Screeching Is The New Singing

At JT's German Adventure, we try to bring you the best in the worst of entertainment. And Yoko Ono has, once again, stepped up to the plate. Wow. Just, wow. I guess this explains why John Lennon's will requested that he be buried with his ears plugged. With lead.

Word of the Month: Trenting

With tasty stout lurking around every corner, roads narrower than many sidewalks and all (legal) driving been done Bizarro-world fashion on the left, Ireland is basically a verdant island of entrapment for DUIs. This makes it crucial for all conscientious travelers to have a DD. But if your main candidate* weasels out of driving, what can you do?

Answer: you trent like there's no tomorrow. As soon as the car stops in the vicinity of a pub, you race to get your pint**, ensuring that the driving duties fall to the other Hertz-approved driver.

So, why is it called trenting? Several years ago, an acquaintance was scheduled to drive to an ultimate tournament at 6 a.m. one Saturday morning. He had stayed out late at the LL Cool J*** concert and so wanted to sleep on the 4 hour drive, but promised to drive the return leg that night. Cut to the semi-finals, and I find my acquaintance, on the sidelines, holding two beers while his team struggled to reach the finals. When I ask why he's drinking and not playing, he replies, "I don't want to drive home, so if I'm too drunk, I don't have to." In his (admittedly lame) defence, he did add that he didn't think his team would win and so that made it ok. The acquaintance's name? If you guessed Trent, you win a prize!

In the interest of his anonymity, I won't give his last name online. But if you buy me a beer early enough in the evening so I don't have to drive home, I will tell you his last name :)


* Let's call her Meryl K., no, too obvious, we'll go with M. Kusyk
** The mental strain of driving on the wrong side means that one pint is enough to pass the keys.
*** Yes, we mocked him for this.

Fun With Photos - Bovine Edition

I like how the cow in the foreground is trying to act like it is grazing while it's really watching the attempt at a rectal exam in front it.

I should also mention that 10 seconds later Franzi said, "Look, they're playing!" and we had to inform her that they weren't trying to play leapfrog.

The Truth About The Sports Guy

Thank God that Kenny Mayne's hard-hitting investigative journalism can show us the truth behind the columnist/podcastist.

The Secret of A-Rod's Success

Everyone wonders why A-Rod is finally successful in the off-season. The reason is devilishly clever: during A-Rod's steroid suspension hip rehabilitation, manager Joe Girardi merely changed all calendars in the Yankee organization to the Julian calendar. A-Rod now thinks that it's November 9 and that he's playing in a off-season league for HGH test subjects.

How did he discover this strategy? It's also how Obama managed to prevent the Democratic party from losing the election for him -- their strategists all thought they had at least another 10 days to start running their "Palin IS Qualified" ads.

Jewelry For The Sensitive Lothario

Talk about your niche product -- marketed toward people that are emotionally open AND have multiple lovers. But, hey, you've gotta give them props for knowing their target market.

Dropping Il Duce*

One of the annoyances/highlights of my first year in Germany was dealing with pretentious Germans (definitely a minority, most sympathized with my plight) that personally attacked me for the actions of my (ugh) President. These jackholes apparently saw no irony whatsoever in blaming me for the actions of an elected official that I didn't even vote for. I would let the deutschbags drone on for a bit, give them a few outs, and if they didn't take the chances -- I'd drop the H bomb. "I appreciate your insights, coming from a culture that has never acted in fear or ignorance to elect a government that later committed horrible acts of aggression... oh wait. Never mind. Just fuck off." If they tried to argue, it would get really fun, bec.ause, as everyone knows, once you bring up Hitler, rational conversation is finished

So,after learning that Mussolini's nickname was "Il Duce" (thanks to "The Know-It-All"), I look forward to my next trip to bella Italia in hopes that I can sucker someone into letting me "drop Il Duce". Such are the small pleasures of living in Europe.

* This post dedicated to John Martin, King of Deuce Droppers