Sunday, September 23, 2012

#48 - Prospects

Woman: Surely you have a wife or a girlfriend?
Man: No! I'm a confirmed bachelor.

Woman: I don't know which is worse.

It's funny because it's true.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

#46 - A bad dream

The crucifix on the radio implies that this couple are listeners of Radio Maryja. This station promotes paranoid thinking not all that dissimilar from the man's dream, which includes most of the bugbears of the contemporary Polish reactionary worldview: Jews, Germans, gays, and Polish land being owned by foreigners. Certain elements of the US political scene have similar nightmares.

Saturday, September 1, 2012

#47 - Vacation plans

A common sight in some Polish parks, indeed in parks worldwide, including those in my city: drunken unemployed men with nothing to do and nowhere to go. What do they do on holiday weekends?

A Pole writes:

"Długi weekend" includes a pun. It is long and boring for these eternally jobless fellows. The phrase "długi weekend", however, is commonly used now by everybody, working or not working class heroes.
 It started with a several days break in May, which even turned into the whole week break.
 It is connected with the Working Class Day, followed by the Day of National Flag and Trzeci Maja, as you probably know, Święto Konstytucji in Poland.
 People prolong their holiday taking sick leaves or asking for the free week where they work. Such long weekends, sometimes lasting the whole week, happen now also in August when we've got Święto Maryjne,hi,hi, on 15th August. The third long weekend or week may happen on 1st November and around that day, when people go to the cemeteries around Poland.
  One long weekend is chased by another, it is the subject of idiotic conversations, it is discussed in the media, blablabla.
  Now, the funny side is that it is posh to go abroad for such a long weekend, especially in May or August.A small number of people can afford to do it and there's the rub.
 The people who want to show off and go for the whole week to Egypt, for example.
 They spend their time there, imprisoned in one of the hotels in Hurghada, swimming, picking up boys, observing teenagers and children, eating, drinking, taking massages, puking and farting, not knowing about the outside world at all.
 Then, relaxed to the extreme, they return, ready to meet such miserable creatures like me, who don't go to those blessed holiday resorts and spas, and tell them stories about the Arabian Nights and comforting them that their time is gonna come.