Things I Think I Overhear From Old Austrian Men Playing Chess in the Park

(Note: Oh no! My computer is broken. Posts will be infrequent, but hopefully pick up again when I return to the United States for the summer - June 17th. Also, be on the lookout for a certain new blog featuring a certain feature actor from the films "Tremors" and "Hollow Man" and a certain breakfast meat.)

--You played an excellent match. You are as brilliant as the President Bush.
--I deserve no such praise. No one is as smart as smart as he.
--Or as handsome.
--I will paint a picture of him.
--Let me give you money for it.

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--Why aren't you wearing lederhosen today?
--I do not always wear lederhosen.
--But you are Austrian.
--As are you.
--I plan to wear lederhosen later.
--Stereotypes are not funny.
--No, they are not.
--Schnitzel?
--Absolutely.

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--I've taken your rook.
--No, you've taken my heart.
--If you truly love me, stretch your arms and then rub your soiled back brace.
--...
--My soul dances with solemn respectfulness.

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--You are in checkmate. I experience a feeling analogous to orgasm brought on by a beautiful woman.
--I imagine sex with your wife, then, is analagous to winning the Special Olympics.
--Funny. Isn't the Special Olympics where you met your wife?
--I invite you to watch "The Sound of Music" with me in my mansion.
--I thought you'd never ask.

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--What do you like best about being old?
--The diapers.
--The diapers?
--I finally have something to transport sauerkraut across county lines.
--I knew I smelled something.
--Quiet. Big Brother.

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--Careful bringing your queen out.
--I envision you regularly warning your son with those very words.
--I do not understand.
--Your progeny lusts for cross-dressers.

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--Who is that young one, writing in his diary?
--I do not know.
--How is he so beautiful?
--He may very well be a son of George Bush.
--Were I more worthy, I would ask to wash his feet.