Artsy Fartsy Time

[RW]

Did people spread rumours that you put them in your vagina when you were in high school?

[Anonymous]

Did people spread rumours that you put them in your vagina when you were in high school?

My vagina? You must have me confused with Romero.

[Bricktop]

ac_lmfao

[Twenty Dollars]

Did people spread rumours that you put them in your vagina when you were in high school?

??no??

Maybe the girls talked about it. Oscar Meyer?

[RW]

That was one of the nicknames supposed hot dog fuckers get in high school.  I wonder about this phenomenon though.  Why is there a hot dog fucker in every school?

[@realAzhyaAryola]

A salute to Jackson Pollock:



http://www.china-art-discount.com/ProImages/bpic/Jackson%20Pollock/PLCK0059.JPG">

[Renee]

Is that your latest work, Azhya?



Pretty cool.

[Bricktop]

Are you serious?



Jackson Pollock is to art what the WWE is to sport.

[Bricktop]

Chinatown.



Even in the middle of the day, it was dark and menacing. Moreso, when you're white, dressed sharply and as out of place as Fashionista at a Wicca gathering.



I looked for a kindly face, which in these parts meant a face that didn't look like it heralded your immediate violent and bloody death. An old Chinese woman sweeping the footpath in front of the "Red Dragon" restaurant looked like the least likely to pull out a blade and start slashing as I approached. A fleeting thought crossed my mind as I walked up to her...why does every Chinatown in every city of the world have a restaurant called the "Red Dragon"? A Chinese version of KFC perhaps, without the herbs and spices. Or smiling caricature.



The old woman continued sweeping and looking downwards, even as I stood a foot in front of her and the footpath was now clean enough to sleep on...a fate I hoped I would avoid.



"Shen Li", I said in a clearly quizzing tone.



The obligatory and expected lack of response followed, her eyes still fixed on the paving and the brush still sweeping in unnecessary arcs.



Optimistically, I took a twenty from my pocket, brandished it under her still downward gaze, and said "I'm looking for Shen Li".



Again, the stoic and quintessential Chinese brush off. This old crone had clearly been approached by westerners on prior occasions.



The twenty returned to my pocket, making way for a fifty, and I repeated the question. At least she looked up and held my gaze, and the brush ceased what I suspected may have been perpetual motion at one point.



Now we're getting somewhere.



The twenty made a reprise appearance and joined the fifty. I moved the notes closer to her hand, still clutching the broom.



She took the cash.



"Shen Li. Where is she?"



"You no look for Shen Li. Shen Li look for YOU" she snapped back.



Another twenty manifested itself in my hand...briefly before transferring into hers with astonishing speed for a woman that looked like she'd survived both world wars.



"Why you want Shen Li?" she asked, just as sharply.



"I have a business deal to put to her"



A ten. That made the payout a neat hundred, which amazingly is the standard fee for information no matter where you are in the world. Nothing short of three numbers will get you anywhere, and the drip feed of notes until you reached that amount was just part of the game.



"Inside" she said, accompanied by a nod of her head towards the restaurant behind her. Always a restaurant. Always the "Red Dragon". Always paying off the lightly disguised sentry.



As I approached the door, the crone fired a warning. "Good luck, cookie boy. She in bad mood. You might come back out without balls. She badass".



What else is new, I mused as I opened the door.



And discretely, briefly grabbed my testicles.

[Anonymous]

ac_toofunny  

[Anonymous]

Chinatown.



Even in the middle of the day, it was dark and menacing. Moreso, when you're white, dressed sharply and as out of place as Fashionista at a Wicca gathering.



I looked for a kindly face, which in these parts meant a face that didn't look like it heralded your immediate violent and bloody death. An old Chinese woman sweeping the footpath in front of the "Red Dragon" restaurant looked like the least likely to pull out a blade and start slashing as I approached. A fleeting thought crossed my mind as I walked up to her...why does every Chinatown in every city of the world have a restaurant called the "Red Dragon"? A Chinese version of KFC perhaps, without the herbs and spices. Or smiling caricature.



The old woman continued sweeping and looking downwards, even as I stood a foot in front of her and the footpath was now clean enough to sleep on...a fate I hoped I would avoid.



"Shen Li", I said in a clearly quizzing tone.



