And One for Dragovich, Kravchenko, and Steiner (All Must Die)
We had run into these two Aussies from our hostel on the train from Krakow, and they were planning to spend the day in Prague. We gave them some suggestions, including the firing range (that excited them). I would like to clarify that it was the LAST thing I listed. We’re not as gun-crazy as we probably sound. Like Bob, these Aussies wanted to experience the novelty of shooting with Americans. Eager to please, we agreed to join them and told them to meet us at the range at noon. I gave them directions.
We got into Prague at like 07:00. I was very sleepy and very cranky. We left our bags at the luggage storage place in the train station and went to the hostel. Will recovered his glasses and I passed out on the couch for an hour. Will played Pocket Frogs while I slept. I think I got the better end of that deal. He disagrees.
On our way out of the hostel, we were turning a corner, passing some construction stuff. We were on one side of a construction fence, talking about Pokémon. On the other side of the fence was some guy. We never saw him, but his accent was Arab (don’t ask which country, we don’t know). Once we’re a little bit past us, he yells, “Go fight in Afghanistan! KILLERS! …Killers!” I didn’t understand what he said right away, but Will burst out laughing for a number of reasons. The primary reason is that he probably will.
After our fun adventures with that random guy, we went to the train station and checked out train times to Münich, our next stop. Then, we headed to the firing range, where we quickly learned that they open at 14:00. We waited for the Aussies for 40 minutes. They never showed. I never told them which side of the subway station to come out of, but if you came out the wrong side, my directions would have made no sense. I think they got lost. Disheartened, Will and I went to get lunch at Green Tomatoes. I had delicious gnocchi, and Will had risotto.
After lunch, we went to the train station. I found a currency exchange and traded in for Euros, since we’re returning to Western Europe. We had a couple of hours, so we sat down in the train station and started writing blog entries. I’ve been REALLY far behind. Since we’re currently sitting on a train to Münich with two non-English-speaking girls who are going on in a language that I don’t recognize, I might as well explain how the blog writing works. Nothing better to do. This thing gets in at like 23:00 (it’s 19:04, and I’ve been writing for about three hours).
After a day is over, if I don’t write a blog entry immediately, I put notes into my little blue notebook. Will helps me remember stuff that I forget, throws out suggestions, and proofreads. He doesn’t actually write anything. The only thing Will actually writes is Will’s Corner. Go figure. We do our Inspirational Message to Joe together.
The titling system is a secret, but it’s not random. There are rules that govern its mysteries.
Okay, so we get into Munich, buy subway tickets, and head to our hostel. We got slightly lost, but we made it. It was the biggest hostel ever. We ordered a pizza. This is more difficult than you’d think. The guy was yelling at me in German on the phone, I was going “What are you saying? I don’t understand!” This only made him more insistent. I decided to just start giving him information that I usually give to pizza places. This seemed to appease him.
We got up to our room. It was a pretty standard six bed dorm, nice and clean. One thing about it sucked: the bathroom. There was a leak in the pipe, and it created a lake in the bathroom. There was nowhere for it to drain, only a place for it to stagnate. It was filled with chick-hair and dirt. It sucked.
Will’s Corner
The views and opinions expressed in this blog do not in any way represent those of the American Government. Or any sane people, for that matter.
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Dear Joe,
You are like a hybrid species of a Party Opossum and a Rage Raccoon. You are at the top of the Party Chain.
Love,
Will and Andy
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