Give me baby let’s go

15 Dec

bus-stop

This was taken from my journal, more or less word for word.  The scene is a bus stop in Liznjan about a mile from my hostel.  The bus stop and I are well acquainted as I could not decipher the bus schedule and the vehicle never seemed to arrive at the same time two days in a row.  At some points it sounds cocky, then dips into self-deprecation…either way don’t judge me too harshly based off my bored ramblings.

So I am at this piss ridden—but not entirely unpleasant–bus stop in Liznjan, Croatia again reading the same expired posters I have read so many times before.  My favorite is a promotion for some local dance club.  The background of the poster featured a sweaty and seductive set of tits belonging to an athletic and Mediterranean-sun-bronzed woman, with just the bottom of her perfect face dipping into view.  She was looking over towards her left shoulder and if you followed her gaze you would be led to a series of promotional sentences written in English.

The party, apparently, came with “electro dee-jay” and “sexy Hostess!” But the finest line on the poster was also the most emboldened.  It read, “Sex tonight???…Yes…No…Give me baby lets go.”   I know what you’re thinking; that’s just broken English and I’d like to see you write a poster in Croatian.  But I would argue this point.  I think that these poster-makers knew exactly what they were saying and perhaps are even on the Croatian governments payroll.  Allow me to explain.

It is clear that the Croatian government wants American tourists to attend these dance orgies, meet some sexy Croatian hostess, and give her a baby. Perhaps, if you have a baby on hand, they will accept that as payment, but more often than not you will have to provide the sexy hostess with baby the old fashioned way:  By humping.  The Croatians want these Ameritian babies to booster not only their numbers, but their economy as well.  See, once we learn of our Ameritian love-child we will no doubt take great interest in the offspring and send over checks backed with powerful American dollars into Croatian banks.  That money, in turn, will go into such things as: The blossoming diaper industry in Pula, the babyfood mill on the outskirts of Zagreb and the Zucchini Brothers Festival that saturates the Dalmatian coast with tourist dollars every Harvest Moon.

Once the children reach adulthood they will no doubt want to serve in the Military as they have pugnacious and restless American blood coursing through their veins.  Yes indeed, they will be Spartans with the enviable genetics we yanks bring to the breeding equation.  The whole world knows we’re great for breeding. Ask anyone.  Anyways, this generation will spur on another generation and so on and so on until Croatia is super-power once more…or for the first time.  Why Americans though?  Why not Canadians, or Germans, or Chinese, or Mexicans?  What makes Americans so special?  Well, friends, you just said it right there.  The United States of American can provide a civilian of any race, religion or hair color, kind of like a giant terrifying, human soda dispenser.  By choosing Americans as the suckers for this scheme, they are insuring themselves a wide variety of hereditary variables that can make a country thrive.

The whole scheme is as brilliant as it is diabolical and I applaud the officials who drew it up.  I need to get out of the sun.  This heat is fermenting the piss and I believe the gasses are making me schizophrenic.

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