Dear Drunky,
I have a slight drunken induced fondness for bridge and tunnel boys... During the day I laugh at their hard crusty short black spiky hair, their dog tags and white shoes...and their guido/hip hop speak. But after a few evening cocktails...I just wanna do em'! The worst is the next morning waking up in with em' in a tanning bed wearing one of their wife-beaters and no pants. Help! I just wanna be a normal slut...
Thanks,
He Came In My Bridge and Tunnel . . . Again
Dear Came,
We all know how hazardous an attack could be coming from the bridges and tunnels that surround our gorgeous city. Even more dangerous is when a friendly Drunktown resident decides to do away with being vigilant and lets any old Ryder truck drive into that tunnel without proper screening.
We understand your weakness, the other day we held the subway door for an olive skinned compatriot with wires dangling from his sleeve. We couldn’t resist, he was like one of those Byzantine big eyed hotties that you just want to snuggle! We called the NYPD for advice about this sensitive situation and they informed us that “if you see something, you should say something.”
So, to build your drunken defenses, practice practice practice – adorn your furby with chest hair and an earring that reeks of machismo. Down 7 – 10 girly drinks and when furby starts talking to you, practice “saying something” to ward off the impending implosion. When furby offers to by you a drink, you can say any of the following.
“Get away from me Sicilian, your ancestors were raped by the moors!”
“Yeah, I’m just not that turned on by guys who beat their mothers but still live with them when they’re 39. I don’t care how good the tomato sauce is.”
And, if those fail, there is always the good old stand by: “I have a yeast infection.”
We hope that this helps you stop the dirty bomb from going off in the tunnel!
Drunky
I subscribed to your blog when is the next post
Posted by: Prada Handbags | November 09, 2009 at 01:43 AM