21 September 2005


I’m off for a week to a portion (one of the “Stans”) of the former Soviet Union where there is, for the most part, no internet access. I hope this will not inconvenience either of my readers.

I’m actually looking forward to this trip and have been studying useful Russian phrases such as:

“No, I have nothing to declare.”
“Don’t shoot, I am not a Chechen.”
“Don’t shoot, I am a Chechen.”
“How much for the mutton-less Plov?”
“Do you have any Mexican food?”
“Say, I bet those machine guns aren’t real!”
“Honestly, Officer. The shop keeper told me this was a novelty cigarette lighter. How was I supposed to know that it was really a SS-18?”
“Yes, of course I agree with you. You are heavily armed.”

"It's my round? Look! Behind you! It's Donald Rumsfeld!"
“May I call the Embassy?”

“May I call a priest?”
“So this is a Russian prison?”
"I want my mummy."
"Wait a mo, where is the women's section? I've seen those movies..."

That, and a thick wad of hard currency should see me through.

And that's the way I likes it.