Those old enough to remember JFK’s trip to Berlin during the height of the Cold War will never forget his famous and defiant line: ” ich bin ein Berliner.” For years there was a claim the young President had made a horrible gaffe, that what he said actually translated as: “I am a jelly donut.” His words sparked the great jelly donut arms race, with both East and West competing for years to make the sweetest and largest “berliner”. The Soviet Union finally collapsed under the weight of its hugely subsidized, and inefficient, military pastry industrial complex. In the pastry war the French took the lead for the West, turning out every more delicious, and caloric, concoctions capable of bringing entire Soviet divisions to their knees.
This really isn’t true. But it sure makes a wonderful story. What Kennedy said had nothing to do with donuts… And I made up the pastry war. The French never win at anything…
This post is just a dumb, juvenile excuse to post pictures of good looking naked frauleins from Germany (at least according to their Flickr tags). These girls may be sugary sweet, but no one would ever accuse them of being jelly donuts!
Only Flickr members with safe search OFF will see these photos. Join Flickr free.
GLAZED, CHOCOLATE,
POWDER,
JELLY, SWEDISH,
CINNAMON,
TWIST, BEAR CLAW,
BOSTON CREME,
CUSTARD, POLISH,
BEIGNET,
BLUEBERRY CAKE
The MTA tells you: “Sometimes you have to go backward to go forward”
Possible meanings for this:
1. Some trains move so incredibly slow that they go in reverse and take you back in time. (For example, I was on the F train and it began chugging along so slowly that my head started to spin and suddenly I found myself on the set of Breakin 2)
2. The MTA will require you to have to go back at least 10 stations before being able to go forward one.
3. The MTA hates you.
Tuesday ended on a high note and Wednesday started with a ton of promise. The day ended poorly, but as you continue to read, you will find that it was mostly my fault. Here’s the deal…
Tuesday night The Phone Sex Operator (P.S.O.) came over for dinner. She moved into a new house last weekend and it was stressful on her. She arrived about 15 minutes after I got home and I was putting the finishing touches on some Cuban roast pork, black beans and lime rice. I had a cold Corona waiting for her when she walked in the door and after a nice hello kiss, she hung out with Drama Queen (D.Q.) for a few minutes talking about this and that.
After dinner (which she said she really enjoyed) we all chilled on the couch watching American Idol and soon it was time for D.Q. to go to bed. She said good night and P.S.O. and I finally spent some much-needed quality time alone. It was really nice to snuggle with her on the couch. When it was time for her to leave I asked her what time I needed to be at her place in the morning and she told me a little after eight.
I offered to help P.S.O. by staying at her house Wednesday morning to wait for Time Warner. She had a short week at work since Monday was a holiday and she was taking Friday off to run me to and from some minor surgery I’m having. I knew that my waiting for the cable guy would help her out and I was happy to do it.
I woke up early Wednesday morning in a great mood. I was still on a high from our time together last night and I was looking forward to seeing her, if even for a few minutes. After making sure D.Q. was up and getting ready for school, I hopped in my car and headed down the Thruway. I rolled into Tim Horton’s near her house and grabbed some coffee just the way she likes it. So far so good.
When I arrived, she was in the bathroom drying her hair and getting ready for work, so I headed into the living room and was looking around a bit. The last time I saw the house a lot of things were in boxes. She now had pictures and knick-knacks on the shelves and I was checking them out.
Remember at the beginning I mentioned that I was a complete a-hole? Well, here it comes…
She came out into the living room and I kissed her and asked her how much flexibility she had in the time she had to leave for work and what time she thought the Time Warner guy would really show up. She told me to behave and that she really needed to get ready to leave.
She walked over to the bookshelf and was showing me some pictures of her family and explaining the significance of each one and I put my hand on her back. As I rubbed her back I noticed that she had no bra on and I made a comment about “The twins not being strapped in.” She wasn’t thrilled at that comment (nor should she have been) and continued to show me things. That wasn’t the only crappy thing I said that morning and it was far from one of my better moments.
We looked at a book of pictures from when her daughter was a baby and I did enjoy looking at her things and I do want to know more about her and her family and about what’s important to her. I certainly didn’t show it on Wednesday morning, but I am interested and I do care. I was just a complete douche and an utter tool at that moment.
