I am so excited that the stunning Poppy of Funny or Snot agreed to post today! I don't remember a world without Poppy. Seriously. I don't remember if we met on Twitter or on the blog or if she read my blog first or I read hers first.
Frankly, blogosphere just simply can't exist without her. I love this little lady. She's like the big sister I wish I had, cool and pretty, but not stuck up in the least. And? She's a fellow Oregonian, so that's gotta do something for the cool factor amIright? Plus? She's hysterical.
Go read her blog and follow her on the Twitters and see for yourself!
Thanks for having me Andy, this is my very first guest post on someone’s personal blog. To be fair, I have been asked before, but I usually come up with some excuse because I’m lazy and only post a few times a week on my own blog. I fell in love with Andy the moment I saw her debut as a stripper and she offered to give me a free lap dance if I participated. (Editor's note: I so did. Shall I wear my lucite heels?)
Onward to Sexy Saturday.
The story I’m about to share happened on the last night of a backpacking trip through Europe that I took with a friend that I’ve known since grade school that I graduated college with in the fall of 1995.
We didn’t spend the entire trip being chased by The Big Dick, we got a little savvier as the trip progressed and did our fair share of chasing. At 22, we never seemed to have any trouble finding young male tour guides anywhere we visited. In Venice, a quick over the clothes feel up by the gondolier was all that was required for a free ride through the canals. Of course, that was a bait and switch. On my part. Sorry, Laura.
We were back in Paris and beyond tired, but couldn’t waste our last night in the city. We ended up at a small, darkish pub with a band. We had enough beer to turn from tired to giddy, before approached by two locals. One hot, one not. Sorry, Laura.
We chatted as much as possible between sets of the band because it was loud and I don’t speak French and he didn’t speak much English, but he was cute so there was a lot of hair flipping and pretend laughing going on.
Oh, and the hair. I’m just going to jump to the punch line here and let you know I fucked Fabio.
And now he shall be referred to as Fabio because I don’t actually remember his name. Well I kind of remember it, but I have no idea how to spell it.
Fabio actually got up and sang a Stones song with the band at one point. I had requested Highway to Hell, but he wasn’t familiar with ACDC apparently. It was still sexy.
My friend was getting tired and I don’t blame her because Fabio’s friend really was troll like in appearance and when you’re speaking the language of love, it matters. So for the first time in our entire adventure together, not only did we separate I was about to be separated from my red hot passport belt.
So it turns out Fabio lived about an hour outside the city and in which direction I could not tell you. So this could also be filed under Stupid Shit I’ve Done Saturday as well as Sexy Saturday.
So now I’m with Fabio in his apartment somewhere in France. He introduced me to his roommates and they spoke English as well as he did. In my mind the French exchange between them and the ensuing laughter was “What a fine American piece of ass” instead of “I thought you just got rid of the clap, are you trying to pick it up again?”
We proceeded to Fabio’s room with whatever the French-English translation of “Would you like to see my CD collection?” was back in the day and he shook me all night long. The French have a well earned reputation because it was one hot night. and morning. I almost forgot I had a flight to catch that day.
This fact did not escape my friend who woke up wondering where I was as this was before everyone had a cell phone. I probably should have tried to figure out what hotel we were staying at and attempted to call her and let her know that I was indeed alive and planning on making it back in time to go home, but that would have required effort. I’m not sure if irresponsible trumps whore in this situation, but I didn’t care.
A “sorry Laura” didn’t quite cut it this time when I did the ultimate walk of shame with my bra in my pocket on an hour long train ride from Istilldontknowwhere to make it back just in time to grab my backpack to head to the airport.
I did learn on the train ride home though that the French aren’t that picky when I had no less than four guys try to pick me up. It must have been my Something About Mary hair compliments of Fabio.
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24 comments mean you love me:
If you could see me you would know that I have failed Sexy Saturday miserably. Oh well! Great read for a Saturday! :)
huh? I'm sure that's not true. all that's required is the reading of a fun sex story and enjoyment thereof. see? win!
I am giggling so hard right now.
What American girl doesn't have an experience like this in France?! ;)
teehee. me! that's who. I lived in France and all I met were trolls. but I did have this experience in Italy! when in Rome. literally. ;D
Please let's not have stupid shit I've done Saturday. I could not survive the shame.
That said- you and I would of had fun traveling together Poppy.
well heck that's a good idea! snort.
What do you mean you did this when you were 22...I thought you were 22now!
...you can send my cheque later...
And well, all women should fuck someone named Fabio. I think it's a requirement.
Great post as usual Poppy! I already read the prequel/sequel over at your blog, and I can only say one thing: doing the nasty when you have to pee is almost painful...
I second that. no wait, I escalate it. having to pee while having the sex is absolutely painful.
SKipping right to the point...this is hilarous! Although I think you unsexified the "Fabio" by naming him "Fabio" I just keep picturing a roid'ed up dude getting whacked in the face with a bird. Also, I picure lots of butter that really isn't butter.
snort!
mmm I concur!
I have so much to say, like we all wish Poppy were our older sister since she would have bought us Marlboros and Jager.
It's so funny that she wrote about this famed backpacking trip because The Big Dick might have been the story that hooked me on Funny or Snot initially.
Poppy, I only made it to France as a married woman and it's a good thing because I definitely would have come back with Pain Au Syphilis.
Loved.
Pain Au Syphilis. snort. stealing that.
My father would have a stroke if he read this story. Not because of the sex but because you separated from your buddy!! Shock and horror would ensue...in his mind...
But I don't see the harm in rat bastard reading this. It might do him good.
You and Poppy together in one place? Now THAT'S a party!
teehee
my dad would have freaked out many times over if he knew half of my unsafe shenanigans in Europe.
woot! partayy!
France, huh? I might have to give it a try...
France. Italy.
yum,
Now that's one sexy story...do you think the pick-ups on the way back had anything to do with the fact that your bra was in your pocket? Just wondering.
You make me want to be young again, just to throw caution to the wind. Or throw Fabio on the bed.
i'm never going anywhere with you, poppy.
snort
I really hope you mean that literally
I knew I loved Poppy!
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