blag on

Jun. 12th, 2008 10:25 am
kindigo: (Default)
So certain people who shall remain nameless have been trying to get me to blog more often. I've been resisting for a number of reasons:

- I mostly post boring things about my day and the same people who would read it already know it. And would you really enjoy reading something you've already experienced once, just from another viewpoint? that's hardly high literature, or interesting, or worth your time, it is? Oh, wait, some of you would...

- I haven't been doing anything interesting lately. I don't think I've drawn anything new since my icon; I'm just working. And that's what I'd write about. Boring, right?

- They normally say this while laughing, so I'm not sure how serious they are. ?

Well, here I am, blagging.

So yesterday at work I'm trundling along doing my thing until this one stayover room at half-twelve. I knock on the door--it's certainly late enough--and this huge giant of a black man, at least six foot three, answers the door.

Sans pants.

I'm very very proud that I managed to plaster on a smile and say "Do you require any fresh towels?" with perfect waitstaff politeness. A flawless recovery! And it only took, oh, five seconds or so!

The best part is that he came out of his room later (fully dressed) and started chatting. "What's there to do in this town? I'm stuck here for a few days," he says, as nonchalantly as if a young girl half his size did not just see him half-naked. Yes, well, kudos to you for recovery points, too.

On that note, what is there to do? I don't know, I'm not a tourist. I suggested the casinos, shopping downtown, and also that if it weren't raining he could choose the popular recreation of the bay ("Is that....it that like, the beach?" he asked) or golf. Dear God. And while I'm desperately trying to come up with tourist-y things to do my brain keeps piping, Why did you answer the door without pants on?!

And then in one of my checkouts I found one of those Indiana Jones Burger King Scratch-and-Win things for a free Whopper Jr. It was a great day.
kindigo: (find x)
I had a kind of wtf day.

First: w00t for my boxy box, which I finally managed to convince the post office to relinquish. Ranch flavored Pringles! We have Pringles here, but not ranch ones, because...we don't have ranch. T^T Le sad.

And that's what I'm happiest about in the box. No, not really, I have a freaking digital camera too! Yes!

Perfect timing for my trip to Hungary. I'm not dead for a week, guys, just in Budapest. So Diskarrteslaind is not allowed to launch a nuclear attack on Somnamblia while I am away, you hear me? Dryoma, Bayunok, and the Empire of Magnus the First will protect me! So there. =P

But getting my box was wtf-y because of the postal workers, again. I really don't even want to get into it, it was that wtf.

Second: While on the bus home from MY LAST DEUTSCH COURSE (excuse me while I laugh in triumph: hahahahah) there were some rowdy teenagers in the back. They were just generally being jerks, playing loud music, putting their hands and feet everywhere, and other Disorderly Ungerman Things. After about fifteen minutes of this extreme annoyance to every other passenger, the bus driver makes the usual stop at the market and orders the kids to come to the front of the bus, where she chews them out. She said a lot of things in a very calm tone of voice, and then she said, "If you're going to act like animals, you can walk home."

And she kicked them off the bus.

YOU GO, GIRL.

That was cool but also wtf.

Third: While walking home frmo the bus stop, I ran into a man. Now, so you know, it is dark except for streetlights and mildly raining. I ran into a man who stopped me to talk. No, I wasn't scared for my life or maidenhead or anything; that's not what was wtf.

Out of the blue this man asked me if I was going home, and he made this point specifically, to sleep. At first I was all wtf and thought I had misunderstood, so I told him my German wasn't so good. He said: >>Gehst du nach Hause....*mimes sleeping* zum Schlaft?<< I was just like.....Yes, yes I am. And then he asked me if I was here on vacation. I lied and said yes because it was easier.

Random tangent: Germany will do that to you. Either you will become a very honest person, or a very good liar, because they try to trap you. They say things like: Did you do [this] today? when they know it's not possible. z.B., did you go to French club after school (I know it was canceled let's see what he'll say huhuhu). Why do they do this? Are they just distrustful of people in general? Is it an adult-to-teenager thing? Is it only me? Because, ha, I haven't been caught out yet (mainly because I haven't been lying, but still).

So. Ähem....where was I? Oh yes. The wtf man. Then he's all like, That's cool, how long for? and then without waiting for an answer he pointed to the house behind him and said he lived there. Then he shook my hand firmly, said Tschüß, and walked off.