I ruined her morning and I really hurt her. I wasn’t intending to hurt her, but I did. When she left the house I knew she was upset and that made me feel like crap. I sat on the couch trying to read the book I brought, but it was slow going. I kept beating myself up for what I had done, so I whipped out my BlackBerry to send an e-mail apologizing. We traded a few more back and forth over the next couple hours and I told her that her feelings are very important to me and that I didn’t want to add to the stresses and pressures of her life, but rather I wanted to be an enhancement to her life.
She e-mailed back that she loved me but that she was hurt and that this would not be THE defining moment in our relationship but rather A defining moment. We traded a couple more e-mails that morning and the long and the short of it is that I am apparently going to do a strip tease for her at some point in the near future to Crazy Bitch by Buckcherry. I guess I need to get practicing! I think that’s the least I can do to make up for hurting her.
The Time Warner guy came and went and I headed to work to deal with a myriad of stresses there. After work I went home to Drama Queen.
D.Q. has a school orchestra concert tonight and needs to have black pants and a white shirt (or a black dress) to wear for it. She doesn’t have anything that fits her, so last night we went out to get her something. The long and short of it is that she was being extremely snotty and rude. After trying on a couple dresses, I handed her a pair of black pants and a white shirt. She started to get really snotty about them and I told her that if the ‘tude continued that we would just go without getting anything and that she would not play in the concert, which BTW accounts for 25% of her grade. I did tell her that if she doesn’t play that she was going to go watch and that I didn’t care how embarrassed she was.
She got snotty again and I walked out of the store. I sent the teacher (and her counselor) an e-mail explaining the situation. D.Q. is pissed at me and told me that she wants to go live with someone else. She’s also been telling me that she hates me, to which I respond, “Get in line”.
Ironically enough, as I was typing the last paragraph, the orchestra teacher called me to tell me that he wants her to come play and to wear whatever she can. He said that the orchestra is a team thing and it’s almost exactly what P.S.O. told me in her e-mail to me a half hour ago. I love that she can tell me when I’m wrong and isn’t afraid to share her opinion on things. I totally need that.
Yesterday was a crappy day, but today seems to be getting off to a better start. I didn’t sleep well last night but I heard from P.S.O. this morning and she ended the e-mail with “xoxox” so I’m guessing that she still loves me. I continue to feel crappy about the way I treated her yesterday and I’m not going to forget it, but I won’t dwell on it. D.Q. is going to play her concert tonight and that’s probably a good thing.
I’m heading to Tim’s for some coffee (and maybe a few Timbits). I also think that I’ll throw on Sunny Hours by Long Beach Dub All-Stars. That always seems to make me feel better. Tomorrow will be a good day. I have my surgery and I get to spend the day with P.S.O. I promise that there will be a very good story about the surgery down the road. A really good story. Now if I could just find the rewind button…
In an act of sheer desperation. I am selling my ass to buy youtube views. Since my cleavage not that spectacular. I am doing a cheescake video in my tights. I show my ass at its most spankable. Anything for art and commerce, right? I try to make my scandalous outfit seem functional by showing you the innate femininity of my sexy ass and thighs.
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I am now in Venice. So much has happened since I’ve last written. I’ll do my best to replay.
INTERLAKEN.
Hooters ended up being the place that we frequented most. Fuckin’ Hooters. The girls, well, let’s just say that they were sub-par. So much has happened I’m not sure of the exact order-of-events, but all I know is we skied in The Alps. THE FUCKING ALPS!
GOING OUT.
After much debate, well, argument, between Nicole and I she agreed to go out. I heard about this club called Metro, and had my heart set on going there. I needed to dance, god damn it. We get all gussied up (yeah, I said it) and head out. “You on the guest list? No? You can’t come in.” Fucking bullshit. I run into some American girls and an Aussie guy and ask of their plans. We go on our way to a “rock” bar called High Life. It was kinda dead at first. And a huge sausage-fest. And then, out of the blue, the AGs (American Girls/Aussie Guy) walk in! I was happy ‘cause there was one girl, whose name escapes me at the moment, that I had my eye on. She had nice eyebrows. And glasses. They came and sat down next to us. The AGs, not the eyebrows. The girls were from Boston; in Switzerland on a school trip. The Aussie Guy, Andy, was on vacation with his mom. Cute. Andy and I immediately hit it off. He reminded me a lot of Efren. We talked music (he loves Coltraine), movies, family, spirituality, life…I really felt like he could, under proper circumstances, be a really good friend. He liked ‘Brows too. And she liked him. The girls left, then we left. Andy and I parted ways and had a nice, friendly kiss. He went to fuck ‘Brows. I was jealous.
