SL55/63/65/R230 AMG: Road Rage in my SL65!
You never did finish your story as you had promised. What did the police officer who was writing you a ticket say when you knocked upon his window?
You never did finish your story as you had promised. What did the police officer who was writing you a ticket say when you knocked upon his window?
....Beat up that ****** like Ronnie King.....
..For having some fake carp.......
..and looking at the officer in a gay way......
....The End.
....
..Oh wait to be continue, part 2 of the story PRChris in Jail....
....
Last edited by SL BRABUS; Oct 19, 2004 at 11:05 PM.
You never did finish your story as you had promised. What did the police officer who was writing you a ticket say when you knocked upon his window?
As I stomp my Gucci boots back into the AMG, I try to calm myself down. I reach into my Hermes Birkin and clutch on to my Burberry teddy bear like there was no tomorrow. I took a quick glance into the vanity mirror, and notice my under-eye foundation smeared and my eyes so red, you would think I was in a Heatherette runway show.
I glance into the rear view mirror in horror as I see his patent leather Brooks Brother ‘Beyond Tacky Edition’ shoes creeping up to my Diamond Blue V12 Bi-Turbo. Not wanting him to notice fear, I immediately reach for my oversized Chloe to cover up my face.
“Here is your ticket, see you in court on the 13th of December” I hear as I watch his chappy unnourished lips through my jet-black frames.
“The 13th of December?” I ask.
“If you didn’t know, I do St. Barths in the winter,” I respond.
He totally ignores me, and hands me the ticket. Confused, I quickly go for the glove compartment, reach for my Dior Ski-Resort collection gloves, put them on and ****** the ticket out of his Nivea moisturized palms. He is in shock, as I pull up my one-touch windows and speed off.
I could hear the V12 BiTurbo echoing through the skyscraper-lined streets.
As I the navigation finalized out journey, I request valet. I was in a rush, so left my car parked out front waiting for it to be retrieved by valet. The generic-uniformed minimum wage security officer rudely requested that I patiently wait for the valet! “Wait?” He must not know who I am!
More frustrated than LVMH, when Alexander McQueen fled to Gucci group, I stormed out of the AMG. The security follows me through the entrance asking me to move my car, or it’ll be towed.
“Sweetheart, need I remind you that my good friend Hedi Slimane (Dior Homme) was in the building and he would not allow such a thing to happen.”
“Hedi Who?”
“The head designer of Dior Homme, douchebag” I respond.
We begin to argue, making a scene. He follows me some more, and I begin to lose it. I began to throw a hissy fit. The in-store associates, custodial workers and shoppers turn around in amazement as four letter words begin flying out of my Prada moisturized.
I point my Chanel manicured fingers at his dirty face, cursing, and tapping my Gucci’s, as jaws drop in amazement.
I was quickly whisked away by the management who kindly guided me to the fitting Dior room, and ensured that my Mercedes would be fine.
If it wasn’t for the therapeutic sensation of Haute Couture, I could have been thrown in *Gasp* jail that night without my Burberry Teddy!
Life is soooooo complicated!
Here! Here! But I have a feeling he would have enjoyed being bent over in Jail!
T
PRchris, since you are soooooo famous what is your name so I can google you.
As I stomp my Gucci boots back into the AMG, I try to calm myself down. I reach into my Hermes Birkin and clutch on to my Burberry teddy bear like there was no tomorrow. I took a quick glance into the vanity mirror, and notice my under-eye foundation smeared and my eyes so red, you would think I was in a Heatherette runway show.
I glance into the rear view mirror in horror as I see his patent leather Brooks Brother ‘Beyond Tacky Edition’ shoes creeping up to my Diamond Blue V12 Bi-Turbo. Not wanting him to notice fear, I immediately reach for my oversized Chloe to cover up my face.
“Here is your ticket, see you in court on the 13th of December” I hear as I watch his chappy unnourished lips through my jet-black frames.
“The 13th of December?” I ask.
“If you didn’t know, I do St. Barths in the winter,” I respond.
