How to Find Love Abroad

I was really starting to lose it. I didn't tell Veronica this, but the chief thing I was looking to discover in St. Petey's was LOVE. And, like she told you all blasé and nonplussed, we didn't fall in love with anyone at the hotel that night.

This is worse news than young V-Ron could know.

No Love? I thought, as I wandered in a daze around Vladik and Anya's honeymoon suite.
What?
They were asleep, they didn't even know I was watching.
Oh, shit, but now they do because Vladik is the one person in this world who actually does follow this blog.

Well, Vladik, I'm sorry. I was really lonely and felt an impulse to intrude on your special night with Anya. I know it was your first time having sex with her, because I saw you trying on different-sized condoms for fit.SIDE NOTE: I HAD NO IDEA THAT PEOPLE CAN BE ELITIST ABOUT CONDOMS, TOO. Larry Murphy just couldn't roll on a generic, could he.

And by the way, Vladik, you don't wear condoms when it's your wife that you're fucking. Married women reject pork casing--they don't need a penis to be wrapped all tight because it doesn't matter if her vagina gets loose anymore....it's not like the next guy she has sex with is going to look at that cooter and say, "Cor bloody hell, you've gone and got your nonny all helter-skelter"...because the next guy she has sex with will not be Ringo Starr. It will be you.

God, this is a painful subject.

I guess this is as good of a time as any to talk about the Russian man who broke this American girl's heart.

(big, exaggerated sigh.)

I saw him across the t-shirt table at American Apparel. And for all you hipsters out there who are confused, forgive me if that's not specific enough of a location. I do understand that there is a difference between t-shirt tables at American Apparel but I've only gone to Emerson College for one year and don't fully understand what separates the Tri-Blend short sleeve from the Mélange short sleeve. I do know that Alexei, the dream man, looks downright saucy in a fine-spun V-neck jersey.

Aside from being able to tell from his sense of style, I knew by the twinkle in his eye and devilish grin that he was the man I've been waiting for. I only hope he's heard the rumors about the sex drives of redheads and Lebanese girls...and of course, relayed that info to his attractive brothers and coworkers and arms dealers.

ALEXEI, CALL ME!!!! Let's paint the town red!

And as soon as I texted him that, I remembered how difficult it would be to find a single inch of Russia that isn't already painted red.