Well, I just got back from our rafting trip. Me and the boys from the Vinotech rented us a raft and went from High Point to Golden Crown, or that was the plan. Seems the river was up by about three inches and everybody was all in a panic about it. So, we went for one day instead of three also due to a mix up in communications. Somebody figured 4 days meant three days and somebody else figured it only meant two days even though we had all marked it on the calendar back in January. And then 6am worked out in real life to be 1 pm. But that's just how things is ran over here. You gotta get used to it or go crazy as a mule with a hornet in his ear.
Well, we got in the water on a raft because they wouldn't allow no canoes on the river. We came to the first place you could make out some waves and there was a dam with a sliding board thing to go down. There was a sizeable wave at the bottom. Well, we had to stop and go around because it might be dangerous or somebody might get splashed or some such nonsense. Reminds me of back home. There was a place on Possum Belly River called Willy's Wash. We used to go down it in inner tubes until them city folk came along in kayuks and neatoprine suits. They called it a class 6, but we'd been doing it since we was in the 3rd grade. The slickers thought it was called Willy's Wash because it was like a washing machine, but it was really cause it only had water a couple of times a year, about the same as Willy took a bath.
So after a few miles and a few beers we was getting used to laying back and rafting and watching the scenery. Sometimes it'd be nature and other times old towns. It was pretty relaxing.
Then we got to the “camp” which is something like the infield of the Kentucky derby with tents. They hoot and Holler all night long and the drunks fall on your tent and wake you up and it gets annoying after awhile if you're too sober. There ain't no camping around these parts, just in these corrals they call autokemps.
I gave up talking in Czech in the concession stand. I tried to constanant my way through it, but they always smiled and gargled back at me in German. So I just let loose and ordered in English. I think they prefer it that way anyhow. It makes 'em proud to be able to holler out,”Number 95, your smazeny syr is ready.” Besides, If I'm going to get talked at in a strange language I at least want it to be one I'm familiar with.
Why do they think I'm a german anyway! I ain't wearing no leatherhoses!
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Monday, June 8, 2009
Crock of it hunters
A just saw a real knee slapper today. The circus is coming to town and the croc hunters are going to be there! Just, I ain't too sure about these fellers, cause if they think they're wrestling crocs, well, I been in the swamps and these ain't crocs!!
Friday, June 5, 2009
I've seen it all
The czechs like to do things their own way and it ain't no use to tell them different.
Just don't even try to tell them there might be a better way. And i respect that. If it works for you, then so be it. It ain't a strangers place to go around telling folks how to do stuff. That's a lesson a lot of them exfrats need to learn right quick.
BUT, today i was sorely tempted. There was a young Honzicek standing outside the supermarket with a dreamsicle looking thing
Now, Little Honzicek was holding the ice cream part and licking the stick. I swear I ain't making this up. I wish i'd a had my camera cause I think I could have sold that picture.
Just don't even try to tell them there might be a better way. And i respect that. If it works for you, then so be it. It ain't a strangers place to go around telling folks how to do stuff. That's a lesson a lot of them exfrats need to learn right quick.
BUT, today i was sorely tempted. There was a young Honzicek standing outside the supermarket with a dreamsicle looking thing
Now, Little Honzicek was holding the ice cream part and licking the stick. I swear I ain't making this up. I wish i'd a had my camera cause I think I could have sold that picture.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
The Hour of Truth
There's this TV show on over here called Hodin Prava, or Hour of truth. Basically what they do is go to some poor person with gob loads of little rug rats running around and offer to give them a wagon load of new stuff like computers, cars, kitchens, bikes, and toys. So the wife and kid get all excited and then they tell the feller that all he has to do to win it is learn to do something near impossible and they give him a week to learn it, all the while his woman and kids is filming him failing time after time and then everybody laughs at him.
Now, I just don't get what makes people watch this here kind of show. I mean do folks really think it's right? Now you can't tell me the people watch it to cheer the poor feller on anymore than you can tell me people go to the figure 8 races to hope there's no crash. What kind of evil person likes to see kids cry, dreams crushed like a Bud-Lite can, and fellers humiliated?
So, ol' Honza had to learn how to ride a unicycle while juggling and singing that song from the Opera, Kill the wabbit. The haul the whole klan out on the stage and show them the prizes and the kids all go crazy dreaming of all them pretty new toys and the Missus that new dishwasher and washing machine.