He totally ignores me, and hands me the ticket. Confused, I quickly go for the glove compartment, reach for my Dior Ski-Resort collection gloves, put them on and ****** the ticket out of his Nivea moisturized palms. He is in shock, as I pull up my one-touch windows and speed off.
I could hear the V12 BiTurbo echoing through the skyscraper-lined streets.
As I the navigation finalized out journey, I request valet. I was in a rush, so left my car parked out front waiting for it to be retrieved by valet. The generic-uniformed minimum wage security officer rudely requested that I patiently wait for the valet! “Wait?” He must not know who I am!
More frustrated than LVMH, when Alexander McQueen fled to Gucci group, I stormed out of the AMG. The security follows me through the entrance asking me to move my car, or it’ll be towed.
“Sweetheart, need I remind you that my good friend Hedi Slimane (Dior Homme) was in the building and he would not allow such a thing to happen.”
“Hedi Who?”
“The head designer of Dior Homme, douchebag” I respond.
We begin to argue, making a scene. He follows me some more, and I begin to lose it. I began to throw a hissy fit. The in-store associates, custodial workers and shoppers turn around in amazement as four letter words begin flying out of my Prada moisturized.
I point my Chanel manicured fingers at his dirty face, cursing, and tapping my Gucci’s, as jaws drop in amazement.
I was quickly whisked away by the management who kindly guided me to the fitting Dior room, and ensured that my Mercedes would be fine.
If it wasn’t for the therapeutic sensation of Haute Couture, I could have been thrown in *Gasp* jail that night without my Burberry Teddy!
Life is soooooo complicated!
So enjoyable...! Thanks.
The Best of Mercedes & AMG
We feel your pain!!
I'm a med student also, and could you elaborate on which type(s) it is(are)? (meningovasculitis, general paresis, or tabes dorsalis) If you forgot, general paresis is a loss of cortical neurons usually in frontal lobes, gliosis, proliferation of microglial cells, perivascular lymphocytes and plasma cells. Spirochetes, I think, are also formed. Now, I think I'm being paranoid like him/her. :S lolbtw, are u sure this is the right cause of the problem? It seems she would have lost some of her senses and have experienced some pain though...
Last edited by E55fanatic; Oct 21, 2004 at 06:45 PM.
Sweetheart, the only help I've needed lately is the loading/unloading of my Louis Vuitton luggage into the Maybach.
Thanks for your concern.
Ciao!
Last edited by PRChris; Oct 22, 2004 at 09:25 AM.
Excuse me? It's Prince Christian III to you! Ugh, if my great grandfather heard this, he would be rolling around his marble grave.
Don't cry, you will be OKAY.
*Passes Emilio Pucci ‘Campanula’ print scarf*
It's okay; you can wipe your tears with it.
SL BRABUS, IngenereAMG, Doctodd33, dgussin1, S_kLaSse, JamE55, Andrew1316, MBAMGPWR, Chris 45971 And BklynBenz; I want you all to keep up with the postings and contact me VIA Vertu if my name should be brought up.
*Asks groomist to bring plastic wrapped Hermes baggage out of wardrobe corridor*
I'll tell my good friend Naomi (Campbell) all about my 'MBworld.org' Charity Babies!
Ciao!
Thanks for your concern.
Ciao!
you rely on free handouts?? so you really arent that rich? just playing rich? hahaha


That's what I was about to say... OR, he's the designers' boy-toy. Just like "tearing it up" in the SL65, they tear him up in another way...
*Rubs Prada moisturized chin*
When you're V.I.P. people send you things, as if we have control over it? You are reading too hard into it, hun.
Let's go over this again!
*Takes out Cartier pen and begins writing on Chanel Allure scented paper*
When you are rich and fabulous you (a) are invited to all the events (b) receive the best of the best from top designers. It's like advertisement. When people come to my tastefully decorated, yet over-the-top Central Park West condominium, Lake Como Italian villa or my Palace Gardens estate (London’s Billionaire’s row), the more they inquire. The more people inquire, the more revenue Armani and Versace bring in.
Did you get that?
*Return Cartier pen to diamond-cut storage box*
Last edited by PRChris; Oct 22, 2004 at 08:26 PM.







