Background

So, let's get you familiarized with my life.

For the purposes of this blog, I'll be perfectly happy to go under the name Turd. I am 30 years old, I am born in Canada, and I am right now working in Frankfurt. My parents are from Scandinavia, and I have my apartment in one of those countries.

Let me tell you one thing about Frankfurt, this city is the reason the word SUCK was invented. All of those that have had the misfortune of actually staying here long enough to eat a cheeseburger will now what I am talking about.

This city has no soul, no charm and absolutely no sex appeal. The entire city is filled with stupid bankers. No surprise there, FFM is the financial capital of Germany. Any club or pub will be chuck-full of aspiring corporate retards, wearing the mandatory black suits with white shirts. The only visible color variation being the various shit stains found on their collars, the inevitable side effect of ass kissing...

I have been out on several pussy hunting expeditions. One night took me to King Kahmiamia's. That night proved especially eventful as I ended up dragging home a spoiled 19 year old with a cocaine tongue. This girl kept on doing line after line, and when her blow was out she started chopping down ecstasy with a Deutsche Bank debit card. Needless to say, I was turned on by this Miami Vice addiction, figuring that this tall beautiful specimen would be more than happy to do me if she got high enough.

Don't get me wrong, I am not a bad looking dude, who scavenges the gutters for genetic left-overs and junkies, but I would be damned if all these episodes of Miami Vice would had lied to me all these years...

I was looking forward to passionate cocain fueled sex. I never had any myself, being influenced countless hours of police series (Nasty Boys still rock!)

Countless drinks later we plunged into bed. This was about 5 in the morning, and this was a Thursday, so I had work the next day, but who ever traded sex for sleep, especially with a stupid beautiful blond next to him? I ended up doing her 3 times that night, she moaned and groaned and seemed into it, to wierd part however was the she always kept her top on.. I guess the bitch had breast issues...

To get her home, I told her that she could sleep in in my bed. But at 09.20 I was awake getting ready to go to work. Not that I would actually be able to perform work, but I get paid just as long as I show up.. some project managers just don't have a clue...

So what did I do? Obviously I kicked her out of my apartment, not that I had anything of value in it, but I was not letting a junkie hang around. I kicked her out and that stressed her out, cause she had no where to go, she didn't want to go home to her parents (remember she was 19) in her cocained up state. Kids, let this be a lesson to you, don't do drugs...

Primer

My current job role is driving me up the walls... I have so much time on my hands it's ridiculous. I am a contractor, and my present contract ends in two weeks. As such, I am pretty much relieved of any new assignments or tasks.

I find myself refreshing crappy tabloid pages, in desperate hope of finding new articles on subjects that don't even interest me.. I read an article today about this dude called Dede from
Indonesia, you know the guy whose hands are covered with bark-like warts? Now that his hands are returned to the state where he can finally start solving Sudoku puzzles, isn't that great..?

I figured a meaningless blog would be the perfect outlet for my non-eventful days at work... I am consistently fascinated by the amount of people that will actually take time out of their own lives to read about all the non-events other people write about.

I have very little hope that this blog will ever catch on... and even less hope that I will actually maintain it.. but it is my sincere hope that I will actually keep experiencing these Tucker Max-esque incidents that may give this blog at least a spark of entertainment factor...