The host goes up to the little one and says, “Hey there little Drubezinka, look what you can have if your Pa can just do this one little task. Then they give the poor guy about 2 minutes to do it in and of course he can't. Then little drubezinka is all bawling and everybody hates Honza. Sure they try to say, “Oh, that's ok Pa, we know you tried. But they is really saying what a loser he is.
I reckon families stay together about two months after one of these shows before Mrs. Honza finds herself a non-loser and the kids migrate with her and ol' Honza starts living in the hospoda drinking his bread. He loses his job and becomes homeless.
Now, I just don't get what makes people watch this here kind of show. I mean do folks really think it's right? Now you can't tell me the people watch it to cheer the poor feller on anymore than you can tell me people go to the figure 8 races to hope there's no crash. What kind of evil person likes to see kids cry, dreams crushed like a Bud-Lite can, and fellers humiliated?
So, ol' Honza had to learn how to ride a unicycle while juggling and singing that song from the Opera, Kill the wabbit. The haul the whole klan out on the stage and show them the prizes and the kids all go crazy dreaming of all them pretty new toys and the Missus that new dishwasher and washing machine.
The host goes up to the little one and says, “Hey there little Drubezinka, look what you can have if your Pa can just do this one little task. Then they give the poor guy about 2 minutes to do it in and of course he can't. Then little drubezinka is all bawling and everybody hates Honza. Sure they try to say, “Oh, that's ok Pa, we know you tried. But they is really saying what a loser he is.
I reckon families stay together about two months after one of these shows before Mrs. Honza finds herself a non-loser and the kids migrate with her and ol' Honza starts living in the hospoda drinking his bread. He loses his job and becomes homeless.
INDY!!!!!!
Dang it, I get sad stuck over here on Indy day. I miss barbequing and drinking ice cold beer and hearing the race in English. But this year there is a chance I might just pick it up in English, I won't know until after Gomer sings, but it's a chance.
You all enjoy the race! I am.
You all enjoy the race! I am.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Mutants and gimpls.
I was walking to the shop the other morning and a group of "Mutants" tried to beg money from me. They was sure dressed funny, but I don't believe they had any superpowers.
I finally got it across that they needed to speak English and they did. It went something like this:
"We need money."
"What for, you all homeless?
"No! We're maturitants." ( that must mean mutant in English.)
"You all got superpowers?"
"What?"
"Can you climb walls or make storms?"
"No! We're gimpals!"
(Now I felt bad. I didn't mean to hurt their feelings none. I knew some gimps from the Carnies back home and they was decent enough folks if you gave them half a chance.)
"Well, you look all right to me, but if you all is Gimps, then I reckon I can spare a few koruny."
"thank you!"
Then they went off begging for more money. This country is going downhill. There used to be medical care for all and they kept the gimps and mutants off the streets!
I finally got it across that they needed to speak English and they did. It went something like this:
"We need money."
"What for, you all homeless?
"No! We're maturitants." ( that must mean mutant in English.)
"You all got superpowers?"
"What?"
"Can you climb walls or make storms?"
"No! We're gimpals!"
(Now I felt bad. I didn't mean to hurt their feelings none. I knew some gimps from the Carnies back home and they was decent enough folks if you gave them half a chance.)
"Well, you look all right to me, but if you all is Gimps, then I reckon I can spare a few koruny."
"thank you!"
Then they went off begging for more money. This country is going downhill. There used to be medical care for all and they kept the gimps and mutants off the streets!
Sunday, May 17, 2009
A new guest poster
I have a new guest speaker who might or might not be making some posts on here. This is the first one. Welcome Mr. BH!
Well, I was reading one of the local expat sites and there was actually a good thread on there and it wasn't deleted or sent to the hidden areas. It was about the first wave of expats to land here. And even more surprising were the number of well thought out posts on that thread. It actually captured a mood. Reminds me of the end of Fear and Loathing,were he talks about being in Frisco in the 60's and how it was.
You had to be there and it was a special time. A time I was proud to be a part of. It was a time of hope. It was a time were anything was possible and it was a time of unbelievable bullshit. The west bank of the 90's etc... artist heaven, etc... utter crap!
But what wasn't crap was the optimism. The commies were gone and for a few years, it was great. I can't think of anywhere else in the world I'd have rather been. I got out of Prague rather quickly, because the bullshit was concentrated there, not to say everyone was full of shit, but the ones who were hung out in Prague and I just couldn't handle them!
