Tag Archives: Blogging

My German Wife Somehow Equates Past Grieviances with the Making of a Sandwich

funny-toast-smiley-face-bread-sandwich-mayonnaise

“German mayonnaise… you’ll never forget it.” — Photo by Renzelle Mae Abasolo – Subject to copyright — (https://www.flickr.com/photos/maehabasolo/)

My wife has an old friend named Killjoy McBittertits. That’s not really her name, but I think it does a great job of summarizing my overall impression of her. You see, Killjoy is the kind of person who keeps track of every little good or service exchanged over the course of a friendship: the number of gifts given, the gallons of gas used, and even the number of cups of coffee shared. All of this information goes into the great empty pit where her heart should be, and fuses together into a lump of bitterness which can be thrown like a projectile weapon whenever someone pisses her off.

My wife somehow managed to anger this woman many years ago, and she has recounted the tale to me several times since. They were in Killjoy’s apartment, Killjoy was in her normal emotional state (simmering fury), and my wife decided to have a second cup of coffee. Since helping yourself to a friend’s coffee pot is obviously reason enough to eviscerate them emotionally, Killjoy decided to list off every single thing she had purchased over the course of their friendship — like she’d been keeping track of each perceived offense on a list hidden beneath her pillowcase, written in pig blood.

If there’s one thing my wife is not, it’s a freeloader. The insinuation makes her very mad. So when she told me this story — describing each insult and retort in detail — she spoke as if she were snapping back at Killjoy herself:

THE WIFE: “Sorry you feel that way, but don’t smear this on my bread!”*

*Translated from the German expression, “Schmier mir das nicht aufs Brot,” which figuratively means, “Quit bringing up the past.”

 


 

 

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My German Wife Complains About Getting Cramps While Jogging

funny jogging picture of a woman running alone

“Wait up, Honey! I just blew chunks all over this new shirt your mother bought me!” — Photo by rosmary — Subject to copyright — (https://www.flickr.com/photos/rvoegtli/)

As you may already know, I often jog around the Maschsee here in Hannover, Germany. It’s about 3.9 miles in circumference (6.3 km), which is a pretty good bit of exercise for someone who sits in front of the computer all day long making pretty things for money. The first time I successfully ran the Maschsee, I wanted to throw up as hard as possible. I wanted to vomit like a dog who’s been gorging on something nasty it found in the garbage — back all hunched over real tight, mouth open and drooling, making that awful, full-body dry heaving sound, like, AHYUK-KA YUK-KA YUK-KA — and then BAM! Paydirt.

Although jogging the Maschsee has become progressively easier each time I’ve done it, there is one thing which still challenges me: talking while running. It gives some people cramps or stitches in their sides, but personally, I just don’t have the cardiovascular fortitude for it. Not after the first minute into the run or so. After that, it’s a test of willpower and socially acceptable masochism, and wasting oxygen is like spitting in the eye of the exercise gods. I’m pretty sure every dude who ever dropped dead while jogging was trying to hold a conversation at the same time, like it was no big deal. But oh, it was a big deal, for Lord Cardio the Spiteful is a god who demands your full attention, lest he become jealous and smite thee with a cataclysmic aneurysm.

old-cemetary-with-moss-covered-grave-stones

“Welcome to your new home, big mouth.” — Photo by Martin Pettitt — Image subject to copyright — (https://www.flickr.com/photos/mdpettitt/)

So back in the winter of 2012, my wife actually joined me for a jog around the Maschsee. (A rare occasion, as my wife is a teacher, and teachers work way more hours after class than you might think.) We managed to go most of the way around before we decided to walk. As we were walking, we were passed by another couple — a man and woman with superior thighs and exemplary calf muscles — who were running at a good clip while conducting an effortless conversation. I mentioned to my wife how impressive I found this, to which she replied:

THE WIFE: “If I try to talk while I run, I get these horrible side-bites.”*

*I think she was translating the German word, “Seitenstiche,” or “side stitches.”

