k I hear you cry what the bloody hell happened to Izi!!! Toad said you cracked your skull and everybody wants to know what happened.
Friday March 11th
Location - Russian Woman's Apartment
It all started innocently with a bottle of supermarket vodka spiked with lemon and another bottle of coffee liquer. I drank a few shots of vodka and she clobbered the bulk of the bottle of liquer. Then we had a quick fight for an hour which she described as a 'discussion'. Apparently Marina is part pitbull, but I digress. Said mentioned pitbull settled down as if nothing had happened and said lets go to a night club. I, in a state of mellowness, felt that it was a splendid idea and told her to order a taxi. Off we went to get changed into our best duds and onwards to the said nightclub called Karabas or some such ridiculous arab name.
The nightclub was supposed to wow me because there were naked gogo dancers and a bit of a performance on stage. I've seen the same in Portsmouth (anyone remember Neros?).
Anyway we ordered up a couple of shots of nitro glycerin thinly disguised as vodka and all was well in the world. We sat there and watched the jiggling nakedness and I for one was getting a little bored and have always considered jiggling nakedness a participation sport.
So a dancer appeared across the other side of the dance hall all lit up in bright red. Looked like she was coated in little christmas lights. My curiosity was aroused and Marina suggested that I go and take a look.
This was the beginning of my downfall.
I took on board another shot of jet fuel and Marina insisited on slipping me some of hers. It has to be said that I was not plastered, I was happy but not at all drunk. I felt fine. I walked over the other side of the hall behind of a crowd of people to thoroughly inspect the dancer. I want to make it abundantly clear that neither I nor the dancer were wobbling. Everything was kosher.
After making sure that the dancer was ok got bored again.
I looked for a challenge.
I decided that the said challenge lay in negotiating the bar with no Russian. So I slipped the beautiful, young, voluptuous barmaid a business card which stated that I owned Motorola and ordered a Tuborg beer.
I casually walked back to the Russian Woman and sat down with zero problems. She looked at me funny because of the beer and I was to find out later why. I thought she had seen me slip the byrd behind the bar a card claiming to be John Kerry.
I was wrong.
I took about 2 sips literally of the beer and she said it was late (2.30am) and would I like to go. I said yes that seemed like a good idea and we got up.
I DON'T REMEMBER ANYTHING ELSE!!!!
The underpnat gnomes stole my brain and the next thing I knew I was in bed in my skivvies. It was like the Bermuda Triangle or something. No fog though or spinning compasses. I felt ok so I decided to make a visit to the little boys room.
I managed to get upright - for a short while. Then I came down at speed in an out of control crash dive against a computer table. My head smashed into a steel crossbar and apparently the table was stronger than my bonce.
There was a lot of blood but I was convinced it was nothing. Anyway I didn't want to wake the pitbull and have another fight in the middle of the night. So I staggered to the loo and did what a man has to do. It was at this point that I realised that I looked like an escapee from the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. I was coated in blood from head to foot and my skivs were soaked in the stuff.
I decided to take a shower. I managed to get somewhat cleaned up and staggered back to the bedroom past the sleeping Marina and daughter. I had the presence of mind to put a towel down and promptly passed out again.
In the morning everybody had a good time screaming at me. I enjoyed the attention and claiming it was all nothing.
There was blood everywhere and for a while Marina thought that I had butchered one of the cats and eaten it raw. She screamed, I cleaned and all was well.
Then she decided that she better play nurse. She looked at my head and said that it was serious and there were a lot of "oh no's" and prodding. She bandaged my head and decided to take me to hospital.
The hospital/doctor was somewhat weird. It consisted of 3 women one of whom was ancient and apparently the doctor. Marina translated bringing the ratio up to 4 to 1.
She was very nice and attempted to be friendly and say what little English she knew.
"Hello, Bobby Charlton, fish and chips" and my favorite "is this the train to heathrow?".
Filled with confidence in her medical abilities I had a quick haircut and was forced to lay down on what appeared to be a kitchen table with an old flowery sheet thrown over it.
The old lady doctor continued to sooth me by poking fun at me via Marina while her assistant put me in a head lock and pinned me to the table.
I tapped the table in the international sign of submission and waited for the appearence of the ref. I figured a quick count to three, they'd release me and I would walk free.
