Cannibalistic shills #2
At this time two years ago my brother made the trip across the Atlantic to get some boar goulash. We rode the cablecar to the top of Vogel and followed the signs:
I’m all in favor of wild pigs enjoying a beer now and then, and even grabbing two at a time when the bar’s crowded, but when they tuck in to a bowl of gulaš made with their own flesh, well, that’s where I have to draw the line.
A few days later, after my brother’s enthusiasm for Laško beer had reached a fever pitch, we made a day-trip to the Laško brewery. We completely fucked it up, though, in terms of tour times and so on, and returned without so much as a T-shirt (or a beer). We did have lunch in Laško, though, and I think I entertained my brother more during that meal than at any other time in our lives by ordering an omelette filled with brains. At the time, the word možgani was not in my vocabulary. Now it is, and I will not be ordering any more brain-stuffed dishes, not even if it makes my brother shoot beer out of his nose.
Cross reference this post to Self-referential coffee pot and Is that Borkum Riff you’re smoking, Cap’n?
What does Zarojstni Dan Iskerene Cestitke mean? I’m thinking something along the lines of “Happy Birthday”
Comment by Airdna — Thursday 25 August 05 @ 03.38 MDT+2.00
Now I simply must protest. You make it sound like it’s hard to make beer shoot out of our brother’s nose. Well, in truth, I have never done it with beer, but with milk, too many times to count.
Comment by gaoo — Thursday 25 August 05 @ 03.46 MDT+2.00
You are correct, Airdna. To be exact, it means “Sincere congratulations on your birthday.” And gaoo, you should know that milk is child’s play compared to the burning carbonation of continental lager shooting out of one’s brother’s nose.
Comment by sgazzetti — Wednesday 31 August 05 @ 10.24 MDT+2.00