Back to the Boobs

There was a time. A time without worries, a time without complications and a time without thinking. A time focussed on drinking, party and boobs. Just a couple of friends and the world belonged to us. Well, it sounds a little bit like sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll. Hell yeah, it was sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.
But then things became different. Marriages, children and girlfriends jumped in our lifes. Time went by, girlfriends came and went, some meaningless, curios and funny sex affairs and then it finally happened: Divorce and break-ups at the same time. FREEDOM!! REUNION!! Time to revive old times.

Motto: Back to the Boobs!

Location: Ratskeller Recklinghausen. What a paradise, what a beautiful place. Honestly, 70 percent women.

Let the hunt begin. Pretty soon it appeared that we were the prey. Yes, we still have it! And we still haven't lost our charm. "Why don't you guys wear shirts with assholes of the day?" Exactly this girl went on a date with one of us some days later.

If you are surrounded by girls, hater ain't far away. 1,95m pure Mcfit on coke. Lovely guy. We tried to calm down the situation. I don't even know why it became a situtaion, because we are not violent or anything like this. But he didn't want to listen.

My friend: "Come on let's make some party and everything will be fine. Look we are six und you are two."
Mcfit: "Bla bla bla, I was in prison for three years bla bla bla."
My friend: "Who?"
Mcfit: "Me."
My friend: "Who wanna know?!"
Patsch! Mr. Mcfit punched my friend.

...Two seconds later...

The Mcfit guy flew from one side of the dancefloor to the other side. Bouncers came and brought us out. Mr. Mcfit wasn't really smart, he tried to attack us again and flew again. This time a litte bit harder than before.

Well, it's good to know the bouncers, so we were allowed to go back into the club.
After hours of drinking and dancing, what happens? You get hungry!
If there isn't a McDonalds it's pretty hard to get some food at five in the morning. But some smart guy runs a pizza place right next to the club and it was opened.
This pizza is the best pizza in the world...when you are drunked. Sorry, but if I would have been sober, the pizza would have flown like the Mcfit guy.
Anyway, we were sitting in the pizzeria with some other drunken guests and waited for the pizza. Tense atmosphere. Drunked and hungry - bad combination.
"Your mother can pick you up"
"Don't say something about my mother"

Mother here, mother there and so on.

Pizza guy: "What did you order?"
My friend: "Pizza Tonno, family size." He just ordered normal size, of course.
Pizza guy: "Seriously, what did you order?
My friend: "Pizza Tonno, family size, i swear."
Pizza guy yelled: "What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you fucking with me? You get barred and you can forget your pizza! I'm asking you the last time: What did you order?"
My friend: "Spaghetti platter!"

Well, I'm pretty sure that the pizzy guy spit on the pizza.

Older? Yes! More mature? No way!
It was a really nice evening with a nice flashback in the past. It seemed like nothing has changed.

Moral of the story: Forget the boobs and keep your roots.

Hello??? Forget the boobs?? Never!!