What countries do you crush on?

Mr. Tea

Shub-Niggurath, Please
Staff member
you could say the same about Devon come to think of it
Maybe among the older people, but I've been disappointed by how generic the accents on younger people around here often are. They could be from Hampshire or Berkshire or Surrey or more or less anywhere in southern England.
 

sufi

осом
dunno, sufi, i recall getting it more than a year ago. but I love you like a brother, so will give you all the credit. xoxoxoxoxo
yeah i do remember posting it that time and noone paid the slightest attention, but i dare say you got there first - there must be another thread around there somewhere
 

Simon silverdollarcircle

Well-known member
What I don't like about holidays is that you know deep down that anyone who talks to you is a loser.

Like who in london talks to tourists in bars? Fucking losers thats who. Not the elite best and brightest, not us lot on dissensus. We wouldn't be caught dead doing so. We'd be too busy making our secret, exclusionary and hilarious conversations and shunning tourists as the polluted flock.

So I'm always conscious that the same applies when I'm on holiday. Someone will start talking to me and deep down I'll be thinking what the fuck is this guys problem.

Always on the outside of the good stuff, and rightly so. That's the problem with tourism
 

Simon silverdollarcircle

Well-known member
Altho when I was 18 - just over 20 years ago- I went on holiday to Amsterdam (obviously) and we did mushrooms and talked way way too loudly at the youth hostel dorm and even the fellow tourists shunned us. Then we went to a Beenie man concert and someone threw a beer can at my head.

Which was all fair enough, in hindsight
 

wektor

Well-known member
Have you noticed how much Georgia is creeping into many people's second choices? Somewhere that appeals to me hugely. I have a friend - like I said - who, along with his twin brother, was an icon painter in the church there, and the two of them managed their blag their way from that to the famous art college in Dusseldorf (I forget the name), I don't know the full details of the story but it is a totally incredible one. They first impressed a local businessman who sponsored them and then they used that money to blag their way west and sort of bit by bit impress more and more important people until somehow they were accepted into the college and managed to - and it's the only word - blag their way to getting the right to remain in the country and then citizenship and so on. In short they went from being people with no formal training doing religious pictures In Georgia, to somehow being personally taught by Peter Doig at one of the most highly respected art schools in Europe.
Although after that it didn't really go so well as one of them had a complete breakdown and at one point was living on the streets and so on and now, very sadly, he seems to be on so much medication that appears totally sedated. I never knew him before but everyone says that he was a real live-wire, in fact the more dynamic of the two, the impetus for getting all that done... but anyway his brother I do really love and I'm trying to arrange a visit there to coincide with him returning to see his parents; I get the impression that it's one of the places where people feel mortally shamed if the guest doesn't feel like his visit was the best few days of his life and that they will force you to eat an entire sheep personally killed just for you every day as a pre-breakfast warm up for the serious eating.
good views
 

sufi

осом
What I don't like about holidays is that you know deep down that anyone who talks to you is a loser.

Like who in london talks to tourists in bars? Fucking losers thats who. Not the elite best and brightest, not us lot on dissensus. We wouldn't be caught dead doing so. We'd be too busy making our secret, exclusionary and hilarious conversations and shunning tourists as the polluted flock.

So I'm always conscious that the same applies when I'm on holiday. Someone will start talking to me and deep down I'll be thinking what the fuck is this guys problem.

Always on the outside of the good stuff, and rightly so. That's the problem with tourism
I dunno, this thread already made me remember a guy i met in far west sudan, a very enormous and poor and undeveloped area, he was called Orobi - the European cos he had a crush
I don't think he'd ever been to Europe but he knew some languages and was an enthusiast.
 

sufi

осом
your not like us Sufi. youre a roguish aristocrat with a twinkle in your eye. we're paste. no one wants to talk to us.
first time i was called that but there is something to it, people would ask me what are you doing here, where is your gun, you must be a very clever spy to get this far unarmed
 

sufi

осом
first time i was called that but there is something to it, people would ask me what are you doing here, where is your gun, you must be a very clever spy to get this far unarmed
any white face would do it though, pasty distinctions do not exist in that situation, apart from you have to have the right cut of the jib to make it that far in flipflops
 

IdleRich

IdleRich
What I don't like about holidays is that you know deep down that anyone who talks to you is a loser.

Like who in london talks to tourists in bars? Fucking losers thats who. Not the elite best and brightest, not us lot on dissensus. We wouldn't be caught dead doing so. We'd be too busy making our secret, exclusionary and hilarious conversations and shunning tourists as the polluted flock.

So I'm always conscious that the same applies when I'm on holiday. Someone will start talking to me and deep down I'll be thinking what the fuck is this guys problem.

Always on the outside of the good stuff, and rightly so. That's the problem with tourism
I hear what you're saying. And I feel that there is some truth in it up to a point.
But just in the last example, I could be in a bar and get chatting to someone and - say they're from Paris - I recognise they're doing in London exactly what I would be doing in Paris and from that, unless I truly have an actual aversion to people on holiday, then, if we were getting on well, then why couldn't our relationship (such as it was) be one on a fairly equal level.
I agree that this would be a bit harder if I was trying to slum it for an "authentic" experience in Thailand or something, but I'm really taking issue with the thing about talking to tourists in bars.
If I go to Egypt then I probably will just look at the pyramids and say "that's amazing" and that's ok too but it's a completely different thing.
 

luka

Well-known member
Staff member
I went to Cairo. My abiding memories are a dead cat outside KFC and being hustled into a shop and aggressively sold papyrus.
- shitting myself in Egypt, multiple times. here's a 'hilarious' account of this time in my life from another forum:

''Might not have even been the last time but I shat myself in Egypt about four-five years ago. I dunno how I got a dodgy stomach (could have been any number of reasons) - all I know is that I was drinking a can of Sprite in my hotel room, looking forward to a boat trip down the nile which was commencing the next day, when suddenly I did a fart that was more liquid than the contents of the can I was sipping from. I rushed to the toilet, squitted a bit and laughed it off - 'So that was my experience of diahorrea while travelling' I thought, smugly.

I spent the rest of the night shitting and sweating and vomiting. At one point I was sick in the sink at the SAME TIME as letting loose a pound of chocolate Angel Delight from my arse-end. I went to bed, teary eyed and turdy arsed, about five hours later. I shat myself in my sleep, waking up to find myself tucked into what was effectively a gigantic sheet of used Andrex.

Then on the boat down the nile, I lay on my back and moaned a lot for about two days, occasionally leaving the boat to go and do a wet shit in the desert sands while stray dogs circled around me hoping that some Pedigree chum would fall out of my bumhole.

One night (and I'm not lying) I had a dream where I was in a 'who can shit the fastest?' contest. The guy judging the contest counted down from 3. On '1' I woke up. If I could have shrunk the boat we were on to the size of a chocolate mini roll than we could have gone on a little cruise down my trouser legs.''

- shat in a hedge on new years day about five years or more ago. left a party in the middle of the countryside while pissed up... stormed off, basically, with the intention of walking home (even though i was miles from home and had no idea how to even get close to near it), ended up walking around in pitch darkness half freezing to death. that was when the hedge shitting occured.

- several other times in numerous fields. i grew up in a fairly rural area. its par for the course.
 

Corpsey

call me big papa
Also didn't like Bangkok for similar reasons. Getting stopped every two minutes and offered a ride to a diamond factory and/or brothel.
 
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