Motherfuckers better feel the pressure
Shit, we're in some medieval rathskellar internet cafe shit in the Tallinn - it's kind of like Olde Europe Disneyland up in this shit. Apparently the EU opened up the floodgates to open bars called Molly Malones and serve Mojitos. Nothing gives the "Fuck You" to Brezhnev's ghost faster than some girly rum drinks. Stick on that on your perestroika platter.
A few minutes ago:
Me: Ma en oska esti keelt.
Estonian busline agent: I speak English.
Me: Could I have a bus from Moskow to Narva.
EBA: What are you doing in Moskow?
EBA: Also, you don't want to go to Narva.
Me: I know about Narva.
EBA: Do you like HIV?
Why yes, buddy, I fucking love it. Magic Johnson is my hero. It's showtime forever in this fucker. Also, no one gave me the memo that telling Fins your going to Moscow is like telling a New Yorker you want a nice weekend in Gary, Indiana. Why you're so high and mighty here, eh? Don't pretend like you isn't burning churches. I read that book. Also, I threw some pigeons my leiber crumbs, and the motherfucker only ate 25% because he has to give the rest to the federalist pigeon government. Viva Suomi!