Firstly come on Microsoft Word 2010. Don’t play dumb with me, you know what “whorey” is…you don’t have to be all like “did you mean “worry”?” you’re fooling nobody.
Secondly, the reason why I say a very whorey Christmas to you is because we spent Christmas Day morning in a brothel.
What? Where? Did you say “brothel”? (Word recognises that one, by the way)
But yes, that’s exactly what I said.
After getting considerably tanked on beer, wine, vodka and slivovice (73% proof) at our family Christmas dinner, Mark, Simon, Nina, Jessie and I decided to take it up a notch. So we took to the streets of Zurich and, after rejecting a few strip clubs, finally walked into an unassuming bar decorated by red lights…and strolled straight into the arms of a toothless old man.
And he was all “Blah blah blah…something in Swiss German…..blah blah blah”, which roughly translated as “Great! Fresh meat! Hey Larry, have a look: there are fresh new whores for us! Santa’s been a right good bastard this year. Hand me the butt plug will you?”
Needless to say we got the hell out of there before the near-naked overweight whores had time to beat us with their saggy boobs.
The moral of this Christmas tale? I you ever hear someone say “wow, Zurich is such a clean city!” slap them right across the face….and then point them to Langstrasse.
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