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Friday 24 June 2011

(F5) England, My Rebound Country


(Artsie-KittyGirl @ DeviantArt)

You know that crazy b*tch Tracey Hansen?
The short version is: she’s a freelance writer, author, and blogger. But that’s the boring cover version you get when you could care less about the person behind the handle. That’s why I’m here: to give you the dish behind the feature, and believe you me, you want to read on if you’re British, American, human, or somehow all three (hey it happens). So who is Tracey Hansen?

Tracey Hansen’s butt is showing on her Twitter profile (@THansenWrites) -- she says it's an ass-stool. Tracey Hansen can rap by memory the entire song ‘I Am’ by Eminem. Tracey Hansen was meant for Samantha’s role in Sex and the City.

Word on the street is that she’s quite shy when not properly liquored up. I might as well start a petition to never let that happen because she’s a HOOT when she’s her charmingly sarcastic and scandalous self. You know, the one that scared Meryl Steep once and got a restraining order or something; and no, I don’t know the whole story. *sigh*

She says you can choose to be entertained or offended by her blog. Obviously, I’ve chosen the former. Oh and in case you’re wondering why she always ends her posts with WTYM... you can keep wondering because I will never tell. Ha!




England, My Rebound Country
by Tracey Hansen

Warning: This article contains all kinds of naughty subjects.

When I was approached to write a guest post for Violeta I immediately thought of my trip to London a few years back since she is from the UK.  Enjoy!

Typically when girls get dumped they get a new haircut or start a new hobby.  This is the outward way in which girls rebuild themselves after something as life shattering as a break-up happens.  Me?  What did this Florida girl do after I found out my boyfriend of 7 years was leading a polygamist life with another girl in another city…in a condo that I owned? 

I got my tits done, grabbed two girlfriends, and flew to Europe to partake in three weeks of drunken debauchery, far far away from the ex whom I was positive was now a disease carrying sociopath. 

I wanted to drink warm beer, stick my tongue in the mouth of beautiful British hotties, eat fish & chips, and ride the London Eye. 

It’s important to have goals. 

There are a few differences between the Brits and Americans that fascinated me.  For one thing, here in America drugs are very hush hush.  Deals are made in darkened alley ways and through secret exchanges.  In London I had several people very politely ask me “Would you like some cocaine?” Sometimes even shouting it above the music in a bar or club.  I naturally declined, being already high and all. 

British boys are fascinated with fake boobs, but not like the way American boys are.  British boys want to know if they hurt and if they feel weird and where the surgical point of entry was.  American boys just want to know when they can put them in their mouths.

In America we don't use the word 'cunt'.  Even seasoned potty mouths don't use the 'c' word.  In London they fling it around like they are asking if you want fries with that.  As an open minded person who respects rituals and foreign cultures, I have learned to incorporate the 'c' word in every day conversation.   For example "You look cute today you cunt." or  "You want to go to the movies cunt?" 
 
Circumcision is not a European thing.  Keep this in mind at all times.  Nobody likes surprises.  I cannot stress this enough. 

Drunken texting from London to America is not a good idea.  Especially since each text cost $3.99.  So, the simple texts you send to your ex asking him why he chose that big nosed slut over you (just a general example) have now cost you that new vibrator you inherently now need since you no longer have said boyfriend. 

Everyone is hotter with an accent.  Please do not let the voice fool you.  Also, while swooning at the average looking British boy with the accent, do not forget the lesson two paragraphs up from here.  This is vital. 

When waking up in a strange bed in a part of London you are not familiar with do not be frightened when the cute British boy goes for coffee and his ugly roommate tries to grope you.  You are American, you could break him like a twig. 

And finally, when doing the walk of shame back to wherever the flat is that you rented from wherever the flat was that you woke up in, do not be afraid to stop into a coffee shop and order wine.  Even if it’s 9am.  They will know you are an American girl who has had a hard time when they see the caked on mascara and twisted eyelashes with yesterday’s makeup.  They will be nice to you and they will not judge you…to your face.  The laughing you hear coming from the back is not about you…I swear. 

14 comments:

T.M. Frazier said...

To clarify, my Twitter pic is an ass stool not my actual ass. However, I am comfortable showing both. Thank you for letting me dirty up your blog a bit!

Kelly Breakey said...

Laughing so hard I am crying. Great post Ms. Hansen. Next trip, I want to go.

Unknown said...

@Tracey Didn't know there were such creatures. :D Yes I am very excited too. Finally!

@Kelly And ladies, please don't forget me. I'll show you all the (dirty) fun places around. :D

Kelley said...

lol. Just lol.

Jennifer Prescott said...

This is brill! Thanks for featuring the scandalous and witty Tracey Hansen.

Mark Evans said...

Soooo... do the fake boobs hurt? :-D

A marvellous guest blog, as I always knew it would be.

Mark (a Brit)

Dannie said...

Tracey. Dounds like you had fun in Ole London town. You're probably a legend over there. I bet I'm the only guy to write a poem about your... chair and what's behin it.

Great job!

D. Ryan Leask said...

I spent four months in England (strangely never set foot in London proper) but now I know who this "American Tracy" legend is (bathroom stalls instill your legend, and phone number). There was a saying too, fun as an American Tracy.

:-{[)

Unknown said...

Now that you guys mention it... I did see some T-shits with her ASS-STOOL on them. The guy was playing 'Crazy B*tch' by Buckcherry in the background.

Anyway... thanks for dropping by and reading Tracey's dirty confessions, everyone. <3

T.M. Frazier said...

@Mark...No! But that made me laugh.

@KD and @Jenny Thanks for reading, you guys are fab!

@Dannie, I would send you a chair but I think you are probably closer to the manufacturer than I am! lol

@DRyanLeask I was wondering if anyone ever read what I wrote in those men's rooms!

Anonymous said...

Please tell me that WTYM = word to your mother because that would make everything right in my world.

I'd also like to add that I would very much enjoy a pair of fake boobs. I'm totally ok with the idea that 500 years from now someone might dig up my body and find nothing but a pile of bones and a pair of silicone implants.

Unknown said...

Ha! My lips are sealed. Only if Tracey wants to reveal her secret.

Omg, you're insane, Wren. I'd rather they found me... wait, I'd rather be ashes. Ashes to ashes, it's poetic.

Welcome to today's episode of How I'd Like My Funeral. :D

Marjorie McAtee said...

"You are American, you could break him like a twig." LOLOLOLOLOLOL

T.M. Frazier said...

Wren-You are correct, I'm glad I could make everything right in your world. lol Thanks again to our hostess with the mostess for letting me post my dirt on her nice clean blog. : )