TO SKI THE ALPS.
The second time I have been skiing my whole life and it was on an Alp. I LOVE LIFE. We bundled up and took a train to the top of the mountain. BEAUTY IS HERE. Began to ski down the alleged “beginner” slope. Bullshit. It was seriously the equivalent of a Black Diamond in the States. It was Nicole’s first time ever skiing and she was rippin’ it up. Cass was moving at a snail’s pace. It was pretty symbolic of the nature of each of our beings. We kept having to stop and wait for her. I fell. And fell again. (I still have bruises.) But did well overall. God, I love skiing. Then the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in, perhaps, my entire life happened…
Nicole and I were way ahead of Cass on the slope. I was in front. I stop to see where Nicole is, turn around at the perfect moment, and watch Nicole literally get eaten by a snow bank. Her skis went in first, followed by her entire body. It was like an old Roadrunner cartoon where the Coyote runs through a brick wall and the outline of his body remains. I laughed for a good fifteen minutes. I laughed ‘til I cried. It felt really good. We finally made our way a little more than halfway down. We stopped to eat. Cass finally caught up. Seriously fantastic hamburger and fries. Or, sorry, “frites.” Cass concluded that she was “done.” Nicole and I pondered re-doing the top half, or continuing down the rest of the massive mountain. The second-half was steeper. She wanted to go back. I wanted to go forth. I won. We had to take some of the hills on our asses – sitting down on our skis. Beginner, my ass. Literally. It was really tough. Then there were obstacles: roads, houses, small children, etc. Tough, indeed. But we made it. At one point I saw a Blackbird in a tree that seemed to be calling to me. I questioned whether or not it was a warning. At the bottom, we were about to leave, and then I suddenly decided that I wanted to try and tackle the opposite side of the mountain. We had an all-day pass and it was only 3:30, and how often am I going to be able to ski in The Alps?! I made the trek alone. Nicole’s shoulder was hurt, and I didn’t mind the solitude.
I reached the top yet again and begun to ski down. The beginning was easy. Not for long. The trail became very narrow and very steep. Death mocked me from four feet away. I stopped frequently to take it all in. The views in The Alps are hard to describe: one can only fathom their power seeing them with her or his own eyes. I truly, literally, felt closer to God.
I did some more ass-skiing and made my way to the stopping point. It was getting late (those trails are HUGE) and I still had to take a train back to the top, only to take another train back to the bottom of the other side. So I waited. Another train wasn’t coming again for 45 minutes. I met a guy at the train stop. His name is Urie and he is from Finland. We chatted. Smoked cigarettes. He had a cool style, and he told me he was in a band. We went inside the little restaurant there and he bought me a café crème [coffee]. We talked. A lot. He was a really nice guy. Finally the train came and we started making our way back down. He got off at the stop before mine to go back to work. I shook his hand. I could tell he wanted a hug. I should’ve hugged him…
I got to the bottom at about 7 P.M. I went searching for Nicole and Cass, as they said they’d wait for me. When I finally realized that they probably left to return the ski equipment by 7, I missed the last train back to where I was staying. I asked the [very rude] info guy about what I could do. “NOTHING! That was the last train! You either walk or sleep here!” Walking was out of the question. I was in ski boots and could feel my swollen shins and ankles bruising as I pondered my predicament. I panned the scene searching for the warmest spot that I could sleep in. There was a hostel about a half-mile down the road, but I had already paid for one in Interlaken, so that was also out of the question. Then, all of the sudden, the man running the train station [not the rude one] asks, “Where are you going?” I tell him. “Only you?” Yes. “OK, my wife will be here in ten minutes and we will give you a ride into town.” I rejoice. “Stay put.” I do.
