someone presented the Dutch girl with a large Canadian flag, and we all signed it, regardless of whether it is considered defacing the flag or that doing so may be unpatriotic or illegal.
I signed the flag, accompanied by a picture of a squid and a chicken. There's a funny story behind that. One day, me and my German roommate went with her to Stepho's, a popular Greek restaurant in the middle of Vancouver's gay district. After an entertaining display of a flaming leather-clad couple whipping each other out in the sidewalk, accompanied by a delicious calamari, she exclaimed, "That's the best chicken I've ever had!" to which we cracked up. I mean, do chickens in the Netherlands have tentacles? What kind of problem are they having with nuclear waste there!?
That story aside, the party was soon over and I just saw her off this afternoon. It was a sad farewell, and as you can see, there were many fond memories to be had. I'm sure that she'll bring home a life-enriching experience, and has learned a lot of new things during her stay here that she couldn't learn back home.
Such as telling a squid and a chicken apart.
All kneel before the Twister Queen!
Unequalled in the Bending of Limbs in Exotic Positions!
(sounds dirty, heheh)
posted by Cosmic Ocean at 5:12 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home