240 LBS of African fat

Amsterdam, 02 April 2014.

She is not the type of woman I would eat faces with at one of Need-To-Get-Laid pick-up joints downtown, like the Winston bar even the Lonely Planet travel guide on Amsterdam describe as the Numero Uno place to be if you feel downright lonely in your over-priced hotel room, nor will she elevate anywhere up my personal ho hierarchy possessing an impressive 240 LBS in female body weight, her rancid vomit smell reminding me of watered down horse piss coming out of these red colored Appie Heyn beer cans of Euro Shopper and black stumped teeth do ample goodwill to speed up that elevator to ho heaven...

Sitting on the back of Rob The Toilet Man's bicycle who is busy trying to make his point, his arm flailing like the alu wings of that Malaysian Air Boeing the moment it hit the waves of the Indian Ocean say three weeks ago, needing ten more Euros for number one boom boom back at his imaculately clean apartmnent - hard to believe considering the man is an incurable alcoholic - forty she wants, thirty he has so ringing my bell at two thirty in the morning the only option left for this poor schmuck, begging for ten euros and maybe two cans of cold beer while Miss Big Babe is speaking in tongues on her cell phone...

Somehow I wonder what will happen if Rob wakes out of his alcoholic slumber in mid-coitus, on top of 120 illegal African LBS, his head between two night black boobs the size of soccer balls, desperately but probably in vain trying to keep his erection that has cost him forty stupid Euro and two alu cans of cheap beer...

Or maybe he will have even more conscious fun always having been the Gran Aficionado of the Bigger Babes Clan, blacker as a moonless night and an ass the size of an African Jumbo...

I give him his cherished ten Euro and two cold beers, he has always paid his dues after all...