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June 20, 2003

Do you know why they call it a Royale with Cheese?

Girl-E is kickin' it single-girl style this weekend because The Dude is out of town. In Amsterdam. For a bachelor party. Yes that's right, we said Amsterdam for a bachelor party. Vegas is so JV compared to that. The joke about "you guys are really gonna enjoy Anne Frank's house" is getting way old.

The wife of one of the other attendees is trying to get her husband to smuggle hash back, but Girl-E is hoping that The Dude is not numb-nutted enough to sneak drugs into Turkey. Midnight Express may be exaggerated and racist, but it's not entirely untrue. The same said other attendee has been openly discussing the "academic exercise" of pricing prostitutes. Because it would be interesting to understand, you know, the economics of the trade as a legal enterprise.

By the way, The Dude went to the Bahamas for a bachelor party two years ago. On a private yacht. That was the groom's uncle's converted naval war ship. What the fuck.

But anyway, Girl-E's all set, she's got Trollope, women's Tennis on Eurosport, and shitloads of really awesome Turkish cherries. Oh, and a sprained ankle, and no money because it was all spent on The Dude's plane ticket. But it's cool, really.

Maybe she does want him to smuggle the hash.

p.s. Just the fact that you wrap your sprained ankle in an Ace bandage does not make it ok to wear platform sandals.

Posted by The Twins at June 20, 2003 10:28 AM

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