Putting the Carcass in Carcassonne

What a strange point in life to be at- I want it to pass.

Und noch eine Nachricht für RALPH aka rabebl-ich finde deine andere Emailadresse nicht, und die Uni-Adresse geht nicht mehr. Bitte melde dich bei mir- catrin.berghoff*at*gmail.com, oder ruf mich bei meinen Eltern an falls du die Telefonnummer noch hast. Ich wuerde mich gerne mal wieder mit dir treffen.

The Olde Countrz

Iäm going to go nuts with those screwed up kezboards here one daz.

Observations:

1. The German name of "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?", "Wer wird Millionär?", translates to "Who will be Millionaire?". This is obviously better. I mean, what a retarded question- of course, everybody wants to be millionaire.

2. That same show is hosted by a very successful and smart serious journalist, Günter Jauch. He's a bit funny looking, with a mean sense of humour. When candidates don't know answers, he makes fun of them, especially if he thinks the question is easy. If he likes a candidate, he'll help that person quite openly. And if he thinks a candidate is boring, then he makes faces into the camera. No wonder that show still draws huge audiences! In short: German TV>North American TV.

3. There cigarette smoke. Everywhere. The day after I arrived, parliament tried to pass a federal smoking ban in all restaurants. A few days later, it was withdrawn- apparently, there were constitutional worries. You know, I tend to be of the very liberal sort when it comes to that sort of thing, but it still really sucks.

4. The horridly expensive internet is running out. More later.

You've crossed a line there, Garth Turner.

Who the fuck told you it was ok to come on to my boyfriend in such a shameless manner?

It's on.

Shocking Revelations About Irwin's REAL Cause of Death!

Yep. T'was the mummy.

Now I know what "MSc" stands for!

Clearly, my graduate degree is preparing me for a career as an instant and packaged soup taste tester, as no one else alive could possibly be eating as many of those as I do without getting paid for it.

Hence, Master of Soup Cuisine.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Oh, God, was that ever lame. I guess the only way I could possibly convince any of you to ever come back to this blog is to use my secret weapon.

So, here it is: very soon, on this very blog, you will be able to enjoy a homemade video of Astro Boy giving a lap dance to Little Red Riding Hood.

If that doesn't make you come back, well, then I don't want to know you any more.

I totally win.

This is me, Samantha.