His wife comes, and they take me to the train station that brings me back to Interlaken. They speak in German about me. I catch a few “Flor-i-da’s” and reaffirm my intuitions that people are inherently good. That man saved me. I never caught his name…
I wait the extra 45 minutes for my train, and rest my achy feet. After the train, I catch a cab back to the hostel. I’m home. I run to my room, change my shoes [heaven], and get some Euros (I didn’t have any Francs) to pay the taxi-man. When I come out, Nicole and Cass are standing there paying for my ride. They rejoice. We go to Hooters. Nicole buys my dinner on account of my being alive, and I recall my day for them over a pitcher of Swiss beer.
I thought this was a joke until I saw it for myself. Linday Lohan’s new line of leggings (remember the eighties) includes a version specifically designed to accommodate a girl giving her date a proper thank you. I Kid You Not! Named the Lindsay Lohan Mr. President Leggings, they have knee pads built in. If you’re like me and can’t believe they’re for real click here to purchase a pair for $132 at Shop Intuition.
Remember Panty Gate of 06 with her, Britney Spears & Paris Hilton? Now, she and her friends find themselves on their knees so often she literally had knee pads built into her clothing. Ah … what a wonderful role model …
Lindsay says she remembers Republican’s dragging President Clinton through impeachment proceeding for letting Monica Lewinsky perform oral sex on him in the Oval Office. Her hope was that someone would give President Bush a blowjob so we could impeach him. But alas … he left office having anally raped America and never getting any for himself.
Here’s this formally employed actress showing off her talents and another as she was in her golden days, aka when Disney was pimping her out to teenage girls and middle aged men, metaphorically speaking.
Fun Challenge Of The Day: (be sure to post comment about your experience)
This one’s only good for men but so works for this posting: Next time a girl turns you down or aggravates you ask her with sincerity: So I guess a blowjob in the parking lot is out of the question?
(Pic on the left) Hakani, who lived in the forest for three years after being abandoned, aged two, by her tribe. She was adopted by Marcia and Edson Suzuki
Babies born into some Indian tribes in the Amazon are being buried alive, a practice that is being covered up by the Brazilian authorities out of respect for tribal culture.The tradition is based on beliefs that babies with any sort of physical defect have no souls and that others, such as twins or triplets, are also “cursed”.Infanticide has claimed the lives of dozens of babies each year, say campaigners fighting to end the practice.Babies who are girls, who have some disability or who have unmarried mothers are all in danger of an early death in a shallow grave in the rainforest. Others are suffocated with leaves, poisoned or simply abandoned in the jungle.According to Dr Marcos Pelegrini, a doctor working in the Yanomami Tribe Health Care District, 98 children were killed by their mothers in 2004 alone.Campaigners say that the true figure is obscured by officials who often record cases of infanticide as simple malnutrition. At the same time, family anguish over infanticide has led to many adult tribal members committing suicide.Attempts to change tribal attitudes and counter official indifference are being led by a Brazilian couple, Marcia and Edson Suzuki. They have worked with one tribe, the Suruwaha, for 20 years.Mr Suzuki, the founder of a campaign group called Atini – Voice for Life – said: “We are fighting against doctors and anthropologists who say we must not interfere with the culture of the people.”Such attitudes are exemplified by Dr Erwin Frank, an anthropology professor at the Federal University of Roraima State in the Amazon. Speaking of the tribes, he said: “This is their way of life and we should not judge them on the basis of our values. The difference between the cultures should be respected.”Like other tribes, the Suruwahá considers that if a child has any deformity or disability, it does not have a soul and so – as an animal – should be killed.Some tribes also believe it is a curse to give birth to more than one baby at a time. In the Suruwahá tribe, a pregnant girl will walk into the jungle by herself to give birth.She then cuts the baby’s umbilical cord, buries the placenta and returns to the village with her child.Sometimes the woman will simply leave the child in the jungle to die if it is a girl or if she is not married.The Suzukis recounted the harrowing story of one girl, Hakani, who they saved from death and adopted.Born in 1995, Hakani – which means Smile – was still unable to walk or talk by the age of two, prompting tribal leaders to conclude she had no soul and to order her parents to kill her.They committed suicide – eating a poison root – rather than obey the order. Hakani’s 15-year-old brother was then told he had to kill her. He dug a hole to bury her next to the village hut, which is where the tribe usually buries animals, and hit her over the head with a machete to knock her out.However, she woke up as she was being placed in the hole and the boy found he could not go through with the killing. Hakani’s grandfather then shot her with an arrow. He was so upset he tried to commit suicide, too.But Hakani survived, although her wound became infected and she was left to live like an animal in the forest for three years.At the age of five she was very undersized, still unable to walk and abused by other Indians. She survived only because a brother smuggled food to her.The Suzukis begged Funasa, the Brazilian government’s health department, to let them take Hakani out of the tribe to get medical help.”Funasa could not help because their official view is to respect the culture of the people and let the children die. If we took Hakani out we could be sued,” said Mrs Suzuki.Warned that they could be responsible for the child’s death, Funasa eventually relented. Under the Suzukis’ care, Hakani was walking and talking within a year. While she suffers from hypothryoidism – an underactivity of the thryroid gland which affects brain development – she is able to attend a mainstream school.Brazilian politicians are currently debating a Bill to outlaw infanticide. It is known as Muwaji’s Law, named after a Suruwahá woman who refused to bury alive her own baby.