They had me where they wanted me and needles were plunged in and there was a lot of pushing and pressing. Apparently I had a lot of trapped blood on my scalp and head right down to the skull bone. I had split my head open down to the bone and they were releasing the blood with a scalpel. Cold wet stuff poured over my face and neck. The table became awash. My shirt was soaked.
I asked Marina what was going on and she said that the doctor told her she was going to get "mediaeval on my ass" !! I didn't expect this from an old Russian doctor and it worried me. Then she came at me with a big ass needle and a glint in her eye.
I didn't have time to escape, she crocheted her name into my scalp and asked for 400 rubles. I was just glad it was over. Marina washed me in the
Marina washed me in the sink and we went back into the doctors room. There was a lot of talk in Russian and I slipped the old biddy 500 R. She refused and then accepted and said I was welcome back anytime. They then gave me a shot in my back and said come back in a week - which I did not!!
It turns out that apparently everybody knows, in Russia anyway, that you don't drink beer with vodka. It results in
2. head injuries
3. visits to maniacal OAP doctors.
They even have funny movies about this, Marina wanted to show me one. Apparently it is common knowledge. Also she had no problem scooping me up off the floor, getting my coat on me, pouring me into a taxi, then with the aid of the taxi driver lifting me out of a snow drift where I had fallen flat on my face. She then coaxed me up umpteen flights of stairs while I had apparently switched languages and wouldn't say anything except in French and Spanish. She thinks it is normal and just a funny story.
I will never be the same however.
So remember my fellow FSU suitors the perils of vodka and beer. Be cautious and treat these Russian delicacies with respect lest you become physically and emotionally scarred like me. Vodka is your friend - but not with beer!
My Jenia claimed to be an expert in the catagory of wines. I'm just a beer drinker but on Valentine's Day at a nice Moldovan restaurant we put down three bottles of their finest champagne. It was very funny listening to a drunk Russian woman trying to speak English while explaining that drinking too much is something that she doesn't do. After wiping all the slobber off her mouth, I had to help her back home. ( actually we ended back at my place, she just thought she was home)
Vodka and beer....very dangerous stuff when drunk together! I thought that it was a well-known fact that these things shouldn't be mixed up together...I myself never drink vodka (only on the funeral had to, but on that day it seamed like I was drinking water, not a single effect, and I wished so much it would effect me), but I also know that fact.
I can think of no medical reason why beer and vodka would have a greater effect together except that one has to add the alchohol (of course) together. But I DID notice I drank a LOT MORE vodka over there than I would ever have had to drink under similar circumstances here. Part of it was the neccessity of making toast with every drink and the fact that you no sooner put down your shot glass than it was filled again. Part of it is also that as a man - it is required that you drink shots, lots of shots, and finish them each time. "Kentucky Sipping Whiskey" has no place in the FSU.
I did find a similar admonition to mixing beer and vodka, or wime and vodka, or even wine and beer - but my lady (my fiance) carried it to extremes. If I had a glas of wine at 6:00 (18:00) she would discourage me from having a single beer at 9:00 (21:00) - but having another wine - or grape derived beverage like cognac (divin) was okay.
On another trip, to Latvia, I met up with the fmous ability of Russian people to down a whole lot more alchohol than westerners and show little effect from it. I spent my time with a 20 year old woman who was half my weight. We drank exactly the same number of shots (which was...a whole lot) and she showed less effect than I did.
Jet I only know what I know. It happened. I am a laughing stock in Ekaterinburg. Just glad the papers didn't get hold of it.
"Ignorant Brit American drinks vodka and beer and lives to tell the tale. Says divine intervention saved his life. Read all about it".
Pitichka knows about this, I didn't.
Nas derovia everyone
Izi, you got normal blackout... just too much of alcohol. It could be anything. Bear always helps. When I was a student in Siberia, during the deficit time of USSR, our group of students to get drunk cheap always bought 20 liters of bear s and mix it with 2 bottle of vodka. Do not worry to much. It is normal phenomena in Ekaterinburg for people to get drunk like that:) at least you did not hurt anybody else but you. At least now you have something to laugh about.
