Monday, March 22, 2010

nennen sie mich auspumpenkröte

Let it be known that I despise winter. I can deal with a dry heat, a wet heat, a wet warmth, a damp chill, a moist sock, or anything resembling the above. Three things I can’t manage: Centigrade, Wind, Cold. And this place has all fucking three of them:

Oh, and it has a guy playing an accordion at a subway station under one of the most popular tourist hotels in the city. When you tip him a euro, he demands two more. I recommend not paying him further—he won’t understand any of your requests and he will show you what he has for lunch. A good beggar shows you NOTHING at this point.

Oh, it also has very efficient trains, so when you lie to him and tell him you have to leave to go to Aying, he’ll (correctly) inform you that you have at least four minutes (and still two Euros) to kill. Ignore him and board the train.

Walk aimlessly around a small village following the flow of traffic. Spot one of your favorite breweries on the planet.

Enjoy the veal sausage, three profound beers, and the charm of families flowing in and out with their well behaved children/pets. Smile and tell the kids that you don’t “sprechen sie deutsch.“ Tip like the foreigner you are and head back to the city for some more fun. Forget your camera.

Posted by Pooptoad on 03/22 at 11:51 PM
(12000) CommentsPermalink

Heard a good one the other day.

A toad walks out of the airport in Rzeszów and picks up his rental car.

And then he realizes he’s painted onto a goddamned canvas and can’t possibly steer the thing. And also, his suitcase is filled with himself and not money. A downgrade is in order.

That’s more like it. It’s at this point that I curse my owner, who only managed to take pictures of me indoors or in the snowy evenings of this fine nation. Case in point:

I had a feeling you guys expected more from my first international journey. Sigh.. What a moron.

Posted by Pooptoad on 03/22 at 08:10 PM
(895) CommentsPermalink
Page 1 of 1 pages