Monday, March 20, 2006

Selected Memories from Duesseldorf: The Brown Man



Hello Kinder! Was ist passiert? As you may have heard, we've returned from Naziland. We lost a great many brain cells, but we gained plenty of blogging material, so that's a fair trade.

This is an artist's rendition of the brown man we met in the hotel bar in the middle of the night. We spoke with him and his posse for quite a while, but I don't remember very much about what we talked about. He was American, played football for a living, and had some weird rings he was proud of. I think he might have used them to beat people up, but he seemed like a nice guy. I was drunk, and shortly afterwards I fell down. I awoke the morning after with a renewed sense of purpose.

Such was my encounter with... the brown man.

5 comments:

Goo said...

Did you guys dance to crappy euro trance and get all drunk and shit?? I bet you did. You little weirdos. I bet Swedish weirdos are just as weird as German weirdos, and we all know how weird Germans are. Discotechs. Beh.

Afe said...

Did you see the brown man in the bathroom? Was he in the toilet? Do you think you were perhaps just tripping on acid and talked to a poo?

Matthew said...

That might have been a famous footballer from the states. Was he grateful to talk to someone who liked him for who he was on the inside and not all the bling-bling he was wearing?

Goo said...

c'mon tell us more than this bullshit about meeting a footbal star. tell us about what you wore out to go dancing dammit!

Koala Mentala said...

1. I wore my best Sunday dress.

2. I don't dance.

3. The brown man was indeed famous but, as far as I can ascertain, not made out of poo.