Did I mention he was standing in the rain? I'm thinking that maybe he thought he recognized me in the dim light and then realized his mistake but was too polite to brush me off. Seriously, though, am I alone in thinking that'a little wtf? Maybe I'm the crazy one. *sigh*

That's all, folks.
kindigo: (onoz)
So when I went upstairs for breakfast this morning, I happened to look out the front window, expecting the usual sight: street, currently sheepless field, the railroad tracks I run down to the bus stop when I'm late, a house, another street, Cow Mountain. Except something was different this morning. something was missing. Can you guess what it was?

Me: Hmmmhmm, oh hey, cheesey bread, mmy cheesy, wow it's oddly bright for this early in the morning, ohmigod the mountain is gone.
Mist: Mwahahaha, we have stolen Silent Hill Cow Mountain. All your fears cows are belong to us.
Cows: *disembodied moo*
Me: O_O *creeped out by the thought of freak falling ZOMBIE COWS LOOMING OUT OF THE MIST!* >>Where is the mountain?<<
Beata: >>It's covered by the mist, duh.<<
Me: >>What's<< mist >>in German?<<
Beata: Nebel.
Me. Nephelheim, wha...?
Beata: >>Go out in the mist and feed Christmas and Dinner.<<
Me: >>But...I will get lost in the mist...<<
Beata: >>Too bad. Go anyway.<<
Me: Mist.

Note to English speakers: 'Mist' in German means >>crap<<.

Me: *to the rabbits* Hi Christmas, hi Dinner, enjoy YOUR LAST MEAL.
Christmas: *panicks wildly*
Dinner: *munches potato*
Me: That's right. You too can celebrate your last supper. *turns to go back to the house*
Mist: *thickens ominously*
Chainsaw: *starts up in the background* (*no, seriously, it did*)
Me: I, er...I know I'm somewhere near the fish pond...
Rabbit cage: *suddenly and quietly disappears in the mist*
Me: *freaking out* There was a hole here
zombie!cows: Braiiiins Müüüüüüüüü.
Me: *backs away nervously*
Fish pond: *looming suddenly* IT'S NOT AS GONE AS YOU THINK!
Me: *falls in the fish pond*


Yes, so, one hot bath later, (dude. water + 1° = hypothermia!) I am preparing to leave for my Christmas present. ? We are driving to it, apparently. This is yay, because I have no chance to survive, as I will have several heartattacks in the car as "zombies" jump out at me.

The first obstacle will of course, be getting anywhere near the car without checking under it first, preferably with a tyre iron, because the Schmiedgens already think I'm weird (probably from Nanowrimo, and I'm sure falling in their pond in an inexplicable panic didn't help much either).

All right, I'm off. *stocks up the zombie gear* Where's the portable radio?

Kalimera!

Oct. 30th, 2006 03:20 pm
kindigo: (todolist)
I am back from Crete, but don't have loads of time to post before deutsch class, so I'll just say this: who among you thought I was joking about being hit by a freak falling sheep?

So did I, until this: I was walking back from the beach one night, this is through a thin valley, and I heard the distictive sheep bell and baaaa. So I look around and around, no sheep. I look up (and up and up) at the sheer mountain cliff-face above me until the curiously jutting rock resolves into omg it's a sheep it's going to fall on me.

Yes, a flock of sheep gamboling around the mountainside , completely ignoring the gravity of the situation. And now I'm late, so αντίο!

Edit: On the subject of sheep, there is now a flock in the front yard. Why? whyyyy. I can hear them baaaing from here. (I need a sheep icon to encompass all things sheep. -_-°°)
kindigo: (meh)
OMG, [livejournal.com profile] tosatisfyme, this one's for you.

I was in church this morning for Dankfest or some such, but seriously, it was all I could do not to crack up laughing because it was exactly like that Rowan Atkinson skit. The Hallelu----ja-luuuu-ja....luuuuuujaaaaa well you know what I'm talking about. Up, down, what's going on. Only in German.

My cheek is still sore from biting it so hard.



