August 17, 2005
Olga Korbet comes to Norfolk.
My sister and i had an unhealthy interest in a very dangerous practice when we were in our teens.
Did we self abuse with sharp implements? Had we been lured into a crack den fresh from the school gates?
Did we ride without a helmet on the back of the local lad's motorbikes??
No, it was MUCH worse------
----We used to hitchhike to get to dances and discos....the local lads were simply not GOOD enough for the likes of us.
The only males in our age group were deliquents, desperately inbred or ACTUAL village idiots.
No spotty oik was fit to finger OUR gussett.
Yes Siree, WE were going to bag at the very least, someone who lived in the NEXT VILLAGE ---if not, an actual TOWN!!
We would slap on the war paint and make ourself look 10 years older than our actual age.
Dad would look out of the corner of his eye from behind the newspaper, suck his teeth in a 'tut tut' manner and say in his lilting Irish accent:'Sure your're not going out with all that heelball on ya (another suck of teeth) bejeezus----!!!!!!'
We ignored him, he was just the silly old man that would call out to us on our departure; 'don't be late'
LATE?----we were jolly lucky to get home at all.
We disappearerd into swirling mists, driving rain, searing heat (in the days when we used to have summers) and gale force winds.
We were determined not to let the bloom of youth be hidden from a wider audience of yokels and bums.
We put ourselves through near death experiences (when artic lorries could not see us walking along the unlit roads)
We clambered into absolute NUTTER'S vans and we sometimes shared these varying modes of transport with all manner of livestock and pets----(the one i remember most was a rabid dog)
We encountered the 'ride for a ride' mentality. I shudder when i think of it.
And for what??
All we met were Nutters and those who ALSO had this 'ride for a ride' mentality----and they knew they were onto a winner, for it was the only way we could get the return journey home.
'JUST ONE MORE SUCK BEFORE WE GET YOU HOME' they would grin---and they would compound being dickheads by being moronic enough to FORCE our heads onto it---(a practice which i abhor to this day)
Even if you met an acceptable bloke---there was nowhere to go----the car was the boudouir.
How quickly one tires of the hand break popping the vertabrae one by one---or 3rd degree frostbite--because they didn't want to wear the battery down by switching the heating on----and single legs (as near as damn it, at an angle of 180 degrees) out of both wound down windows
of the lovemobile.
I could have been a hell of a gymnast, Olga Korbet doing the splits on the beam? Pa!!!! She didn't have a dick inside her at the time---though come to think of it---some of the gymnasts from the 'Eastern Bloc' were straddling the X Y chromosome distribution.
Anyway, i digress----My sister did INDEED bag a Naval Aviator whilst i searched globally for my main man.
If i look any further afield it will truly have to be called: HITCHHIKERS GUIDE TO THE GALAXY.
Posted by Letitcia at 02:06 PM | Comments (0)