Monday, October 03, 2005

Why am I smiling?


OK so this photo I took of myself whilst I was riding my bike. I was very happy today because I took no prisoners today. You see here in Southern Italy when dealing with people you've got to stick your tongue in their asses until you've tasted their breakfast and this is when they are working for you, when you are paying these cocksuckers There was this situation that occured in a bar that I always go to and I bring many people to. And I went in to pee, and the prick at the bar, barked at me that the bathroom was for cutomers, and it was a shitty turkish bathroom where you shit in a fucken hole in the ground and he fucken barked at me like I was using the queens private commode. I told him I am going to buy a coffee, and asked do you want me to drink it before I use your shitter? Then I explained that my collegue was having coffee in the bar, so I didn't think it was such a problem and he barked that my collegue didn't pay for her tea, and I'm like hold the horse boss, my collegue would definately pay for a couple of Euros tea and coffee, after all she only walks around with 3000 fucken Euros on her at all time. So I very James Bond-ly said put it on my tab, (as I had 1500 Euros on me at the time.) And then I fucken held the coffee to my lips and put it down on his rancid bar and thought I'll fix his red wagon or fiat or whatever the fucker travels in. So this is where my asshole abilities really can come to light. A table of my guests arrive at the bar ready to eat and drink and I wait for this bastard to come over, to which I say in Italian to him, "is it alright if my guests order in your bar? Will that be a problem for you?" he says no not at all, they then order a huge quantity of food, and drink. To which I'm write by their side barking what they want to him in Italian even though he spoke to them in English and when he spoke to them in English I fucken translated his English to them in fucken English, belittling the fucker. Then I turned to him and asked "is it ok if my guests, use your washroom?" and he got the fucken point. He apologized to me, and I said you know I come here every week, I order food, I send my guests here because the food is good, I recommend this place and you treat me like I'm a piece of garbage (all with a shit eaters grin on my face) so that my guests don't realize I'm about to step on this guys throat. He apologizes and does the classic italian back peddle and says, "you know a lot of people use our washrooms, and a lot of bikers use it too and don't buy anything." I stopped him and said "not my guests, not my guests at all." and he fucken knew I was right and sometimes thats all you need. Well as if that weren't enough, some twat of all twats, tried to ream me out at a resteraunt, after I dropped some serious fucken coin in the place. I've had my balls in a twist with the way things work here, and now that every hotel calls me signor Marco, (mister Marco) I feel it only right if my alter ego this Signor Marco, don't take shit from nobody. So after this bitch starts balling me and my collegue at a certain point I'm thinking enough already shut your pie hole, so I interupt her mid sentence (you don't do that here) and say "you know you're right, it won't happen again, but realize this that sometimes stuff (signor Marco can't say shit) happens." and she tried to continue and I interupted and said "yes thank you I must go." And a tootle fucken doodle to you.

1 Comments:

Blogger daleboyer said...

now that's my kinda story...
-Dale

12:24 a.m.  

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