Home » Macedonia Bulgaria » Churchil, me and the lom: Chosen mails from Bulgaria & Macedonia

While travelling in Venezuella, when I first encountered the extreme unreliability of the locals in developing countries, I invented the SEXA PLANT (MINA TZEMACH) method of orienting: before each turn-about I take, I ask 10 locals, and do complex calculations, which weights their age, gender, look and size of breast (in case the gender is "female"). The map (if I have any) is not weighted much more than 2 old men in these calculation- I think that instead of using expensive means such as sattelites photos, these countries simply pay expressionist artists for drawing their topographical maps.

Churchil, me and the lom: Chosen mails from Bulgaria & Macedonia

Itamar Cohen
2006-02-26 13:50:03

Displayed times (last time: )

SEXA PLANT

While travelling in Venezuella, when I first encountered the extreme unreliability of the locals in developing countries, I invented the SEXA PLANT (MINA TZEMACH) method of orienting: before each turn-about I take, I ask 10 locals, and do complex calculations, which weights their age, gender, look and size of breast (in case the gender is "female"). The map (if I have any) is not weighted much more than 2 old men in these calculation- I think that instead of using expensive means such as sattelites photos, these countries simply pay expressionist artists for drawing their topographical maps.
But when I rode from Sophia to Aleko, all the locals had the same answer, when I asked them on the way: "up". And they were right. This place was simply "up" - the highest you can ride of from Sofia.

On one how much and how mcuh
In Israel, I eat a lot of Bulgarian cheese. And in Bulgaria? 'On one how much and how mcuh' (AL ACHAT KAMA VECHAMA).

Don't touch my Rila

A SHARLILA friend of mine once told me that she wanna be a nun. My immediate response was, that had all the nuns had such a beautiful chest and a healthy passion Rila monasteryfor sex like she has, world would have been a better place for living.
Well, luckily not all the monks are as tactless as I'm. Yesterday I entered Rila Monastery, the holliest place in Bulgaria, riding my bike. When I saw the local monk, I went down the bike and start walking (I know that for some reason people consider cycling as a sign of dis-respect). I asked him politely for a room (it's common to sleep in the monasteries here).
The monk looked at me carefully, and asked me if I don't get cold, wearing my short clothes. I answered that the long uphill made me warm enough.
Only a hour later I understood, that this was his politely way to tell me that wearing "fuck-me" Lycra pants and mitromemim-skaya pink shirt is not very welcome ...