…wreacking havoc. I have to blog this in english, thats part of my commitment to bring some culture to those fucking Texans. But I’ll start from the beginning.
Once i thought, i’d had a friend with LexaT, though he uses to humiliate me on- and offline. I believed in him, nevertheless, i had the true opinion, deep in his heart, he’s a good guy. I did so until Monday.
I arrived to work as i usually do, happy, motivated, willing to improve the world. And then LexaT asked me if i could use some holiday. I said, thats his decision, and he said, well, it is. We have this damned yankee, and she wants to visit Cologne and the Dome, and as well some southern german towns, so take her to Tuebingen, you studied there, its said to be pretty, and after noon you’re on holiday until Thursday.
That was that. And yes, we went on our journey, and it brought me to the deepest precipices of desperation.
I had to travel to cologne with her first, we visited the dome and i actually knew more religious vocabulary in english than she did (i had to explain „transubstantiation „). I used to trust in american fundamentalism, but you can’t bet on that. Believe me.
OK, we went further on to Tuebingen, after we had one happy moment: we do not only take the same medicals, we both like gargoyles too. Everything else: total catastrophe. She hates Pink Floyd, she hates the Doors, she hates KMFDM (as i found out later) and she disgusted when i was smoking. Imagine a blonde, aryan looking texan woman telling you that you’re a fool to smoke and that you’re listening to shitty music. And you have to give *this* woman some tourist trip, information, culture, stuff and so on. I even had to look for a place to sleep for her, though everything was, well, very spontaneous and everything should stay relaxed.
Well, it didn’t. We arrived in Tuebingen, it was dark, raining and i contacted brutzel, a friend of mine, and we met at the train station. He was trying to get us a place to sleep at an ex-Fraternity where he used to live. Luckily enough, he really managed to do so. After some walking in the rain, from closed hotel number one to closed hotel number two and so on.
 Picture: Yankee desecrating the Statue of Graf Eberhard im Bart, Founder of the University of Tuebingen |
The following two days were some kind of collage of „I’m thirsty“, „I need some non-sparkling water“, „My stomach hurts“, „Thats not a pretty part of the town. Why are we here?“, „Shut the fuck up“, „I’d like to meet Boris again, he’s nice“, „I have to repack my backpack“, „I’m hungry“, „I don’t know what to order“, „It’s cold“, „My trousers get wet“, „Can you get me the recipe of those Maultaschen?“ and so on and so on.
Everything was quite difficult. I think i managed it somehow, but when we went back to Bochum, there was this stop in Stuttgart, where i thought, ok, thats a different culture. We may use the same drugs, we may be interested in SEO, and (as we found out) we even have both an agricultural background. But we went to the old castle in Stuttgart and she did this:
There are people with no respect for anything. I met one of those. They come from Texas, and don’t trust their green eyes and neither trust their blonde hair.
Du haettest wenigstens versuchen koennen, diese texanische Terroristin aufzuhalten!
(Was auch immer sie gerade macht. *nichterkenn* Aber die Innere Sicherheit ist offensichtlich ernsthaft gefaehrdet!)
Damn Yankees. Can’t have them around. Can’t shoot them.
Was bitte versucht die Junge Dame da auf dem Bild bitte?
Kann sie nicht jemanden bitten das ein Foto zu schießen, oder warum stellt Sie das Ding nicht auf den Sockel?
Klick aufs Bild vergroessert. Sie hat einen wirklich praktischen, flexiblen Dreibeiner fuer ihre Kamera, mit der man die Kiste stellen, haengen oder anbringen kann, wie man eben mag. Im konkreten Fall gings um ein Selbstausloeserbild im Hof des alten Schlosses in Stuttgart. Das wurd auch fein, aber ich hatte es bisher nur auf der cam gesehen, ich lass es mir aber bei gelegenheit zumailen.
Korrupt, charming as we love and cherish him. But honestly, was there ever any woman who didn’t nag the whole time and just wouldn’t shut the fuck up?
Re: “transubstantiation
Considering the fact that your source for this information was „Godfather II“, I wouldn’t brag so much about knowing it.
Funny road trip you had there.
Some minor nitpicks: As a texan, she’d be a protestant, and they don’t know a thing about transubstantiation. Even the lutherans do not have this concept, and most other protestants ditched the concept completely. The thingie she is putting on the leg of ol’Eb’s horse is a GorillaPod (the larger variant), it’s said to be a real cool tool (or toy, as you like it). You can even buy those in Germany. And if you had given her the recipe for those Maultaschen and told her you really like those hand rolled Taeschle just as Grandma did them, she would’ve been busy preparing them for the rest of the week (weil, so sagen Leute, die das schonmal gemacht haben, Maultaschen rollen eine üble Aktion größeren Umfangs ist).
I’d accept Chris‘ excusing her with this protestant thing if my source would *not* be Godfather 2. Its one thing not being interested in this catholic nonsense, but not knowing godfather 1 and 2 should be considered as a deadly sin.
Damn Yankees, can’t live with them, pass the beer nuts.
Well, i don’t know either Godfather 1 nor Godfather 2, but i do know that „rolled maultaschen“ are by far the most deadly sin there is! If you’re making them rolled,
you’re a lazy, incompetent, uneducated shmock and your license to reproduce should be revoked immediately! Maultaschen have to be folded and that’s just that!
Hey. Meine Großmutter hat Maultaschen gerollt. Und die waren der Inbegriff der Köstlichkeit, die kulinarische Quintessenz allen Schwäbischen, ein himmlischer, um nicht zu sagen göttlicher Genuss und wurden mit größter Hingabe, Fleiß und Fachkompetenz gefertigt. Kein böses Wort über die Maultaschen meiner Großmutter!