Flirting in German - Halloween Edition

I know it has been a while since we've got our flirt on, dear reader. But what better time than Halloween? Sometimes it's easier to flirt if you at least look like a superhero...

So learn some sassy (and probably somewhat correct) German and get out there!

Fun Fact Friday - More Than a Mouthful

There are Halloween facts all over the place, dear reader. But I want something special for you. Something fun. That doesn't involve the percentage of people who plan to hand out candy. Because people no longer give me candy. So those facts are no longer fun. But, of course, it turned out that what I thought was just going to be a delightful little fun fact has its own kind of macabre twist.

Fun fact: Barmbrack is a traditional Halloween fortune-telling bread.

Barmbrack trying wicked hard to tell your fortune.

I know, at first take, this fact doesn't seem that fun. I mean, last year I told you about turnips for fuck's sake! How could Barmbrack ever be as fun? Because it had choking hazards baked right into it!

Barmbrack, a semi-sweet bread with raisins and sultanas, was baked to be eaten as part of a Halloween feast and had trinkets inside it. Whatever bric-a-brac came in your slice of Barmbrack was meant to indicate your year ahead. The objects generally included a pea, a bit of cloth, a coin, a stick, and a ring. And don't worry there was something for everyone: riches, spinsterhood, or even a year of wife beating! Oh, tradition!

But the ring? Oh, the ring!

Damn, reader! You look nice today. So, what do you think?

As you might have imagined, the ring in your slice meant you'd be wed within the year. Please enjoy this sample sentence that illustrates what a fucked up Halloween tradition this is a part of:

"Everyone longed for the ring which meant certain marriage before the year ended even if you were only five!" - CatholicCulture.org

So there's that.

But beyond the obvious problems with serving up slices of spousal abuse and child marriage, I wonder what happened if you got conflicting symbols in the same slice of bread. What if you got the rags and the coin? Or the pea of spinsterhood and the ring? I mean, when I bake bread I stir everything up very well. Baking and shit! Also, I don't like sticks in my bread.

I feel obligated to point out that at some point there was also a saintly symbol stirred into the mix, which was supposed to indicate that the winner of that slice would go on to religious life. That particular symbol has apparently been rejected in the modern version of the tradition. But the wife-beating stick? Nah, let's leave that in the fucking cake.

Secular Sunday - Om Nom Nom

Earlier this week an old chum of mine saw this:

You may be too distracted by the bold claim obscuring the rear window to notice that you can learn more about tasty, tasty pets at what I have found to be a surprisingly low-budget website.

To save you the trouble of downloading the file about preparing your pets for dinner, I have some excerpts:

Bonus surprised animal, clearly warranted.

There was some shit about Noah's ark and God telling bitches that we could eat any of the creatures because that's what he made them for. But then later he apparently changes his mind about the pigs... I don't know. Fickle, I guess.

I would like to note that the "PETS ARE DELICIOUS MEAT" campaign provides no recipes. Come on! Those recipes aren't on instagram! And some of you may be saying, "But, Jes! You're Swiss! And this truthful grace lady says your people have been om nom nomming cats and dogs for years!" Unfortunately, the Pikant Katzen recipe is not one that has been passed down in my family. If pets really are delicious meats, I would think this lady should have some meat pies and shit I could make. She does not, which is just rude. Rude, I say!

Also, I think this is the first time I've been told to eat pussy for Jesus.

Fun Fact Friday - Undying Thanks to Croatia

You may or may not know this, dear reader, but men in ties are handsome. Bow ties, long ties, twist ties... I just... sometimes I can't handle the handsomeness.

Fun fact: Neckties were first worn in Croatia, which is why they are called cravats.

Get it? Cool. That's really all of the fun fact info I have, but I wanted to say thank you to Croatia. For bringing me this:

Smile.

And this:

Snicker.

And this:

Smolder.

Related: Nothing soothes a woman's heart like Brian Williams in a purple tie.

