I’ were early on a Mondy morn when wee Bonnie McGregor me’ Fritz Herzenschlampe in the olde library of Sydney University. She’d ’ad an ’ankering for’im since arriving Doon Under from olde Sco’land some time ago. His wee moustache tickled ’er fancy, and also her cheek when he kissed’er good day. Now they were “practising their language skills”, a pretext for doggin’ each other oft used by exchange students.
Fritz greeted wee Bonnie with a salute, an affectation she found dullion like. “Good day, me friend!” she cried (said loudly, not wept). “How are ye goin’?” Fritz nodded in reply. His perfectly gelled hair se’ her heart a-flu’er. “Ja!” he barked. “Gut! Und now, shall ve schpeak English togezzer?” Her heart sank as if i’ had taken a wee tumble on the Sco’ish highlands. He didn’ seem t’understand the true meaning of their encounter.
She unzipped her tartan skirt and le’ it fall to the (newly renova’ed) floor of Fisher. She ’ad no pantaloons on. “Ye big goon,” she cried (see above). “I kenn ye! I kenn wit ye wan’!” Fritz clicked his heels together suddenly, as was his wont. “Ja!” he yelled. “Und was ist das?” “Gonae give us a nip, eh, me wee Fritz?” she questioned, liltingly. He gawked at ’er newly skuddy fanny, frowning. “Vot?!” Having been previously merely sexually frustra’ed, now she became a more generic type of frustra’ed. “Me wee Fritzy,” she whispered. “I cannae believe ye don’ understand. I’m horni.”
Fritz had been finding it hard to understand, but now he just found himself hard. “JA!” he shouted. He stripped ou’ of his khaki uniform and swiftly proceeded to invade our bonny lass Bonnie. “Aye,” she cried, this time with a bit more weeping. “Ja!” he yelled, again and again. And thus our two wee protagonists swapped not just cultural experiences, but also liquids. They finished messily, and so did this week’s Horni Soit.