Zoltan Karpathy’s Blog
Hi, I’m Zoltan Karpathy. That’s right, like the famous dude in My Fair Lady. I’m a Goatherder in Moldova, up in the mountains and madly in love with the Pub Landlords’ Daughter Chriszty Stanislv. Here you can read about my life in Moldova. Enjoy!
No bandage when you need them
Why is the first aid kit always empty? That b*stard goat just bit me finger! Now I have to walk 5 miles, 3,000 ft down to the village and it’s late already.
O and Chriszty: That pl*nker Boris is no good for you!
Annual Fair in Criuleni
I done a lot of work polishing up The Billy Goat to take him for the Biggest Goat Nuts Contest on the Annual Fair in Criuleni. I hope I win this year.
Last year Boris won and he’s just obnoxious …
… and thick as a brick.
I bribed my sister to mind the goats while I’m gone but I reckon she’ll be snogging her beau in the hay instead, like last year.
Thumbs up for The BG. May his nuts be the greatest this year!
Whooo! Li’ll nippy up here. I put up a wee camp fire but I got carried away and it now has the size of a Moderate Bonfire. Lookee here ye, I’m dancing around it. Not that I really enjoy getting up in the morning but it’s the only way to keep myself warm, I’m freezing me private bits off.
Big day today, I’ll be heading off to the Annual Fair with The Billy Goat after coffee.
Cross yer fingers for me. I’m off to bed (that’s my bedroom in the picture).
The Billy Goat won the contest!
It was an icy cold day last Saturday so we all wore our muffs on the Annual Fair in Criuleni. Last night I had a drinking game with Boris, whom I hate with a passion. But since I had to win the Biggest Goat Nuts Contest and get my sweetheart for me and me alone I had to take drastic measures.
So I spiked Boris’ Guinness with Dutch Gin (Jonge Olifant it’s called, wicked stuff that is).
And I succeeded: he overslept. YESSS!!!
And since I was miles ahead of that boy from Drochia, his billy goat being only three years old, I won with a mile headstart. No other contestants, drum roffle, Zoltan wins!
Boris had a humongous hang over and Chriszty was all mine that day. She’ll come up my mountain later to get her share of that Magnum so I put up a fire and even got some fresh hay in the shed. Oh goodie! 😀
Bye for now.
This is Billy.
Off to Church
Well then. I’ll be heading off to Church in a few minutes. I put on my Sunday Best for the occasion and hammered down the Large Pin for The Billy Goat, who apparently feels a wee li’ll wild this morning (the horny bugger).
It’ll be the first time since I was banned as a child from coming to church. I and two friend had put green lemonade squash in the Holy Water and we drank it with straws. The priest created a big fuss about it and said we’d be going to Hell for that but all we went was the shed for punishment. Anyway, we couldn’t burn in Hell since we drank the entire bowl of Holy Water.
We were never allowed to get in after that and whenever the priest spotted us he mumbled something like: “Go to Hell.” (the grumpy b*stard).
Today is a special occasion since my friend will be communiorized or something.
Let’s all pray I won’t get chased out of church today. Don’t you think I should be granted Absoludization after so many years?
The Aliens Are Coming!
This morning my goats went ballistic! I woke up way too early finding they were rattling their dented bells and blatting their tongues out. They were all facing the opposite mountain where a large mysterious light was shining near the top. At the same time three bright streaks of light were coming down from the sky and it seems they were heading for that humongous light on the mountain.
So I started running down to the valley and up the next mountain to the strange light. As I was coming near the light I noticed Mrs. Krnjashtivotsjh the Bleacher Woman her house was on fire. She was screaming her head off outside the drunk harlot. I reckon she’d be smoking in bed again, she done that before you know.
The shooting stars happened to be coincidental. Darn. No Aliens.
Ooh, nothing ever happens over here.
So here I am in a hospital bed, sweating like a Gouda cheese in the hot summer sun. Fever does weird things with the mind I can tell you that. For some reason -of which I believe it is the fever- I am desperately longing for a proper cooked ‘Breakfast in Bed’. You know, The Works, beans, sausies, mushrooms, eggs, bacon on deep fried toast. And none of the ingredients, except for the beans, which Heinz sells world wide, can be found here.
So I’m stuck basically. I tried to explain it to the one of the nurses who is sweet but dumb as a vase, but she came back with porridge. Which I slung back at her in a tantrum. In a reaction to this she went straight to the Head Doc who sedated me and slapped me in the face. The only thing I did was the porridge thing, no need for those harsh measurements surely!
