The Countess is Trying to Kill Me

Yet I survive.

At this moment, Joanna and I are guests of the Countess Lieta in her apartment in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany. She has been gracious and kind enough to bring us with her to Germany, yet I fear that subtley she is trying to kill me.

On June 12, Joanna and I were making lunch. Soup and Sandwiches were on the menu and I was in charge of the soup, since I am an expert on opening cans and pouring their contents into a pot.

I bent down to grab a pot from the lower cabinet, but little did I know that the Countess had been in the kitchen only minutes before and had left the upper cabinet open. In Germany the bottom of cabinets are reinforced with two thin parallel strips of hard metal.

Finding the appropriate pot for soup, I arose. Now, anyone who has seen me perform with THE HABIT knows, when I stand up, I mean it. So, as is my custom, I stood up with great force.

"FUUUCCCKKKKKK!" I screamed as the parallel strips of metal gouged into my head.

"Are you OK?" Joanna inquired, unsurprised that I had managed to hurt myself again.

"Oh yeah baby, I´m cool," I replied, trying to play the role of tough guy, I gathered myself from the blow and even managed to get the soup on the stove top.

I then touched my head to check for a bump. Blood.

"I´m bleeding," I said as casually as I could muster. "I´m gonna go wash this out of my hair." I went to the bathroom to find that I had two huge gashes in my head. The type of wounds if one had insurance, they would surely go to the doctor to get some stitches.

I came back to the kitchen and sat down still trying to be cool, whilst I waited for the exciting conclusion of Soup and Sandwiches Germany 2006. I found that my hunger was waning and I was feeling a bit light headed.

"You look really pale," Joanna observed, now getting worried, "your lips are turning blue!"

"I think I´m gonna go lie down," I said woozily. Slowly, unlike my custom, I tried to stand up, swaying from side to side as if I were on a space-boat, unfit for space. Joanna flanked me from behind. I headed for the door, which was actually a cabinet, my sight was going blank white. Reaching for the cabinet, I passed out. Joanna caught me just before I went head first into the kitty´s litter box. I am allergic to cats and their poop.

I know that my hair is slowly receding, but I hope it doesn´t go too fast. In addition to my large funny shaped head, complete with flesh mohawk (see pointy skulls like Kareem Abdul Jamar, Alien 3, or Vitaly Potopenko) I now have two new fresh scars to go with my childhood scars.

Back to the Countess. Further evidence that my life is in danger is that on April 2nd when I was staying in the Countess Lieta´s basement, which was my temporary bedroom, I stepped on a rusty staple which was protruding from the pan-asian rugs that covered the floor. There was no antiseptic available, and it hurt like hell, but naturally I played it cool. It still stings. I haven´t had a tetnis shot in ages, but it hasn´t turned any funky colors yet, and after all it only hurts when I WALK!

Yesterday after the Countess left the apartment with the dogs, she left the burner on. Curious? But even worse the day before she gave Joanna and I a salad with raw fennel. You probably haven´t had raw fennel before, and there is a reason for that. It is deadly. In Italy they call fennel, finocchio, which coincindentally is also an Italian vulgarity for a gay man. For more on Finocchio.

So now I . . . am . . in


Feeling .

Woo

Zee . . . . wee . . . look at the lights . .

Mmmmm.

Sorry, uh, yeah, OK, hmm, MEANWHILE!

Naturally the Countess can mean me no harm, she is one of the sweetest, not to mention most intelligent people I have ever met. It is simply a matter of physics. Since Joanna and I have relied so heavily on the Countess and her family to make our trip easier and more comfortable, chaos theory would dictate that it would also bring us a equal amount of pain and discomfort. In other words, that´s Karma biting me in the ass.

Germany is fucking fantastic. I am really loving it here. This town is so gorgeous with it´s milky white rivers, steep rocky gorges, and gigantic mountain peaks. I almost feel as if I´m betraying my Italian heritage, enjoying it so much. Maybe it´s just the delicious huge beers, or the fantastic food with heaping helpings of meat and potatoes, or maybe it is that the cars actual stop for pedestrians, or that they actually wear traditional bavarian garb (just for the tourists? who cares they look so silly and cute in LederhÖsen), or that everything is clean, or that the hills are covered with wild flowers, or that everyone speaks impeccable english, or that the hills and trails and mountain pathes are covered with beer hauses every 30 minutes, or that the tempature hasn´t dropped below 80 yet, or that they take more holidays then anyone on earth (enough with the bells already!) or that the lakes and swimming pools are pristine and picturesque. I love it, I almost feel guilty. How will I continue making fun of the Germans as I have all these years? Easy. Their language.

Seriously, the silliest sounds known to man come out of these people, you haven´t lived until you´ve seen a Sylvester Stallone movie dubbed in German.

Joanna and I have a new favorite past time. When we pass a couple of Germans on a trail and they are going on with their "SlÜssen FlaÜssen Flaäuuenn Gruben Doctor Wigger Strauß. Fläbben glockön traben."

We then counter with the funniest sounds we can think of, Northwest city names and tribes.

"Snohomish, Sequim hoquim mukilteo," says Joanna.

"Sealth Sealth, Quinnalt makah tacoma," I reply, the super affluent Germans are flustered that can´t make out or language.

"Puyallup jim jam skykomish!" Joanna can´t resist the old jim jam.

I throw the Germans a quick and friendly, "GÜs got" which means "God greets you," and then agrily lauch back into Salish with Joanna.

"Kwaka ´waka ´waka kwawa" which is an actual BC tribe, "Haida Hoh."

"Chehalis tulalip mukilshoot."

"Tukwila my ass!" and with that we watch the perplexed Germans head over the meadow to another beerhaüs.

Gotta go now, the old internet cafe is shuttin down, plenty of awesome pics await you next week o´ ye devoted dozen. Gonna try and catch a couple of World Cup games next week.

Peace be with you.