For years, this abomination to humanity has slowly creeped it’s way into an unaware society. Like pod people, it infested it’s victims minds with happy thoughts of joining the hive. Sucking the souls of each and everyone of it’s victims, never to return again. It grew from dark corners to small towns and now look around you…they’re everywhere! You can’t run, you can’t hide, for it’s too late. Even your best, closest chum has already succumb to this infestation. Not even the Carolyn and Joe Show can save you now…but we will try.
As the calendar flips from 2009 to 2010, it is only natural to take stock of our lives and resolve to make strides toward improving ourselves.
Quitting smoking or drinking, eating right and exercising are common resolutions around the country. Some folks decide to go back to school or to file a tax return while others go with no longer telling young boys that they will burn in hell if they don’t let you touch their “no-no spot”.
We, at The LOPG, have long been advocates of aspiring to the easy. We set goals, but they are goals like “blinking when our eyes are dry” and “breathing to avoid unconsciousness or death”. We figure that if you set attainable goals, you always feel like a winner and it sets the tone for your whole life.
In 2009, we set out to drink beer when we were at a bar and to laugh when retarded people say “I’m special”. Mission accomplished!
In 2010 it is our goal, and we welcome you to join us in our quest, to give up a few things that we believe will make us better people. Therefore we will support one another as we enrich our lives by denying ourselves parsley and Riboflavin. Actually, since Riboflavin may be in some good stuff, we vow that we won’t add extra Riboflavin to any food item that already contains a sufficient amount of Riboflavin.
So there you have it, Pervs. The LOPG officially starts the New Year with a challenge for all of us. We Believe!
It was kinda dead at first. And a huge sausage-fest. And then, out of the blue, the AGs (American Girls/Aussie Guy) walk in! I was happy ‘cause there was one girl, whose name escapes me at the moment, that I had my eye on. She had nice eyebrows. And glasses. They came and sat down next to us. The AGs, not the eyebrows. The girls were from Boston; in Switzerland on a school trip. The Aussie Guy, Andy, was on vacation with his mom. Cute. Andy and I immediately hit it off. He reminded me a lot of Efren. We talked music (he loves Coltraine), movies, family, spirituality, life…I really felt like he could, under proper circumstances, be a really good friend. He liked ‘Brows too. And she liked him. The girls left, then we left. Andy and I parted ways and had a nice, friendly kiss. He went to fuck ‘Brows. I was jealous.
Cass was moving at a snail’s pace. It was pretty symbolic of the nature of each of our beings. We kept having to stop and wait for her. I fell. And fell again. (I still have bruises.) But did well overall. God, I love skiing. Then the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in, perhaps, my entire life happened…
I asked the [very rude] info guy about what I could do. “NOTHING! That was the last train! You either walk or sleep here!” Walking was out of the question. I was in ski boots and could feel my swollen shins and ankles bruising as I pondered my predicament. I panned the scene searching for the warmest spot that I could sleep in. There was a hostel about a half-mile down the road, but I had already paid for one in Interlaken, so that was also out of the question. Then, all of the sudden, the man running the train station [not the rude one] asks, “Where are you going?” I tell him. “Only you?” Yes. “OK, my wife will be here in ten minutes and we will give you a ride into town.” I rejoice. “Stay put.” I do.
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