So here I am, like a ‘Rag Doll’ in bed, in my head a -not really unpleasant- buzz from the medication and I apologized to the nurse. She smiled with a sarcastic self content smile so I whispered: “when I get out of here I tell your boyfriend we had a good snogging session.” Even if it’s not true but you know the song ‘Don’t get Mad, get Even’.
Do you know any other song for me that makes me feel better?
Goats aren’t always nice
Last year one of them ate my laptop so I had to shoot the bugger for revenge, but I got myself a second hand PowerBook 500 MHz now, it’s an Apple so I take extra care of keeping it away from those b*strd critter goats.
HAMMERTIME!!! Here comes the priest!
As you may have read, I’ve been in hospital for 10 days or so, I lost track of it due to the fever. The Pneumonia Devil whooped my ass real good. So Head Doc told me yesterday that I will be here for another 10 days. I try not to let that put me down (hahaha cynical joke) and at least the Nurses are really nice (and cheeky for that matter). Most of the time they get old smelly folks in dying already as they’re wheeled in so I reckon I’m a playful change for them.
But this morning another pleasant surprise came to me: the priest came to visit me! WOW!!!
At first I thought he was coming to give me another bollocking about what happened when I was a kid (read a few blogs back) but in fact he was really nice and brought cherry chocs for me.
“So priest. Isn’t it time to bury the hatchet by now?” I was going to say but the chocs blew me off my feet. Instead he grumped: “Shot yer gob. Let me speak.” “I’m sorry I held a grudge for so long and when you get better you may come back to church again.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Well, God must loved your singing. So did we, you sing like a Lark in love. But don’t get carried away with it, we will see you next time son.” And off he went.
Well then, there you have it. They loved my singing.
I reckon I’m Absolutely Absoludidized by now. That’s good. Real good!
Ok. I was recuperating from this nasty pneumonia last year when I got back to my home only to find out that my beloved Chrizsty got knocked up by Boris the dumb f*ck and I instantly went insane. They locked me up you know.
I can tell you one thing about mental asylums in Moldova, once you’re in you never get out. And I should know. The nurses in the funny farm in Chişinău are bitches or witches I don’t know the right word for them maybe both, and they should be burnt on a stack of wood either way.
In the end I came up with a brilliant idea though. The shrink in the institution apparently had a crush on the plant in my window sill at home (I showed him a picture and he got really excited) and so I had it sneaked in to trade with him for a day out. It’s really weird you know, the minute he got his hands on the plant it he plucked a leaf and started to roll a ciggy with it. Just his luck, if I had known I could smoke it I would’ve done it a long time ago.
So yesterday I started a runner leaving the fat nurse behind in the park. And there’s no way I’m going back. I’m FREEEEE!!!!!
Run, Run, Run!!!
Yesterday I told you that I took a runner to escape from the looney bin. I got a lift from a smelly but friendly truck driver to Satul Răuţel and that got me thinking. Hey, I might as well run to England for all I care. Chriszty is a goner, Boris wants my skin after I called him names.
So I run like hell, like in that Pink Floyd song. And if there’s one thing I could really go for, it will be cooked breakfast. I really want breakfast, man I’m hungry!
Do you reckon they have goats to herd in England?
P.S. Last night I fell asleep in the hay with the little Lambs and now my undies itch.
Hello from me again
I am so sorry I couldn’t find the time to write in this diary. So many things have happened and I sort of lost this diary in my belongings in the shed up in my mountain. Well, it isn’t my shed anymore as my cousin has taken over my job minding the goats.
But, as I read the last page, o well I might as well start off where I ended last time. But first things first: I married Chriszty! After I escaped from the Funny Farm I hid myself at the other end of the village. I couldn’t just go back to my mountain could I now? Lucky for me it was Summer and the place I was hiding belonged to the Bakery. Plenty of bread in there, all I had to do was sneak out every once in a while to nick some dried hams from the ceiling next door.
After two weeks I decided to come out of the shed and pay Chriszty a visit. She had been sulking in her room after Boris left her and she couldn’t find me. She told me she phoned the Asylum to inquire for me, first time the Nurse slammed down the phone. Second time another nurse, one of the rare friendly ones, told her I was a goner and they couldn’t be bothered to go look for me. So she was not at all happy until she saw me peeking through her bedroom window.
And after explaining to her father he decided to let me stay but only if I promised to take care of his daughter for the rest of my life and that I had to get a proper job. Which I did, I got an apprenticeship at The Leatherman, the local shoe repair. I’m a quick learner and once I got the hang of it and I paid my tab in the pub to Chriszty’s father the Landlord we got married after three years or so.
And so here I am, so glad I could escape and got where I wanted to be. We live in a little house here in the village now us three (she has a little daughter), no more goat herding for me. Now I found this diary I might write more often again.