How to make an ugly woman beautiful? Beer!

I had the opposite experience once, where beer caused a beautiful girl to turn into a total gross-out. It's a true story, I remember it vividly.

I want to eat your face

2-4 for me, it doesn´t take that much for the 'magic' to happen.

On the lucky side, my latest 'catch' turned out to be even more beautiful the day after
Gotta love those gorgeous swedish blonds

<font color=blue>My sig, not yours</font color=blue>

Man, that does indeed, suck.

Do beautiful women still barf on you? I mean, without you asking first?

LOL! Reminds me of the time I spent in the gulf, back in '91. In the prelim to war, we did drills and all sorts, kit prep, but, above all, we got sacks of mail. I mean hudreds of sacks! The press started a campaign for girls to write to "lonely squadies". Now this was interesting!

Not only would they write and talk about themselves, but a lot would enclose photo's of themselves (some in states of undress!). Some of these women would give you a bone that frighten next door's Alsatian!

But, for every looker, there were five mingers! One of the lads started <b>The Pig Board</b> in the mess hall, for the finest examples of moose-ness to be displayed. Then there was the competition. Each week, the mail was divvied up between us, and whoever came up with the biggest, most foulest stinker of a picture (and the voting panel's decision was final!), had to write her a <i>love letter</i> back to her, overseen by two nominated, very crude individuals!

Isn't it nice to know that HM Forces spend their time productively?

I'm sure some brief, yet beautiful [cough] relationships came of it!

I'll sign up for the pigs right now.

I want to eat your face

There is a huge difference in the amount of alcohol that has to be consumed in order to get the beer goggles working, and the amount of alcohol needed for me to act on an ugly woman.

At least when I was single.

I need to pretty much be unconscious. I barely remember anything.

<font color=red>
<A HREF="http://kevan.org/brain.cgi?dhlucke" target="_new">The French are being described as cheese-eating surrender monkeys.</A></font color=red>

I want to hear about Rob's mingers, cos by that statement, he sounds as if he's had a few he'd like to forget...

Come on!

<b><font color=blue>~ <A HREF="http://forums.btvillarin.com/index.php?act=ST&f=41&t=324&s=58e94ba84a16bedfebbf0f416d5bac48" target="_new">Nice sig 81.</A> ~<font color=blue></b>

"I'm so desperate, a shooter of pepsi will do it for me! "

Dude...you've got to learn what types of things to admit, and what not.

Or, better yet...put down the mouse, step away from the computer, and go make some magic happen.

Poor bastard.


War Eagle

OK, Jesus, can't beleive I'm gonna reveal this...

'93, I'm on leave, there's about 4 of us hit the bars, drinking like there's no tomorrow. I'm talking pint and chaser, 3-4 an hour! Anyway, roughly around 11pm, we spy a group of, what can only be loosely described as women (I think) leaving the pub. So we swiftly drink up, thinking "Wa-hey" and pursue them into the night. Turns out they're going to this nighspot where's there's good music and the beer's cheap. Cheap beer? Follow on, we said.

So anyway, we kind of pair off in this club. Well, not really a club. More a done up pub (had a lick of paint) with a reasonable sized back room. Piss-poor disco and the centrepiece... A glitterball hanging from the ceiling!
Now, the one I'm with (who's name I think was Carole, although I'm not altogether sure) is about 5'3, shortish brown hair, glasses and, what I thought were quite reasonable sized charlies. So I'm thinking to myself, not bad, as long as she blows the pipe, OK.

2-3 more pints later, and the nights coming to a close. The slow songs come on, and, naturally, the ladies want to slow dance. So I walk (more like stagger) to the dance floor and grab my prospective shag for the night. My mate Karl is on the floor too, with eyes like piss holes in the snow and dancing with a woman that could be best described as "Wide load". Dancing finishes, and we start to leave to seek sleeping arrangements.

Carole asks if I want to come back her place? Do I? Bloody right! And all things being equal, I give her the pleasure of my (limited) experience and drunkenly fulfil all obligations beofre I either passed out or simply fell asleep. Thinking back, more likely to be passed out.

Next morning, my watch alarm goes off, I've got to be heading back to camp today and it's a long trek. I get up, feel like somethings shat in my mouth, there's someone attacking my head with a sledgehammer and there's a gymnast in my stomach. Not good, but I think I'll have a slash and a wash and take it from there.

I emerge from the bathroom over toward the bed. The thinking was, maybe a quick one before I go. Then she turns over and is lying on her back, so I see her in the cold light of day....

OH....MY....GOD! what have I done. A she beast. Pure and simple. The glasses she wore? Remember that scene in "Me Myself and Irene" when she looks up at the sky and can just see a plane? Then she puts Milky's glasses on and she can see all the people on the plane?....Those were HER glasses. Like the bottoms of to Coca-Cola bottles! Jesus. and she had facial her. Lots of it. And, false advertising, small breasts. There was a lot of toilet paper on the floor near her bra, put it that way!

But the crowning feature for me, was the fact she had what I can only describe as Pontoon eyes (english version of black jack). One twisted, the other one stuck, you know what i mean?

And I missed all this due to beer.

I was out of the door in 2 minutes. I did my shoes up outside on the wall. Cured my hangover, thats for sure!

So there you go, the perils of drinking!

ROFLMAO!!!!!!!!!!!!

<font color=red>
<A HREF="http://kevan.org/brain.cgi?dhlucke" target="_new">The French are being described as cheese-eating surrender monkeys.</A></font color=red>

That's such a beautiful story. It made me cry quietly just thinking about it.

I want to eat your face

I'm guessing you get pretty close to hurling too.

I want to eat your face

Now would it be fair to assume that you didn't call her?

I want to eat your face

So tell me, she she smoke your pole? If so, how do you feel knowing that such a hairy beast gargled on your love-stick?

I want to eat your face

Dare I ask what position you assumed for the act itself?

BTW, you sahould have given her a good facial. Might have covered up her ugly mug.

I want to eat your face

Did you try to pot the brown too, by any chance?

I want to eat your face

It's a tricky manouvre at the best of times.

So did she moan and gasp, or was she the silent type?

I want to eat your face

I would at least have left a big jobbie in her bed.

I want to eat your face

A COUPLE!!!!!! You mean you did her more than once? Can't have been that ugly.

Pardon my curiosity, but this is a 'need-to-know' situation?

1. Did you wear the rubber when she was blowing you?
2. Did she go straight for your knob or did you have to cajole her to smoke the great white owl?

I want to eat your face

She may have been bitch ugly, but you gotta admire her enthusiasm.

Mind you, there's a fair chance that she hadn't gotten any in a while.

I want to eat your face

Maybe she'd accept you back if you asked nicely

I want to eat your face

I know. I have the same problem. Bloody marriage

I want to eat your face

What if they are one and the same?

I want to eat your face

That doesn't even bear thinking about! Imagine having to service a beast like that almost every day?