Sain sähköpostiini hauskan vitsin. Saksaksi. Ohessa vapaa suomennokseni ja alla vielä kielikurssilaisille alkuperäisteksti.
Ja minullehan ei muuten koskaan voisi käydä näin, eihän....
Olin taas tässä päivänä muutamana menossa ystävättärieni kanssa ulos. Lupasin miehelleni, että olisin viimeistään keskiyöllä kotona. Mutta niinkuin siinä aina ruukaa käydä, drinksujen, tanssimisen ja flirttailun tuoksinassa unohdin ajankulun. Tulin vasta kolmelta aamulla kotiin... tuhannen päissäni!
Kun tulin ovesta sisään, alkoi käkikello juuri kukkua kolmea. Pelästyin, varmana siitä, että mieheni saattaisi herätä käkikellon kukuntaan ja päätin kukkua itse vielä yhdeksän kertaa...
Tyytyväisenä ja ylpeänä siitä, että siinäkin kunnossa keksin niin hyvän idean, painelin makuuhuoneeseen. Menin sänkyyn nerokkaan ideani rauhoittamana. Seuraavana aamuna aamiaisella mieheni kysyi mihin aikaan olin tullut edellisyönä kotiin. "Keskiyöllä, niinkuin olin luvannut!" Hän ei sanonut mitään, eikä näyttänyt epäilevän mitään. "Huh," ajattelin, "pelastuin! Hän ei epäile sanojani!" Mutta sitten yllättäen hän sanoi: "Ai niin muuten, luulen että käkikellomme ei ole kunnossa." Vapisten kysyin: "Miten niin kultaseni?" Ja hän vastasi:"No, eilen yöllä käki kukkui kolme kertaa, sitten - en oikein ymmärrä sitä itsekään - se huusi kerran 'Perkele!' ja kukkui taas neljä kertaa. Sitten se oksensi eteiseen, kukkui taas kolme kertaa, nauroi itsensä kipeäksi, kukkui vielä kerran, pinkaisi raput yläkertaan, tallasi kissan hännän päälle, kompastui rikkoen sohvapöydän, asettui lopulta viereeni sänkyyn ja - röyhtäisyn saattelemana - voihkaisi viimeisen 'kukkuunsa'. Sitten tuli hiljaista. Voit varmaan kysäistä kellosepältä vieläkö kellon voisi korjata."
- - - - - - - -
Ein toller Witz. Aber so was könnte mir nie passieren....
Letztens habe ich mich mal wieder mit meinen Freundinnen getroffen. Ich versprach meinem Mann, dass ich um Punkt 24 Uhr wieder zu Hause sein würde. Aber wie das so ist, zwischen Cocktails, Tanz und Flirt vergaß ich die Zeit. Ich kam erst um 3 Uhr morgens zu Hause an ... und das komplett betrunken!
Als ich zur Tür hereinkam, fing gerade der Kuckuck an, dreimal "Kuckuck" zu rufen. Erschrocken stellte ich fest, dass der Kuckuck meinen Mann aufwecken könnte, und fing an, neunmal "Kuckuck" zu rufen ...
Zufrieden und stolz, in meinem Zustand noch einen so guten Einfall gehabt zu haben, begab ich mich ins Schlafzimmer. Ich legte mich ins Bett und war beruhigt dank meines schlauen Einfalls. Am nächsten Morgen beim Frühstück fragte mich mein Mann, wann ich denn letzte Nacht zu Hause angekommen sei. Ich sagte: "Um Mitternacht, wie ich es dir versprochen hatte!" Er sagte nichts weiter und wirkte auch nicht weiter misstrauisch. "Ja," dachte ich mir, "gerettet! Er hegt keine Zweifel an meiner Aussage!" Aber dann sagte er plötzlich: "Ach übrigens, ich denke, mit der Kuckucksuhr stimmt etwas nicht." Zitternd fragte ich: "Ach so? Warum denn, mein Schatz?" Und er antwortete: "Nun ja, gestern Nacht rief der Kuckuck dreimal 'Kuckuck', dann - ich kann es mir gar nicht erklären - schrie er auf einmal 'Scheiße!' und dann rief er noch viermal 'Kuckuck'. Dann übergab er sich im Flur, rief weitere dreimal 'Kuckuck', lachte sich kaputt, rief erneut 'Kuckuck', rannte die Treppe hinauf, trat dabei der Katze auf den Schwanz, stolperte über den Couchtisch, der unter dem Gewicht zerbrach, legte sich schließlich an meiner Seite ins Bett, und - begleitet von einem Rülps - stöhnte er ein letztes 'Kuckuck', dann war Ruhe. Kannst ja mal beim Uhrmacher nachfragen, ob das noch zu reparieren ist!"