 

 


 

My Wife Suggests Long John Underwear to Help Fight Winter Chills in Germany

long-thermal-underwear-funny-winter

“Keeps my junk so warm I gotta smile.” — Photo by Anthony Easton (https://www.flickr.com/photos/pinkmoose/)

We’ve all heard winters in northern Germany can be pretty harsh, right? They’re long, dark, scary and depressing, like a prolonged nightmare or just about any movie starring Jeremy Irons. Winters pass so slowly here, the Germans have constructed a series of traditions and paid holidays systematically designed to keep you from playing chicken with the next subway train you see and screwing up the U-Bahn schedule for everybody.

I don’t mind winter, but even I have to admit the winter of 2012 was a real penis shrinker. In Hannover, winter lasted from October until May. Seriously, it was May when my wife and I were finally able to turn off the heat in our apartment and not freeze to death like a couple of white chocolate popsicles. Luckily, my wife is German and she knows how to deal with these long winters. She’s always telling me to wrap myself in a blanket, drink hot chamomile tea (because Germans think chamomile is a panacea), place a hot water bottle on my lap and wear thermal underwear beneath my pants (known more creepily as “long johns”).

I generally follow her advice, but the truth is I am a profoundly lazy man. Sometimes I cannot be bothered with all 4 aspects of her winter defensive strategy, which is why, back in November of 2012, I wore thin pajama pants while working at my computer and then complained about the fact that my legs were cold. My wife came into the office, put her teacher’s bag on the floor and announced:

THE WIFE: “It is getting very cold. Your pee-jammy pants are not warm enough. Tomorrow we buy you Johnny Long Bottoms.”

My German Wife Apologizes After Overcooking Our American Style Steaks

american-style-steaks-in-germany

“It tastes just like bald eagle!” — Photo by Ralph Daily (https://www.flickr.com/photos/ralphandjenny/)

I’ve discussed the antidepressant effects of eating pizza on Sunday night — how it soothes the soul before Monday morning comes along and rips it right out of your hairy chest — but my German wife and I don’t always have pizza. Sometimes we get crazy and warm up frozen baguettes. Or throw a rack full of hors d’oeuvres in the oven. We’ve even made some of Dr. Oetker’s pizza burgers. And one time? We didn’t eat anything from the frozen food aisle; we cooked American style steaks. (And no one even burned themselves on the grill.)

It was back in September of 2012, around 9:00pm. Sunday night had us both in the palm of its dirty hand, just like a huge, invisible sex offender. The clatter of the plates was too loud. The slicing of the vegetables took too long. But the sizzle of the steak? Oh, that was perfect. I brought those two slabs of meat to a perfect, medium rare pink (with a hot porno center). I took the steaks off the grill and slid them onto our plates knowing I had successfully represented America and defended its freedom for another day. And that’s when my wife demanded I put the steaks back on the grill because she wasn’t done cutting the green onions and she didn’t want the meat to get cold.

She was being a little pissy that night, you see, so we argued and of course she won. The steaks went right back on the grill. I felt I’d achieved a respectable compromise, however, by keeping the heat on “low.” Five minutes later, I turned around to find the grill had not only been turned back up, but was now set to “hot as the devil’s red nutsack.” The meat was disgracefully overcooked and my wife and I bickered a little more. But later, as we brought our plates into the living room so we could eat while watching a movie, she apologized for her negative attitude:

THE WIFE: “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry I pooped around.”

