Thunderdome Spinoff: The Stephen Years
Yo I'm like Frasier Crane up in this popsicle stand. Check out my photoless adventures! In the absense of a camera, I've put together this nice collage of google image search photos which can convey what I've seen since I've split up from Michael and his delicious piece of Oriental machinery. And his camera.
For real, like that.
I'm in Lublin now, staying with CS host Magda who is vegetarian and made me some wonderful vegetarian food. Since splitting with Mike in Torun, I jetted down to Poznan, where the absolutely useful Lonely Planet mentioned a hostel which didn't exist, another which wasn't a hostel, and a third one which was closed. So I wandered around Poznan for two hours with a huge pack and taxis followed me like vultures until I finally spent far more than necessary on a room. Oh and it was 20 degrees out, and I shivered myself to sleep and woke up sick. The Lonely Planet can suck my fuck.
ANYHOW, Poznan was a wash of sorts. They said to "check out the mechanical goats which butt heads every day at noon above the town hall." Yeah, the goats? I've had more amusing bowel movements. Tourists gathered around the place to see it, and after it was over looked embarassed for even waiting for it. They should just have a dude stand on top of the town hall and ram my shits together with his hands. Now there is a spectacle.
The goats were Poznan in microcosm. Sure, nice city. I went to a museum of musical instruments and saw a oboe-like doodad called a "fagot" and I was reminded of all the suckers who read this blog. Fagots. JAJAjajajajajjajaja. Man I'm good.
I stayed the next night with an old Polish lady with, I'm going to admit, very large breasts and about 8 pictures of Jan Pawel II in the kitchen alone. She walked in on me naked. She was totally hot and bothered but wouldn't admit it. I know you was, Alicja. I signed her guestbook and then traipsed around the city and found a CS host whose friend told me that male rape was a big problem in her high school. HAIL POLAND.
For reals, the hosts, Agata and Marija, were awesome. We drank "Proletaryat" beer under pictures of Lenin and told stories and talked about languages. Great people in poznan, I just wished I found them the night before leaving for Lublin.
Saw Majdanek concetration camp this morning and strangely felt little. I remember that I couldn't walk straight, and tripped often, but I also remember that I was blithely humming Minor Threat while walking out of the camp. I remember touched the oven walls because I wanted to know it was there, and then two hours later sat on a toilet for half an hour with stomach cramps like daggers. Such as it is.
Lublin is wonderful. I'm far from done exploring. Peace out, kids.