I’ve been offline for a while because I’m in Europe with my oldest kid thanks to plane tickets from my parents. THANK YOU, MY PARENTS.
We’re visiting our friends, Mark and Carina, in the Netherlands and making day trips from there. I met Carina through this blog years ago. She became my Dutch pen pal, and I love her times a million. In two weeks, she and Mark are loading up their four kids to come visit us in Oregon, proving she’s at least as nutjobby as me. Wheeee!
So we’ve been go-go-going for days hereabouts, and I haven’t made time in the scramble to write to you.
On the down side, I’m so tired I can’t think or move.
On the bright side, EUROPE.
Also on the bright side, CARBS. Dutch pancakes, Belgian waffles, baguettes, croquettes and beer for DAYS.
Also-also on the bright side, and this is the reason I realized I MUST WRITE YOU, I learned there’s a town in Austria called Fucking.
Ladies and gentlemen, there’s a town in Austria called Fucking.
A whole Fucking town.
THIS IS WHY WE TRAVEL, friends. Because WE CARE ABOUT LEARNING THINGS.
And when we learn things we can share those things with others.
Sharing time is a happy time, which is why I knew I had to tell you:
There’s a town in Austria called Fucking.
Furthermore, and I think you’ll agree this is a critical detail, there’s a town in Germany called Titmoning.
Pronounced tit moning.
And guess what? Guess what?
You have to go through Titmoning to get to Fucking.
I KID YOU NOT.
The 14-year-old boy child who lives perpetually in my brain rejoices. Hard. Also, he giggles and claps.
I mean, sure, there are other routes to Fucking. OF COURSE there are. There are other routes to Fucking; it’s just that Titmoning is obviously one of the better ways to get there.
This is, like, totally a conversation they have in Europe:
“What is the best way to get to Fucking?”
“Well, there are several routes, but I’d definitely go through Titmoning.”
Mark says it only takes about 15 minutes to get from Titmoning to Fucking. Frankly, I think Mark may be a little optimistic, but what do I know?
In conclusion, this world is a wonderful place, and I’m very glad I get to live in it.
P.S. I wish I’d had this information a couple years ago. Then when my kids asked me what fucking is, I could’ve told them it’s a town in Austria. Opportunity missed, folks. Opportunity missed.
P.P.S. There’s a brewery in Fucking. They make two kinds of beer: Fucking beer and Fucking Hell. This is important because it means, practically speaking, next time you want to give someone Fucking Hell, YOU LITERALLY CAN.
P.P.P.S. Lots of new people have been coming to the blog lately to read about Jesus — the Why I Quit Loving the Sinner and Hating the Sin post. I felt like I should maybe apologize to them for writing about Fucking, Austria, but then I realized they’re either a) Jesusy people with a sense of humor, b) non-Jesusy people with a sense of humor, or c) Jesusy people looking for other heretical things I say so they can discount all of what I say, and then I didn’t feel like apologizing anymore because there’s a win for every group in this piece! Everyone gets what they want! WIN/WIN/WIN! Which, like they say in The Office, is WAY better than a Win/Win.
P.P.P.P.S. You’re welcome, everyone. You’re very welcome.