The obligatory and expected lack of response followed, her eyes still fixed on the paving and the brush still sweeping in unnecessary arcs.



Optimistically, I took a twenty from my pocket, brandished it under her still downward gaze, and said "I'm looking for Shen Li".



Again, the stoic and quintessential Chinese brush off. This old crone had clearly been approached by westerners on prior occasions.



The twenty returned to my pocket, making way for a fifty, and I repeated the question. At least she looked up and held my gaze, and the brush ceased what I suspected may have been perpetual motion at one point.



Now we're getting somewhere.



The twenty made a reprise appearance and joined the fifty. I moved the notes closer to her hand, still clutching the broom.



She took the cash.



"Shen Li. Where is she?"



"You no look for Shen Li. Shen Li look for YOU" she snapped back.



Another twenty manifested itself in my hand...briefly before transferring into hers with astonishing speed for a woman that looked like she'd survived both world wars.



"Why you want Shen Li?" she asked, just as sharply.



"I have a business deal to put to her"



A ten. That made the payout a neat hundred, which amazingly is the standard fee for information no matter where you are in the world. Nothing short of three numbers will get you anywhere, and the drip feed of notes until you reached that amount was just part of the game.



"Inside" she said, accompanied by a nod of her head towards the restaurant behind her. Always a restaurant. Always the "Red Dragon". Always paying off the lightly disguised sentry.



As I approached the door, the crone fired a warning. "Good luck, cookie boy. She in bad mood. You might come back out without balls. She badass".



What else is new, I mused as I opened the door.



And discretely, briefly grabbed my testicles.

Priscilla earned some extra money for herself.

[Bricktop]

ac_lmfao

[priscilla1961]

Chinatown.



Even in the middle of the day, it was dark and menacing. Moreso, when you're white, dressed sharply and as out of place as Fashionista at a Wicca gathering.



I looked for a kindly face, which in these parts meant a face that didn't look like it heralded your immediate violent and bloody death. An old Chinese woman sweeping the footpath in front of the "Red Dragon" restaurant looked like the least likely to pull out a blade and start slashing as I approached. A fleeting thought crossed my mind as I walked up to her...why does every Chinatown in every city of the world have a restaurant called the "Red Dragon"? A Chinese version of KFC perhaps, without the herbs and spices. Or smiling caricature.



The old woman continued sweeping and looking downwards, even as I stood a foot in front of her and the footpath was now clean enough to sleep on...a fate I hoped I would avoid.



"Shen Li", I said in a clearly quizzing tone.



The obligatory and expected lack of response followed, her eyes still fixed on the paving and the brush still sweeping in unnecessary arcs.



Optimistically, I took a twenty from my pocket, brandished it under her still downward gaze, and said "I'm looking for Shen Li".



Again, the stoic and quintessential Chinese brush off. This old crone had clearly been approached by westerners on prior occasions.



The twenty returned to my pocket, making way for a fifty, and I repeated the question. At least she looked up and held my gaze, and the brush ceased what I suspected may have been perpetual motion at one point.



Now we're getting somewhere.



The twenty made a reprise appearance and joined the fifty. I moved the notes closer to her hand, still clutching the broom.



She took the cash.



"Shen Li. Where is she?"



"You no look for Shen Li. Shen Li look for YOU" she snapped back.



Another twenty manifested itself in my hand...briefly before transferring into hers with astonishing speed for a woman that looked like she'd survived both world wars.



"Why you want Shen Li?" she asked, just as sharply.



"I have a business deal to put to her"



A ten. That made the payout a neat hundred, which amazingly is the standard fee for information no matter where you are in the world. Nothing short of three numbers will get you anywhere, and the drip feed of notes until you reached that amount was just part of the game.



"Inside" she said, accompanied by a nod of her head towards the restaurant behind her. Always a restaurant. Always the "Red Dragon". Always paying off the lightly disguised sentry.



As I approached the door, the crone fired a warning. "Good luck, cookie boy. She in bad mood. You might come back out without balls. She badass".



What else is new, I mused as I opened the door.



And discretely, briefly grabbed my testicles.

Ugh, I can't make the understand. ac_unsure

[Bricktop]

Ask Shen Li make Chinese the words.

[priscilla1961]

Ask Shen Li make Chinese the words.

yes