Oh my goodness. What day is it right now? I don’t even remember. I’ve changed since yesterday. I am no longer the same woman I woke up as yesterday morning. I am liberated and empowered!
I know what you’re thinking: “Betsey, you went back to that American Bar last night, didn’t you?”
Yes I did. And I brought home a little treat with me “To Geaux.”
Tee hee hee.
You know what that means. 😀
Your next question: What was his nationality?
Ooh, this is so fun! Let’s play a guessing game. I’ll give you three hints:
- My favourite writer of all time is from this country. That would be our one and only lord and savior, the great Willy Shakes.
- They used to run Hong Kong. And India. And the United States. And most of the world, actually. They don’t anymore though, thank god.
- The soundtrack for this post is the 1812 Overture.
I know what you’re thinking: “Betsey, did you fuck a colonizer?”
I did. Yes. Yes I did. It was awesome! That’s why I need an epic soundtrack with cannons and fireworks. Let freedom ring!!!
Yeah, I had a great night. No complaints whatsoever. I had a great time. 14/10, no notes. It was so much more than just lying back and thinking of England, as they say, lol.
*sits there and giggles for a long time*
Sorry, what was I talking about before this? God save the Queen. I’ve completely lost my train of thought.
Something, something, troll? Who knows? Who cares? They’re just mad that I’m a strong, independent, empowered woman who makes my own choices. And one of those choices was to bang the shit out of this hot British guy. Fantasy Fulfilled. It’s over, y’all. We can all go home now.
I know what you’re thinking: “Betsey, are you a slut?”
First of all, no. I do not use such problematic terminology to refer to myself. Second, I am empowered, okay? I’m living my best life dining out at the all-you-can-eat world buffet every day.
Third, you would not call a man a slut. You would be like, “Way to go, bro! Congrats on nailing the American. I hear she’s really picky.” Of course they already know me at this bar, so they’ll be on this guy all week. They’ll be like, “Oh of course she went for the Brit instead of the Irish guy. Not the hot gangster guy, the other gangster guy. They’re all ex-IRA, like for real. The one who was offering her his huge tracts of land back in Ireland.”
Oh that reminds me, I promised this guy I’d do him a solid and put out a personal ad for him on my blog. Ladies, if you’ve ever dreamed of returning to your ancestral homeland on the Emerald Isle and retiring from society to live a quiet, pastoral life on a beautiful farm, this guy is the one for you. He will take care of you. And, as previously mentioned, he has huge tracts of land. Must be a Farm Girl Extraordinaire, which I am most definitely not.
Anyway, this place is crazy.
It’s like… now I understand why men go Big Game Trophy Hunting. I feel like I just shot a charging elephant or some shit. Not that I would ever shoot an elephant. That’s terrible. I don’t actually personally believe in hunting, especially beautiful, intelligent, magical creatures such as elephants.
I’m just saying… There’s something very satisfying about pushing those pins into the map on the wall, you know what I’m saying?
Thailand is great. Bangkok is great. Leaving the United States was the best choice I’ve made in a long time.
No more corn-fed, bland AF Midwestern farmboys for me. I am living the dream!
I am writing this sentence as the big moment at the end of the Overture is starting. I’m just imagining fireworks over DC like it’s the Fourth of July. Brilliant.
Spotify, find me a British Invasion playlist.
Wow, I can’t believe I used to be so angry. Why? Over what? It’s like I’m just a different person now than I was this past weekend. Like, who gives a fuck about this dumb troll dwelling in his basement? Nobody. Especially not me. I’m very busy and important and making dates every night of the week.
I love this American Bar! Amazing. Thank you, Bangkok. I’ve gotten laid more here in the last two months than in ten years in South Dakota. Ugh, and may I just say how refreshing it is to fuck hot single men my own age instead of other people’s dads and grandpas and husbands, lol. Other People’s Papis, if you will, lol.
U down with OPP? Yeah, you know me!
The drought is over. I have finally found the promised land.
I’m so happy right now. I’ve always wanted to fuck a British guy! And now I’ve done it! Love that for me! I am so happy for myself. Well done, me. Well done indeed.
It’s the accent. It really does it for me.
Um, yeah, so, that’s how I learned why everyone in Thailand is always smiling. This is the best place to come if you are fucked up in the head. They will feed you, get you drunk, get you high, and then get you laid. Amazing. Love it. 14/10, no notes.
Um, yeah, that’s all I have to say right now. Like, was I really that angry, or did I just need to get a right proper pounding? Hahahahahahaha love it.
And now I’m gonna go eat my leftover Mexican rice bowl for breakfast, hahaha.
I’m in a great mood. I hope the troll trolls this post. Go ahead. Do it. Call me a slut! I’m not a crazy bitch anymore! I’ve upgraded to crazy slut!
Hahahahahahaha
Hahahahahahahahahahaha
What this post needs now is the James Bond Theme. And on that note, I’m off to re-populate my Island of Lost Guys.
😀 😀 😀
*post fades out to the tune of Moonraker by Shirley Bassey*