Posts Tagged ‘germany’

A Blast from the Past… Again: the KKK

I recently took a trip in my time machine and was able to recover another remarkable relic from the year 2005. Adding this to the repertoire of entries will help expand your horizons, so that you may come to understand how historically rooted is this mode of communication…

Oxford, 2005

"Hello to all you birds and blokes from the right good Mr. Blair and his American chum, Andrew 'the Fraus want to squeeze his rumpus' Talbert,

I truly desired to end this e-mail at the intro, but a greater desire burns within me to divulge the happenings of the last few weeks. With that said, I must explain my address to you folks on the mainland. I have ventured across the channel and am currently residing in Oxford with my cousin, Franklin. You must, therefore, read this letter in a Cockney accent to the best of your individual abilities, because I have labored in the same manner. Whether out loud or in your heads is a matter of personal preference- either way I do not care. Now, let us look back over the past several weeks and try to salvage memories worth slathering on this paper.

This past week I was invited by my Korean friend David to partake in a delicious meal prepared by several of his Korean lady friends. I traversed through Mannheim with two other Americans and my main man, Dag, for the experience. After a select malt beverage, the ladies brought out a meal that I was to struggle with for the next two days. They unloaded 3 pans of chicken and onions with red pepper and rice. I estimate the quantity of meat prepared was roughly 12 pounds, with an additional 4 pounds of onions, and 9 pounds of red pepper all together. I am unsure of its proper name in Korean, so I referred to it as peener choi and later as “the afterburner,” but I will explain that in a moment. We handled the first plate without difficulty, the second slowed us a bit, but we managed to take care of business. It was at the third and spiciest round that we confronted an insurmountable task. Despite being quite full I found myself continuing to cram vast quantities of this delicacy into my facial orifice (I use the qualifier facial because I know that some of you with sick minds would have imagined otherwise). I find myself utterly merciless when confronted by the kindness of Asian women, as Hiroki can inform you of the night that I ate all of their food because of the insistence of his mother, but I digress. I assured myself out loud that I would finish all that they laid before me, and was challenged by one friend, Matt, to do so. Even Dag, the man who eats so voraciously and with such commitment that I am surprised he has managed to keep all ten digits without one falling as a casualty of mastication, surrendered to the overwhelming number of fowl that had been slaughtered for our enjoyment. I reminded myself that, though my stomach and intestines were at maximum capacity, I still had the entire length of my esophagus up to my larynx to fill until I would succumb to asphyxiation. Fortunately, David informed me that I needn’t eat anymore, as the others had already retired, and Matt retracted his former challenge, and quickly took my plate to the kitchen so that he wouldn’t have to take me to the hospital. I leaned back and breathed heavily, contracting my stomach muscles in the hopes of holding my internal organs together, that they would not burst. My relief soon turned to fear as the ladies brought out two trays of sliced fruit. I sat in helpless terror as my hand reached for several pieces of pineapple, placed said fruit into my mouth, and my jaw began working contrary to the desires of my mind…

The following day I met with David to help him install some light fixtures in his apartment. The Ikea store was some distance from his place, so we had to catch a Strassenbahn to a bus station and then a bus to the store- a total journey of about 6000 miles. As we rode on the Strassenbahn, however, I felt deep and painful cramps surging in my stomach, but I figured that it was simply gas and that it would pass with time. At the bus stop, however, I realized I was wrong in the worst kind of way... I have, therefore, termed my experience the Korean kaka katasrophe- better known as the KKK. I asked David to watch my bag and ran into the bathroom there at the stop. Now, as a disclaimer, the Germans are typically associated with cleanliness on a level that is unfamiliar to most Americans, and I have experienced their cleanliness first-hand, but it has since became quite apparent that the Germans have a dirty side, and they managed to fit all of their filth into this single restroom. I kicked open the first stall door only to see a moderately clean toilet without a seat. I slammed my shoulder into the next stall only to discover that it had been sealed shut for some unknown reason. I ran back to the first stall and decided to chance it, but after a quick glance I noticed that the stall was entirely devoid of toilet paper. The holes on the wall indicated to me that there had at one time been a toilet paper holder, but apparently this bathroom was a meeting place for pour souls with the angriest of bowels, and the last man there must have ripped it out of the wall as he grasped at the nearest object to aid him in riding out the storm. The toilet paper, however, was an absolute necessity. So, I peeked over my stall into the sealed stall to see where there had formerly been a toilet there was now a variety of liquor bottles, mostly Jägermeister, and other trash strewn about the cubicle. Apparently, it seemed prudent to some passing welder to seal the room shut, rather than install a new toilet and clean up the mess. Amongst all the refuse I noticed a grand object: Kleenex toilet paper. I climbed from my toilet into the next stall, grabbed the paper and scurried back over to my toilet in great desperation… I finished my business and found there was no sink for me to wash my hands. So, I exited the bathroom and resolved to wash my hands when I made it to Ikea, but in all honesty, it never happened."

I have no regrets.