( published 12th April 2002 )
An old Luxembourgish friend, Arni, has applied for my morning mail ( harhar, poor him, he doesn't know what is expecting him, harhar ). 7 years at least I hadn't heard from him. Last time we saw each others he sent me to jail.
Well, let's say he sent me to jail to play football with his team MWR ( Mauve-Waiss-Rout ) against some prisoners in Schrassig ( Luxembourg jail ). There comes Alex, looking like a prima ballerina in his athletic gear, standing in front of 11 energetic, dynamic, electrified ( sex hungry?? ohhh nooo! ) prisoners. The referee ( one of the guards ) starts the game. I look around to check if other guards are standing on the towers with a rifle or so ( imagine me coming home "Hoooney, I brought you a buuullet!" ). No, nothing.
For the first 5 minutes the whole action happens on the right hand side, so I'm quiet. But then there comes a high ball from Arni towards me. With my usual elegance I "float" towards the ball, but soon I can sense the ground trembling. What's this? Buffalo? King Kong? Hulk? Iiiiiiit's "Super Inmate". One of the opponents is running towards me, mouth wide open ( this one has been locked up for years, I'm sure ). He is silent but I can hear his soul screaming CHAAAAAAAAAARGE as he is approaching me and the ball...Our both feet hit the ball simultaneously. And here ends my story. I had to go out of the pitch, injured, and I never ever played football again ( except in Portugal on the beach against 6 year olds ).
Thanks Arni. Enjoy my morning mails.
P.S. Yesterday's Loft Story II: Haven't seen it, but first comment from Marlene, one of the participants: " I eat boys like candies." Loft Story II, Family Program!
The American tourist got the shock of his life when a Mexican with a 6 shooter jumped out from behind a cactus.
"Take my money, my car but don't kill me", said the tourist.
"I no kill you if you do what I say," said the Mexican.
"Just unzip your pants and start masturbating," he ordered.
Although shocked, the tourist did what he was told. "Right, now do it again" said the Mexican.
The Yank protested but with the gun against his nose, he managed again.
"And yet again, Gringo, or I shoot you dead."
With sweat running down his brow, the yank managed a final effort and fell exhausted.
"Good" said the Mexican, "now you give my sister a ride to the next village."