keskiviikko 28. huhtikuuta 2010
tiistai 6. huhtikuuta 2010
Irish Pub Tour
Where would one go, if one would like to make an Irish Pub Tour? Ireland...??? Too obvious!!! So I went to Düsseldorf.
Pub #1 O'Reilly's
Downstairs all the people are watching football on TV. So we take the stairs up, we are greeted by a very nice young man, in English as it should be, and he shows us the way to the smoking room. And I can't wait to get my first Magners. Slainte! For some reason or another there's no music, the room is not that cosy and not very Irish, my pint of cider is bloody expensive (well, not as expensive as in Finland - if it makes it any easier - and it does for me), also for Kilkenny you've got to pay more than in other pubs (which we'll find out later), but at least the service is very nice. I give *** out of five "Virpi-stars".
Pub #2 Buck Mulligan's
Instead of an Irish Pub we find a Tapas Bar. No cider, no stars.
Pub #3 Tir Na Nog
It's Karaoke night. We stand by the door for a few minutes listening to a young woman singing. Even if they are serving free shots during the karaoke we decide to skip this one for now. Maybe, just maybe, some people shouldn't sing (and yes, I'm referring to myself too). Sorry. At this point * for the pub even for existing.
Pub #4 Fatty's
A pint of Magners is 50 cents cheaper than in the first pub! The ambiance is nice, you get very friendly service in English (or in German if that's what you wish) and always something to nibble with your drink. After this visit ****.
Pub #5 Sutton's
Just a few metres away from Fatty's. Same owner, same drinks, same nibbles, same prices. Quite loud and busy, but at least Joa can rest his eyes on those two firm, young waitresses, while trying to explain he's just checking out the girls for Stefan. Then we get a phone call from Joa's brother, leave the pub very hastily and give ***.
It's time to have a Moscow Mule in Bar Ellingtons:
And after an hour or two, and after a cocktail or two...
Pub #6 The Harps
Nothing there. No cider for me. No stars for this nonexistent pub. Or are we already too drunk to find it?
Pub #7 McLaughlins's
The sign is still there. But that's all. No lights. No open door. No nothing. I'm thirsty. I need a drink. A cider. Soon. Now!
Pub #3 Tir Na Nog
We return to number three. Thanks to the Catholic Church the karaoke is over by midnight. There's no music at all. It's Good Friday and listening to music is a sin. So we concentrate on drinking and smoking. The waitress tries but she can't speak English. 'Please' is all I get out of her. They don't even got Magners so I have a Bulmers. The English one. Not the Irish one that's called Magners outside of Ireland. Do you understand any of this anymore? Me neither, guess I'm getting drunk. Slowly. But surely. Just don't call me Shirley! Joa has been way past getting drunk after his Moscow Mule. Or Moscow Mole as he keeps calling it. This pub is a bit boring. And you have to pay to get to the loo! I don't wanna pay for that, it's my civil right to pee without a fee, isn't it? We leave and all I left behind is my already earlier given *.
Pub #4 Fatty's
It's a sin to play music anywhere tonight, so it's funnily quiet here too, but we still have time for one more round. This is my - this is our - favourite Irish Pub in Düsseldorf Old Town. I would so much like to give all the five rating stars I have, but at the very last minute the owner/boss/chief/head of the pub comes in wearing a Toronto Maple Leafs jersey #13!!!! As I leave, I keep singing "Mats Sundin är..." and have to stick to my ****.
