(Ste)Irishe Erfahrungen
(Ste)Irishe Erfahrungen
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So, since all the holiday-addicted, salt-water-hungry Brits hang around on the sandy coast, the unworthy traveler quickly said goodbye to there and ended up in a picturesque cemetery, complete with a little church, a little further inland.

Before that, the unnecessary person actually wanted to fill his belly (which was rounded strictly according to Feng Shui) with a small, healthy breakfast, and had already chosen a suitable Maillard bacon and sausage refinery the day before, but these crazy Brits simply know how to light a fire under the noble horse of a dishonorable gaijin.

In the morning they simply blocked off the street and wanted to hold a parade, those party-loving Brits!

So the traveling egg bear had no choice but to forego the crispy island pig refined with the finest oil and to have his oral-erotic-culinary bacon fantasies satisfied somewhere else.

...and he found "The Oak Inn".

What a damn cool place!

The grumpy little guy would have loved to become as soft and cuddly as a full-fledged kitten, curl up purring and oblivious to time as he licked his own furry balls in front of the fireplace, while he thought about moving in here permanently, it was so damn cozy!

And we don't even need to talk about breakfast, which still sits nicely in the dishonorable gaijin's stomach even at 9 p.m. and provides a pleasant feeling of fullness, along with a satisfaction that the foul-smelling fetid only knows when he has been able to smash a black toad into the ceramic in a really relaxed manner and without agonizing screams of pain.

Yes, and the person who was unnecessarily present also learned something today!

There is a somewhat older lady at work who keeps claiming that horses are only good for meat loaf and as such are at least of some culinary value.

This can only confirm today the useless Gaijin!

As he was about to leave the cemetery he had visited, two young British ladies rode along the road and passed Schreibermeier, who was standing extra quietly and making no noise.

But when the running Leberkäse became aware of the predatory, dangerous traveler, these useless creatures were frightened and almost threw the ladies off.

What this means:

Horses don't belong between your thighs, but rather wedged into a bread roll with mustard and ketchup!

Every now and then she is right, the somewhat older colleague, that's what the grumpy scribbler learned today.

Ajo: the cover picture finally shows the head of the unworthy traveler!

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