Fun Fact Friday - Sweet, Sweet Justice

You may have thought, dear reader, that I squandered an opportunity last week. The Supreme Court had started its fall term, and I blathered on about murderous kittens. And I don't often do Supreme Court fun facts because not many people have t-shirts for their favorite justice like I do. It would have been the perfect excuse.

But you underestimate me, dear reader. Today was another conference day. Another perfect day for a fun fact. And I promise you it's fun. Don't give up on me now. After all, last time I did a SCOTUS fun fact, there were strippers involved. That's right. Strippers.

Fun fact: Three Supreme Court justices - Salmon P. Chase, Felix Frankfurter, and Warren E. Burger - shared their names with food.

"Babe, I wouldn't mind being caught on your hook." - Salmon P. Chase

"I'd love to slide into your buns." - Felix Frankfurter

"Just cover me in mustard and swallow." - Warren E. Burger

I know. Supreme Court justices say the filthiest things to me! I don't know what it is. Maybe they enjoy my briefs. I really can't be certain.

But high court come-ons aside, they have food names. And if the rumors about Ruth Bader Ginsburg looking towards retirement turn out to be true, I'm hoping President Obama will look at appointing someone else with a delicious name. Like Rebecca Bean. Or Elizabeth Chocolate Syrup. Then we'd really know how sweet justice can be.

Surprised Animal Sunday

I'm starting a thing. It's going to be like pregnant people incessantly posting pictures of their swollen stomachs on the Facebook.

That's right. It's going to be huge.

By which I mean, probably not. But I do hope, dear reader, that you will enjoy it.

For awhile I have been assaulting a former coworker of mine with pictures of surprised animals. And holy shitballs, it has been rewarding. Emotionally. Because surprised animals.

Fun Fact Friday - Kittens of Doom

"Woah! Kittens of doom‽" I like to imagine you exclaiming whilst you braid your extra long armpit hair. You see, dear reader, in my mind you are very engaged in reading this interblag and a bit of a freak. And I know the facts don't bear that out. The google masters say that you should actually be part of some Latvian phishing scam. But I don't like to think of you that way. I like to think of you as a part-time nudist, a full-time sassy mentor, and someone who should perhaps find hobbies that don't include extreme body hair manipulation. But enough about you! There are kittens to discuss!

Holy fuckbuttons! They're spooning! Flurbinkgutskunk!

Fun fact: People once believed that cats stole babies' breath.

By which I mean to say that people think cats are murderers. And yes, cats are violent little killers. Scientists did a study that said cats are the deadliest motherfuckers out there. But killing human babies? That seems a little farfetched. Not farfetched enough to mean that people don't still believe it. But what do you want? People to be rational? I'm sorry. You seem to be in the wrong place.

The superstition seems to go back to people thinking cats were witches' bitches. Or, if you're into folkloric terminology, familiars. Basically cats would go out and do witches' bidding, which obviously includes killing babies.

Underpants.

A coroner's report from 1791 actually cited strangulation by a cat as the cause of death. And sure, we can all sneer and say, "That was the 1700s!" but four years ago some doctors writing for the Houston Chronicle said that cats get wicked jealous of newborns and sit on their faces. To murder them. That's right. Pediatric experts said in the year 2009 that they think cats are capable of premeditated murder. Because cats have mens rea written all over their smug little faces.

Murder, I say! Murder!

And I don't know where I planned to go with this fun fact, dear reader. We started with your armpit hair and somehow ended up with doctors providing a new, if implausible, "ripped from the headlines" plot twist for the writers of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. But here we are. And my beloved cat, who I have affectionately nicknamed Pooper, is still wandering in the wild outdoors. Which is a terrible shame because I desperately need to hug him and tell him that I know that if he were going to murder me he surely would have done it by now because I snuggle the bejeezus out of him when he would really prefer to be sleeping. And he's a cat. He's a fucking cat. Who honestly would probably appreciate it if a baby appeared and starting shitting everywhere because then my unemployed ass would have less time to relentlessly assault him with cuddles. But here we are, my dear Latvian phishing scheme reader. Here we are.