"I only know what I know" - that apparently is riddled with holes, maybe the teethmarks of a Pitbull. So your ego is shot whilst yer face is marked, but we all choose inappropriate times to make an ass of ourselves.
Pour Tequila in me and inevitably witness a reverse digestive volcano. Lemon-flavoured gin, with sugar added, does zilch until I open the door to the outside, and then I'll ride any two-wheeler backwards, and a car from the boot. A single flaming lamborghini (a 7-shot cocktail) does lots more than a blowjob and/or sex on the beach but only after impotence has set in, and brandy/coke for an evening makes me happily aggressive.
When in Rome do as... etc, but I'm not at all a big drinker really. No vodka for me unless mixed, and forget about any customs or challenges. They both will make me an unhappy looser with unhappy lasting regrets afterwards, so I will opt for standing out as a foreigner. But then again, I've never been shy of the fact that I'm quite moderate with my booze intake.
If you, hope not habitually, quite happily plaster a bottle of the stuff then fine, but surely you'll be a bit more wary of the clear super-octane next time. And that, in fact, is the reason of me posting here - you will continue with your K9 relationship? Your wording makes me wonder, and as Dale said, they're not allowed everywhere...
I wish I hadn't double posted this is confusing!!
Olga can you put A and B on these 2 threads or something???
I have never had a blackout in my life before and this was definitely the beer. It was weird. No wonder she looked at me strange when I returned with a beer in hand. The amazing thing is the way she took this all in stride. That is, it is quite normal for men to do this and it is the womans job to get him home safely.
I WILL NEVER DO THIS AGAIN!!! It is scary to lose your memory. I feel like Ray Milland in "Lost Weekend" :)))))
Yes upwards and onwards with the Russian K9. Never let it be said I am a quitter. I will give it more time and if it is a gonna I have an inbox full of ladies interested in me. They can't resist my good looks and sparkling wit.
Do you really want the Einstein / Shwarzenegger thing?? One is dead the other has been drinking too much beer and not enough vodka. Incidentally I have found some vodka with apple in it and I have been sipping it in front of the telly.
Will he never learn they say.
NO, NEVER I SAY. I have a job to do damn it. I am going for a matching scar on the other side of my noggin. Anyway I am going for another hair transplant soon and I will have a few stitches anyway. A little crop rotation on the top. I would like to go back with a full thatch. The Russian Woman doesn't understand this and says I should just be bald. That is so easy to say when you have thick blonde hair, gorgeous grey eyes and hips that wiggle when you walk.
I had 3 main hobbies while I was out there 2 of which are suitable for this forum. The first was checking out Russian winter hats. It started to become quite serious when I went over to a points system, Marina got into the swing of this with me. I am quite concerned because when I return it will be summer and there will be no hats. Hats are innocent. Young women with miniskirts up to their armpits are not and I am only human. I will deal with this problem 1 miniskirt at a time.
The second was encouraging her to walk in front of me so I could enjoy the view, this she did not get into the swing of with me. I did frequently share my feelings about this though and apparently we men are all the same. I don't care it is still fun by any measure.
Now I have become verklempt and I have to go and lie down behind the fridge for a while. I'll be ok, I'll talk to you later.
Hair transplant or not.. I think it all has to do with being comfortable and feel good about yourself. I am bald, and are proud of it. The hair I have left, I cut very close to the skin. By having the remaining hair so short most people does not think of me as bald actually. It just looks like I have a really short haircut. The worst think to do when the hair is starting to fall off is to keep the length on the remaining hair, it looks like you have glued a couple of cat-skins over both ears... just cut it off!! I feel kind of manly with my hair, most women tell me it is quite macho. It is not like 15 years ago, at that time people felt it was embarrassing to loose the hair. Time has changed, at least here in Norway it is almost "cool" to be bald. I am lucky of course, because the only thing I am lacking in my life is complexes about myself, even if I am sure I should have had some.. LOL
I think it is cool with bald, and it seems most females do also in the FSU, at least the ones I have been in contact with, not a single one of them has mentioned my hair, or the lack of hair. The ones I have asked have told me it is "sign of much man". The loss of hair happens because you have a lot of male hormons. But to wrap this up, it is all up to each and one of us, to feel comfortable is the main thing :)))