My German Wife Explains the Biology of Bad Breath

bad-breath-open-mouth-stink-funny

“Oh God. Please, just close your mouth and never open it again.” — Photo by Alisha Vargas (https://www.flickr.com/photos/alishav/)

As you may already know, my German wife and I have lots of inside jokes, idioms and nicknames for the unpleasant things occurring in everyday life. Here are just a few examples we use regularly:

  • The hot, silent gas expelled from one’s anus immediately following a meal of spicy soup, pizza or chili, which smells of poison, horror and all things sullied: “Death Farts
  • Negligent or annoying people — especially teenagers — who are unnecessarily loud and/or obnoxious in public places: “Fuckees
  • The red and inflamed state of my eyelids after I’ve worn a sleeping mask all night long, resulting in the aggravation of my eczema skin condition: “Pig Eyes
  • Frozen food items, generally mini-pizzas and fried hors d’oeuvres, consumed specifically while drinking red wine and watching A Game of Thrones: “Stoner Food
  • A genetically inherited double-chin, which only elongates with age and cannot be destroyed with anything short of heroic plastic surgery: “Yoddler
  • Semi-excited genitalia of the male gender, especially as it is being spun like a pinwheel immediately following a shower: “Half-Schmack

So back in late September of 2012, as my wife was leaving our apartment in order to buy a few groceries from Netto, she raised one finger and invented an entirely new name for bad breath, complete with pseudo-scientific explanation:

THE WIFE: “Unfortunately, I have the Stink Mouth because the bacterials are sitting on the tongue.”

My German Wife Invents a Heroic New Nickname for Senior Citizens

senior-citizens-crosswalk-sign-funny-humor-old-age

“I know you are wise, old ones, but my GOD you move slowly.” — Photo by Ruth Ellison (https://www.flickr.com/photos/laruth/)

Remember back in the summer of 2013 when The Wife and I went to Herrenhäuser Gärten here in Hannover, Germany, to see the International Firework Competition? It’s where different European countries orchestrate pyrotechnic displays set to music. Anyway, as we were waiting to enter the garden, we noticed the vast majority of the people in line were old. Like, old as balls. We soon found ourselves lost in a sea of gray hair — adrift upon wave after wave of receding, platinum-rimmed pates. It was really quite breathtaking.

So after thoroughly appraising the short-timers around us, my wife leaned close to me, whispering…

THE WIFE: “They all have such silver hair. They are silver surfers.”

silver-surfer-toy-funny-german-comic

This has since become our household name for anyone over the age of 65. — Photo by Xin Mei (https://www.flickr.com/photos/metaxin/)

American Expat Living in Germany Looks Back at Blogging in the Year 2013

funny german couple at festival

“Damn dude, you have CHANGED.” — Photo by Alex Archambault (http://www.flickr.com/photos/lostintexas/)

2013 was a big year for The Wife and I. After living in the States together, we moved to Hannover, Germany! Now, I’ll be real honest with you: it was scary at times (there may have been tears). I dropped everything, including a house, car and job, and moved across the globe to a country in which I did not adequately speak the language. Meanwhile, my wife scrambled around finding us an apartment here in Hannover, moving everything in and launching her post-university career. Jesus Christ, I think I’m going to have a panic attack just thinking about all that stuff again. Yep. It’s on. “Honey, call the Krankenwagen; my thunderous American heart has finally given out.”

2013 was also a big year for our blog. In addition to our usual denglish posts, I began writing about life as an American expat in Germany, and the culture shock and linguistic misadventures which ensued. I also started making videos and posting pictures from our travels around Germany, which brought in a lot more new readers. We were featured on The Local and several other expat resource websites. On top of all that, one of our posts was ‘Freshly Pressed’ on WordPress.com. Our readership just exploded over the past year, and as of the writing of this post, we’re about to pass the 10,000 subscriber mark!

We would like to sincerely thank you for reading our blog and invite you to take a look at some cool information from this past year, including:

  • Silly Statistics
  • Our Most Popular Post Ever
  • Where Our Readers Come From
    …and of course…
  • Our Top 5 Blog Commenters

Here’s an excerpt:

The Louvre Museum has 8.5 million visitors per year. This blog was viewed about 320,000 times in 2013. If it were an exhibit at the Louvre Museum, it would take about 14 days for that many people to see it.

Click here to view the 2013 blog stats from Oh God, My Wife Is German!