Eftir watching Cricket for two weeks or so (did you know that it involves little sticks of wood which are not supposed to fall off of other sticks of wood, that one match takes about a week and that the actual trophy, that England won back last week from the Australian Surferboys, is the size of a good sized Schnappesglas? One or two more months and, who knows, I might have eventually understood what it is all about...) ... where was I.. achso, yes, I'm finally back to good ol' Fitba! Yesterday, Hibernian FC or Hibernian Edinburgh or Edinburgh Hibernian FC or whatever the correct title may be, played Divn... Drvni...Diver...Dvrnr...some ugly blokes from Ukraine. And do you know that one scene in Ocean's Twelve, where that black guy (you know, the one whose name I always forget, but who was brilliant in Ocean's Twelve, where he put on a London accent although he is in fact from Califoornia or Texas or Alabama and who was also brillliant in Hotel Rwanda) sits in his hotel room, working on the bomb or something and watching tv where they pull down that huge hotel and in the back there's the window where he could actually see the building coming down but he doesn't because he can't take his eyes off the fucking tele. ... complicated explanation for a rather weak point... Jedenfalls: that's exactly what I experienced yesterday while I was watching football. They played at Easter Road, a place I can see from my kitchen window. I could even see the big screen because the stadium is really close but I was sitting, back to the window, in my kitchen watching the whole thing on telly. Strange. And that with me beeing so thankful for the Hibs. Everytime I get stuck in class because I can't think of any more questions to ask, I say the magical three words an let them linger in mid air for a second. They go like this: "Hearts or Hibs?" These are guaranteed to trigger off the most livelyest of discussions. Not in german, but so what? The thing is, I haven't decided yet on what team to support, Heart of Midlothian or Hibernian, and so eveybody is of course trying to convince me of his or her team. Well, ... I will have a look at Hearts as soon as possible and of course I will let you know of the results of this crutial question.
Tune in next time for the
Sabrina Fleck ... ... Gaalaaaaaaa!!!
2 comments:
hello miss spottedirot! it is me, hamlet the... nee, falsch... beatrice, the witty... nee, scheisse, wer denn nochmal? ach, richtig, ich bin es, benjamin... SCHEISSE! also. marieke schreibt aus stuttgart, wo ihr die braesigkeit des ortes dermassen zu (fisch)kopp gestiegen ist, dass das kleine bisschen verstand, was noch da war, sich jetzt vollkommen aus dem staub gemacht hat! fleckchen, du wirst vermisst, von mir und auch von anderen. dein herziger mann, mit dem ich letzte woche im kino war, sagte, dass wir alle mal anrufen sollten, denn das ist nicht teuer und man kann das ruhig mal machen. also, hiermit, gross, fett und in schwarz an alle der aufruf:
RUFT FRAU FLECK MAL AN, DENN DAS KANN MAN RUHIG MAL MACHEN. ES KOSTET NICHT VIEL UND ES MACHT FRAU FLECK GLÜCKLICH!
hör zu, der schäbige freund und ich machen das gleich! kuss, die m
Lovies!
Ich hab eure sms erst spaet in der Nacht bemerkt, weil meine zwei Mitbewohner und ich den ganzen Abend in der Kueche sassen und Fernsehen geguckt und gegessen haben. Ueberhaupt gewoehne ich mir deren Rythmus an, der viel laute Aktivitaet spaet in der Nacht beinhaltet... Nein, dafuer sind die noch zu klein (beide 22, suess, wa!). Aber Gummibaelle an Waende schmeissen, da sin se ganz gross drin;)
So, ich mach mir jetz ordentlich porridge!
Lieb!
Frau Fleck
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