Für wie lange bleiben Sie in Deutschland?

I love hearing people speak German.  One day I followed some German tourists.  I didn’t even know what they were saying.  I don’t speak German.  Perhaps they were saying, “Why is the schwarze lady following us?”  They looked like nice people.  They were tall.  The guttural precision and command of the language makes me…amorous. I’ve seen Run Lola Run a few times in German.

I asked German bloggers if they could translate “How long will you be in Germany?”  I want a character in my short story to say it.  These are different translations from the nice German bloggers:

“Für wie lange bleibst Du in Deutschland?”

“Für wie lange bleiben Sie in Deutschland?”

“Wie lange bleibst du in Deutschland?”

During my translation quest, I discovered a couple of friends speak the language.  One spoke German to me yesterday.  It made my eyes roll into the back of my head.  Another friend who speaks German said my pronunciation of the sentence was good and that maybe I was German in another life.  He’s an artist — sometimes they say things like that.

Rammstein had a popular song on the radio called Du Hast.  There’s a song on the cd called Spiel Mit Mir.  Sure it’s about incest between siblings, which I don’t believe in, unless you’re trying to keep your royal blood intact.  Those Germans – so severe, so kinky — ha!  The singer beefs up that “command” thing in this song for a dramatic, menacing effect.  It sounds like he’s hawking up phlegm, and I hate when people actually do that, but to punctuate a sentence — yes.  Here, check it out:

Und, I had sausage this morning, which is very German.

Uhhhh…yeah…I, ah…

I wonder what you bloggers are like all fleshed out.  How do you smell?  Do you have armpit odor? – I love armpit odor.  What color are your auras?  It’s hard to tell from the mini-faces that come when you like my post.  I uploaded Grandma Hattie’s painting for mine.  I hope you like it but if you don’t it’s okay.

Me, well, I’m everything you’d imagine.  Why I’m all, well, kind of…  I’m a biped.  I wear light fragrance.  But I don’t know what I smell like really – it’s kind of hard, you know, being inside of your own body, to smell what you smell like…  I don’t use deodorant.  I use a mineral.  Sometimes it doesn’t work.  When that happens I have, armpit odor.  Um… kinky hair…  My skin has a sheen on it, and, I’m a kind person, actually – brown with round eyes…  Uhhh…yeah.  I, ah — English is my mother tongue.  I speak it fairly well and I know phrases and curse words in other languages. That’s how I’m describing myself now.  I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it.

ALL ABOUT A HO…

Now that I have your attention, maybe you’ll pay more attention to my little Pepto Bismol colored blog!  A cheap trick you say – no no no no no no no no!  Absolutely not!  For I am a severely interesting person saying excruciating – I mean — very very important things — things with subtext, things that require you to read between the lines.  I cannot help you to do this I am afraid, so now, though I know none of these languages, I must bid you, á bientôt, goodnight, auf wiedersehen.

Good seasonings to you all,

Sword-chinned bitch