I love it when some stupid little punk fresh off the plane ready to tell me all about the czech republic and how wonderful it is calls me bitter. "Oh man, it's great! Everything is wonderful and beautiful here! blah blah blah" I just think to myself, "I see the Ignorance is Bliss Foundation has a new poster child."
I am bitter for a reason. I saw what could have been and is now lost forever.
PS: I remember the waterbed man! Ubiquities, Pragnosis, no orange juice and the cops being really cool. They were almost sorry they were cops and went out of their way to be helpful. I met some cool people then and often wonder what happened to them. Some of them were on the fringe and I hope they aren't laying in a casket with scars on their wrists or bouncing off the white rubber walls in their white room.
Well, I was reading one of the local expat sites and there was actually a good thread on there and it wasn't deleted or sent to the hidden areas. It was about the first wave of expats to land here. And even more surprising were the number of well thought out posts on that thread. It actually captured a mood. Reminds me of the end of Fear and Loathing,were he talks about being in Frisco in the 60's and how it was.
You had to be there and it was a special time. A time I was proud to be a part of. It was a time of hope. It was a time were anything was possible and it was a time of unbelievable bullshit. The west bank of the 90's etc... artist heaven, etc... utter crap!
But what wasn't crap was the optimism. The commies were gone and for a few years, it was great. I can't think of anywhere else in the world I'd have rather been. I got out of Prague rather quickly, because the bullshit was concentrated there, not to say everyone was full of shit, but the ones who were hung out in Prague and I just couldn't handle them!
I love it when some stupid little punk fresh off the plane ready to tell me all about the czech republic and how wonderful it is calls me bitter. "Oh man, it's great! Everything is wonderful and beautiful here! blah blah blah" I just think to myself, "I see the Ignorance is Bliss Foundation has a new poster child."
I am bitter for a reason. I saw what could have been and is now lost forever.
PS: I remember the waterbed man! Ubiquities, Pragnosis, no orange juice and the cops being really cool. They were almost sorry they were cops and went out of their way to be helpful. I met some cool people then and often wonder what happened to them. Some of them were on the fringe and I hope they aren't laying in a casket with scars on their wrists or bouncing off the white rubber walls in their white room.
Friday, May 15, 2009
Why I ain't voting for you!
I don't care what you stand for nor do I give a darn what party you is in. I ain't voting for you. You ruined my day and I'd as soon kick you as meet you.
I was coming home with my bags full of groceries and beer. Had the beer in my backpack. Well, I open my mailbox and two papers go fluttering to the ground. Then the wind catches them and i have to chase them down. Then I almost catch them and they just take off again. I finally corner them and bend over to pick them up. Then my beer slid out of my pack and broke all over the pavement.
All I seen was your grinning goober face looking up at me almost like you was laughing. No sir, I don't give a darn who you are, I ain't voting for you.
I was coming home with my bags full of groceries and beer. Had the beer in my backpack. Well, I open my mailbox and two papers go fluttering to the ground. Then the wind catches them and i have to chase them down. Then I almost catch them and they just take off again. I finally corner them and bend over to pick them up. Then my beer slid out of my pack and broke all over the pavement.
All I seen was your grinning goober face looking up at me almost like you was laughing. No sir, I don't give a darn who you are, I ain't voting for you.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Babi Yaga
Every village has a 'Yaga” this is a title of enlightenment. (No, she's not lit up, it means she's seen the light so to speak.) Big cities are full of these “Yagas” but they ain't so easy to spot and you never know who they are, but in the village people always talk about who is the Babi Yaga.
In Yoga they have Yogis, which are the masters, or teachers. (no, they don't steal picnic baskets!) Well, over here they have the Yagas. The grammar is weird here, but it ain't got nothing to do with yoga. It's some kind of Czech religion thing.
The Yaga is all knowing and she ain't afraid to tell you how you should be living and what you're doing wrong. Now, just because the Yaga is a title of respect, you should never approach one and use the title. For example: “Hello Babi Yaga, I need some advice,” would be considered rude. Better to wait until she offers the advice freely. It may be fine to use the Babi part of the name, but the Yaga part is never to be used in the presence of the holy Yaga. Although when she ain't around people use the title a lot.
In Yoga they have Yogis, which are the masters, or teachers. (no, they don't steal picnic baskets!) Well, over here they have the Yagas. The grammar is weird here, but it ain't got nothing to do with yoga. It's some kind of Czech religion thing.