The pub closes at 3:00 a.m. We leave at 3:10. We are hungry. We eat in Burger King at 3:20. Which is weird, 'cause it's also supposed to be open only till 3:00. Joa pay my burger. We go my room.
The next day after sauna and a lovely dinner (I had lamb and the best chocolate cake ever) we decide to have one more pint (which turns out to be two pints) in our favourite Irish Pub and end up witnessing a bar fight. "Like the good old days", as one of the regular guests says. And there's even music before midnight... even if it still is a sin!
Pub #1 O'Reilly's
Downstairs all the people are watching football on TV. So we take the stairs up, we are greeted by a very nice young man, in English as it should be, and he shows us the way to the smoking room. And I can't wait to get my first Magners. Slainte! For some reason or another there's no music, the room is not that cosy and not very Irish, my pint of cider is bloody expensive (well, not as expensive as in Finland - if it makes it any easier - and it does for me), also for Kilkenny you've got to pay more than in other pubs (which we'll find out later), but at least the service is very nice. I give *** out of five "Virpi-stars".
Pub #2 Buck Mulligan's
Instead of an Irish Pub we find a Tapas Bar. No cider, no stars.
Pub #3 Tir Na Nog
It's Karaoke night. We stand by the door for a few minutes listening to a young woman singing. Even if they are serving free shots during the karaoke we decide to skip this one for now. Maybe, just maybe, some people shouldn't sing (and yes, I'm referring to myself too). Sorry. At this point * for the pub even for existing.
Pub #4 Fatty's
A pint of Magners is 50 cents cheaper than in the first pub! The ambiance is nice, you get very friendly service in English (or in German if that's what you wish) and always something to nibble with your drink. After this visit ****.
Pub #5 Sutton's
Just a few metres away from Fatty's. Same owner, same drinks, same nibbles, same prices. Quite loud and busy, but at least Joa can rest his eyes on those two firm, young waitresses, while trying to explain he's just checking out the girls for Stefan. Then we get a phone call from Joa's brother, leave the pub very hastily and give ***.
It's time to have a Moscow Mule in Bar Ellingtons:
And after an hour or two, and after a cocktail or two...
Pub #6 The Harps
Nothing there. No cider for me. No stars for this nonexistent pub. Or are we already too drunk to find it?
Pub #7 McLaughlins's
The sign is still there. But that's all. No lights. No open door. No nothing. I'm thirsty. I need a drink. A cider. Soon. Now!
Pub #3 Tir Na Nog
We return to number three. Thanks to the Catholic Church the karaoke is over by midnight. There's no music at all. It's Good Friday and listening to music is a sin. So we concentrate on drinking and smoking. The waitress tries but she can't speak English. 'Please' is all I get out of her. They don't even got Magners so I have a Bulmers. The English one. Not the Irish one that's called Magners outside of Ireland. Do you understand any of this anymore? Me neither, guess I'm getting drunk. Slowly. But surely. Just don't call me Shirley! Joa has been way past getting drunk after his Moscow Mule. Or Moscow Mole as he keeps calling it. This pub is a bit boring. And you have to pay to get to the loo! I don't wanna pay for that, it's my civil right to pee without a fee, isn't it? We leave and all I left behind is my already earlier given *.
Pub #4 Fatty's
It's a sin to play music anywhere tonight, so it's funnily quiet here too, but we still have time for one more round. This is my - this is our - favourite Irish Pub in Düsseldorf Old Town. I would so much like to give all the five rating stars I have, but at the very last minute the owner/boss/chief/head of the pub comes in wearing a Toronto Maple Leafs jersey #13!!!! As I leave, I keep singing "Mats Sundin är..." and have to stick to my ****.
The pub closes at 3:00 a.m. We leave at 3:10. We are hungry. We eat in Burger King at 3:20. Which is weird, 'cause it's also supposed to be open only till 3:00. Joa pay my burger. We go my room.
The next day after sauna and a lovely dinner (I had lamb and the best chocolate cake ever) we decide to have one more pint (which turns out to be two pints) in our favourite Irish Pub and end up witnessing a bar fight. "Like the good old days", as one of the regular guests says. And there's even music before midnight... even if it still is a sin!
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