I have a friend who has a friend. This guy is a raging Don Juan, Womanizer and Sex Tornado. One Friday night when he was wrecking his usual havoc at Cuckoo, a doe-eyed, innocent young Swedish girl (the type that became legal, like, yesterday) approaches his table and stares wide eyed at the multiple vodka & champagne bottles. “Is it your birthday?” she incredulously asked Him. When he proudly informed her that it was indeed NOT his birthday – she naturally made the conclusion that he must be a billionaire of some kind or just the unknown prince of a small country. So dazzled, in fact, was this young lady that it didn’t take long for him to manoeuvre her back to his lair.
Suffice to say, he banged the living daylights out of her. So much so in fact, that he broke her vagina. Now you’re probably thinking that’s a metaphor of some kind, but no – he literally broke it.
“But, like, how?” I asked him when he recounted the story. “It just broke.” “But how did it break?” “It like, fell of, or fell apart. Parts of it fell off. It fell out. A part fell off.” Now I’m no gynaecologist, but if your va-jay-jay is falling out like crumbling house veneer thats probably not a good sign.
“Holy shit so what happened to her?! Did she go to the hospital?” “Oh, umm, no – I dunno, she took the bus back to Sweden in the morning.” “Haha, you mean flight.” “What?” “Flight – you accidentally said BUS.” “No she literally took a 2 day bus ride back. I offered to buy her a flight ticket but…nope.” And so little Miss Sweden rounded up her weekend in style, 2 days on a bus with a broken vagina.
(im)moral of the story: Not only 50 Cent parties like its his birthday.