In other news, my skin is burning with bee poison. Maybe you don't know that the Schmeidgens are honey farmers. Well, they are. And Jürgen sees his Honig the way that guy from My Big Fat Greek Wedding saw Windex. So yes, I put honey in my coffee, spread it on my bread, eat a spoonful of this incredibly stong-tasting honey+something-else 'medicine' when I'm sick, and so yes, right now all my scars are burning from bee poison. Because there's this cream and I didn't run away fast enough.
kindigo: (Default)
Since we briefly covered US History in English I've had the 'We The People' Schoolhouse Rock Song partially stuck in my head. (Head, meet desk. Hard.)

More in the Stairs Escapade )

Also fall is here, rather suddenly like in Thumbelina. Also like in Monty Python & the Holy Grail, particularly the bit where the guy under the tree gets conked in the head.

As a side note, baking makes one dirty (yes, and even though I know what kind of people will be reading this post, I leave that statement as it stands. XDD)


Because the German custom is to eat everything on the plate, I have these three steps for surviving gross bits:

1) Try everything on the plate first, so you can save the best for last to cover up the gross stuff.

2) chew in the side of the mouth, and swallow quickly, allowing the food to touch the tongue as little as possible.

3) Brot. Weiß Brot und Wasser. Oooh yeah. Together they can disguise almost anything.


'Good Job! You're a Clean Plater!' Yeah, thx for nothing, Herr Flinstone.

In other news, if I thought talking politics in English was hard... )


One last funny but insignificant trivia: Juliana and her sister-in-law are/were extras in the movie Liebe in September. Wow, the whole family gathering was watching the movie quietly, and then suddenly an outburst like fußball fans at a score every time one of them came on the screen. The back of Juliana's head is famous.



Okay I lied, more trivia: the same way that a sneeze in Japan (or your ears burning in English) means someone's talking about you, hiccups mean your mother is thinking about you. Mom, seriously, cut it out.
kindigo: (onoz)
'The Amusing Conversation Re: English Words In German.'
Cut for Crude Language. (Promising start.) )

An annoying German custom is that, upon entering a room full of people, EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM must recieve a handshake and greeting before you can sit down. What the hell. *hides*

There's a passage in Pterry describing noon in Ankh-Morprok- the particular quality of many, many churches, all with their own version of 12:00, ringing the hour. Something similar occurs here (only without Old Tom's great tolling silences, unfortunately.) It's lie that, until only one solemm bell is tolling out the hour, five minutes after the first started. And they're supposed to be accurate clockmakers around here. Maybe we're too far from Switzerland. You can't really imagine the cacophony involved in four or five little town church belss bouncing throught the mountains, and I can't see why you would want to. Thankfully it only seems to happen on Saturdays (search me. No clue).

In other news, I saw a girl with a HanaKimi bag at school. YES!! There are otaku in the building! Now I just have to track her down again (she's not in my class) and hope she understands Gesticulate.

I would have much to say on the subject of assigned seating and the Sun. In. My. Eyes. However Aaaargh pretty much sums it up.

Also: AP Lit-ers, you won't believe what's in my Deutsche book: "Der Tod des Handlungsreisenden." For those of you who don't spreche die Muttersprache, I was flipping through when suddenly I saw

WILLY springt zurück, schreit: Ha! Howard! Howard! Howard!
HOWARD: Was ist los?
WILLY: Stellen Sie das ab! Stellen Sie das ab!
HOWARD: Hören Sie, Willy...
WILLY: Ich brauch 'n Kaffee. Ich brauch 'n Kaffee.


Luckily it's only an excerpt, because as much as I liked the play and as much as the movie amused me, I don't want to go through it again! (There is also 'Romeo and Julia' in the book. lolz.)


Today:
I am amazed at the deutsche kids. We were supposed to be looking at this one website in class, and-- now, I know for some of you this may be hard to hear, if you're a sensitive person you may not want to read such a horrible thing, and I know it will be hard to believe but it's true, true I tell you-- they all actually were. No extraneous windows at all. No, really, it's true. And the worst, nay, the most frightening thing of all is that the oppressive aura of this proper-and-rule-abiding country has its own morphogenic field affecting me so that verily, neither did I.

Don't judge me. I am not grotesque! Please try to overcome your horror, okay? (Actually it was more because I was afraid the teacher was monitoring my screen with his mad Vulcan Mind-Meld™ Brainwashing technique Big-Brother-esque connection program Of Doom.




You will be assimilated. Resistance is useless.

*runs from the Borg*

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