#turkish smoking macho

[turkishsmoker]

[octuscle]

Hi, i could really use some support. I was supposed to go on a big trip to Turkey for some sun, but I've busted my knee and now I'm bed-ridden in Wales instead. My doctor gave me this device to "help me experience a Turkish holiday" but I've no idea how to set it up.

Your doctor is absolutely right, Chronivac Travel offers great and authentic travel experiences. Here's something I think you'll like. Turkish guest worker on home leave. You can get your boarding pass at the Turkish Airlines counter. And until then, I've booked you the wheelchair service at the airport. After that you won't need it any more.

From the moment you check in, you will become a month younger every minute. And you'll have spent an extra month in Cardiff working on the rubbish collection. Hard work during the day. Hard training at the gym in the evening. And save every penny. After all, you want your family to be proud of you. You live in Cardiff with your cousin. He's the one who got you the job. That's why you speak very little other than Turkish. And in addition, every hour one of your grandparents becomes a real Anatolian.

Your knee problems are history within a minute of picking up your suitcase. And you can even say "goodbye" and "have a nice day" in Turkish. Your backpack is suddenly a hipbag. Almost a real Louis Vuitton. Your cousin has good sources for almost everything. And when you finally get through the one hour security check, you are 35 years old. Your father's father was Turkish. And for the last five years you've spoken almost nothing but Turkish. Your style of dress has already changed completely. Fake leather jacket, ripped jeans, expensive trainers. The latter are fake, of course. Your hair is short, your beard freshly shaved, but your beard growth is getting stronger. You already have a beard shadow again.

You spend most of the time until boarding in the smoking cabin. The flights to the family are okay, but the fact that you can't have a smoke for four hours is torture. At the beginning you read the sports section of the Hurriyet. But after a few minutes you start to discuss football passionately with the other fellas around you.

You are 30 years old when you leave. Your father is a proud Anatole. And so are you. Proud of your manly body and your manly genes, which dominate those of your mother. No one takes you for a Welshman. And when you change planes to Antalya after a total of four hours in Amsterdam, you are no longer one either. A 20-year-old Turk through and through. Macho at its best. But if you can't fuck a chick, you fuck a cousin. If you don't make eye contact, it's not homo.

And when you finally get to your family's summer house and sit on the leather sofa, proudly watching everyone unwrap their presents, you check out your cousins. One or the other is due tonight!

[wholesaletobaccoaustralia]

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Camel Blue

The Camel ts blue cigarettes are a new addition to the line of RJ Reynolds light cigarettes. These cigarettes are very mild in strength and offer a smooth, rich tobacco flavor. They are made with a premium blend of tobaccos and feature a unique crushable filter capsule. These cigarettes are available in both mentholated and non-mentholated versions.

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Winston

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[menpophookah]

[stumbling-after-happiness]

You could have been anyone

You could have been the boy with dirty hair and delightfully defined jaw line

Whose memory comes with the tangy teenage cider smell

Red woven oversized jacket

Snuggled up next to me for warmth

In our drunken pocket on some cold hard wet stone steps

While someone pisses behind us

While someone pukes in front of us

While someone cries ahead in their friends’ protective circle.

We’re sat outside someone’s souped up garage

Inside, there’s a manky sofa laden with skinny jeaned teens

The room is curving with smoke

Green and purple neon lights bounce through the atmosphere

Twisting with giddiness

There’s a DIY wooden bar in the corner

Booming music

Dancing

It could have been him, he lived in a mud roundhouse.

A true hippy, he and his family built it from scratch.

He said it was cold and he had to shower at his friends’ house. He was doing A-levels.

I liked him, his name was Billy.

Tanned skin, wild dark hair and a historical mind.

Goofy, different and gave no fucks.

Broke. Would have been good in bed.

You could have been him.

Or you could have been him

Slicked back dark hair

Intentional muscles

The gym gave him functionality that his home life didn’t

Dirty sheets

Half Mexican genes

Amazing in bed. Seriously. It was wild.

Until it wasn’t.

You could have been him, the him that hurt me with gaslighting.

The him that physically abused me.

The him that broke my heart when he snapped our relationship in two on a hill.

The him who drank too much Captain Morgan

Who worked tirelessly to move away from poverty

The him who never got a break.

The him with the alcoholic father.

The him that was sometimes my path to complete safety.

He bought me a panda toy and told me I love you for the first time for a guy.

The him that took my guy virginity.

The him that took drugs and had an anger problem.

The broken home him.

You could have been him.

You could have been the ‘good boy’

The bartender

The Transformers lover

Caught between being macho and being desperately sensitive

The carer for his vulnerable mother

The same mother that abused him.

The cook. The cleaner. The people pleaser.

The driver, the gaslighter, the often quite kind.

The him with the pervy dad

The great older brother

The one who treated being a boyfriend like shift work

The one that was secretly freaky in the sheets

Who matched my teenage hormones

The open and closed minded

The him I broke up with when I needed my freedom.

You could have been.

Or you could have been

The man from the club

The drunken haze

The one night sort of wonder

The Turkish older man

We used Google translate to communicate in bed

It’s funny now

I was angry that he didn’t eat my waffle

I was angry that he tried coercing me in the morning

He was five years older

Or was it six

I blocked him when I realised he’d taken advantage.

Or you could have been the others

Blonde haired, posh, with ego

Or white dreadlocks kiss guy

Or whining spoilt yet sometimes kind woman

Or my closest friend

Or chav with car obsession and massive misogynistic red flags

Or random ginger guy my friend knew

Or a tinder match

Or my sort of girlfriends

Or the dancing fancy dress elf musician woman

Or gorillaz obsessed Mandy’d up boy

Or in a relationship but definitely flirting emo boy

Or virgin flatmate at uni

Or other virgin flatmate at other uni

Or anyone else I missed.

You could have been anyone.

I’m glad you’re not anyone.

I’m glad you’re you.

The you with kind, fanning eyes

The you with protective worldly hugs

The you who makes dinners

The you who helped me shower when i was deeply and dangerously depressed

The you that gives the best cuddles of anyone I’ve ever met

The you that tells the best truth

The you that has never abused me

The you that welcomed me

The you that snuggles into me in your sleep.

I’m glad it’s you.

[turkishsmoker]

[turkishsmoker]

[turkishsmoker]

[turkishsmoker]

[turkishsmoker]

[turkishsmoker]

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[turkishsmoker]

[turkishsmoker]