The Yaga is all knowing and she ain't afraid to tell you how you should be living and what you're doing wrong. Now, just because the Yaga is a title of respect, you should never approach one and use the title. For example: “Hello Babi Yaga, I need some advice,” would be considered rude. Better to wait until she offers the advice freely. It may be fine to use the Babi part of the name, but the Yaga part is never to be used in the presence of the holy Yaga. Although when she ain't around people use the title a lot.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
a very sad day, no moto GP on eurosport
I am in mourning. My favorite sport broadcast by the best announcing team ever assembled is no more. Moto Gp is no longer on eurosport just BBC and those guys don't know their ass from a hole in the ground!
I am seriously heartbroken.
here are two petition links, please sign them!
http://www.gopetition.com/petitions/keep-eurosport-motogp-coverage.html
http://www.petitiononline.com/RCV212V4/petition.html
I am seriously heartbroken.
here are two petition links, please sign them!
http://www.gopetition.com/petitions/keep-eurosport-motogp-coverage.html
http://www.petitiononline.com/RCV212V4/petition.html
Saturday, February 28, 2009
eatting tonsils
Well, this place never ceases to amaze me! I was sitting in the local restaurant having a beer and some goolosh with dumplings. There was this family sitting behind me and I couldn't help overhearing the following (I've translated it into English)
Father: What do you mean you don't want no tonsils? You said you wanted tonsils and you got them!
Honzicek: I don't want them, I don't want no tonsils! I don't like them!
Father: I paid for them tonsils and now you have to have them!
(Ok, I was getting confused here. You can buy tonsils? How do you put them back in?)
Honzicek: But dad, I don't like tonsils!
Father: Those are your tonsils, they've been salted and they're warm, so you are going to eat them and eat them now!
(My eyes most near popped out of my head at this point!! He's going to make that kid eat his tonsils!
Now, I've seen some strange things, but this one tops them all! But I don't want to be no ignorant foreigner, so I just sit there and drink my beer and eat my goolosh sandwiches. They are a bit messy though.)
Honzicek: But dad, I don't want to eat no salted tonsils, I wanted my tonsils without salt!
Father: Well, fine, I'll eat your tonsils and you just drink your coughola and shut up!
I'm just spechless and still don't know what to say.
Father: What do you mean you don't want no tonsils? You said you wanted tonsils and you got them!
Honzicek: I don't want them, I don't want no tonsils! I don't like them!
Father: I paid for them tonsils and now you have to have them!
(Ok, I was getting confused here. You can buy tonsils? How do you put them back in?)
Honzicek: But dad, I don't like tonsils!
Father: Those are your tonsils, they've been salted and they're warm, so you are going to eat them and eat them now!
(My eyes most near popped out of my head at this point!! He's going to make that kid eat his tonsils!
Now, I've seen some strange things, but this one tops them all! But I don't want to be no ignorant foreigner, so I just sit there and drink my beer and eat my goolosh sandwiches. They are a bit messy though.)
Honzicek: But dad, I don't want to eat no salted tonsils, I wanted my tonsils without salt!
Father: Well, fine, I'll eat your tonsils and you just drink your coughola and shut up!
I'm just spechless and still don't know what to say.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Australia
Hi to all my mates down under. My thoughts and best wishes are with every one of you.
If you read this, please check in. Just a simple OK will be enough.
If you read this, please check in. Just a simple OK will be enough.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
I caught three taggers
The other night I was walking home and I saw these "taggers" writing their names on buildings! There were three of them and they were wearing disguises, but I followed 'em around for a bit and they was just going around puting their "tags" on all sorts of buildings.
( A tagger is like a human dog. They go around all over the place and instead of hiking their legs, they make a mark showing they done been there. It's like that grafeety, but it's only a sign, not a picture or nothing. And it ain't like mail pouch neither, it's only a little one, but they'll do it anywhere.)
So these three fellers kept at it and I snuck up on 'em and whopped 'em upside the head and then called the police and left cause, well, I was just being a good citizen and didn't want no reward or nothing.
( A tagger is like a human dog. They go around all over the place and instead of hiking their legs, they make a mark showing they done been there. It's like that grafeety, but it's only a sign, not a picture or nothing. And it ain't like mail pouch neither, it's only a little one, but they'll do it anywhere.)
So these three fellers kept at it and I snuck up on 'em and whopped 'em upside the head and then called the police and left cause, well, I was just being a good citizen and didn't want no reward or nothing.
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