Damien Galeone

I practiced my new phrase in the bathroom at work, furrowing my brow and emoting sturdy facial expressions in the mirror. I alternated between singing the phrase and declaring it with grave conviction. It was a dedicated practice, done in the midst of my morning routine of coffee, lesson-planning and avoiding the German teachers.

I checked the phrase again: Zvládnul to – It has been managed

Eager to use the phrase, I completed a minor task and stomped over to my boss’s office, which houses all the heads of the language departments at the university. I set my chin, knuckled the table and announced to the room, “Ja to zvadnul.”

I had dropped the L.

Everyone in the room, including one of my beautiful students who was having a consultation with her French teacher, erupted into laughter. In my patented method of self-defense, I began sweating like John Goodman and shifting towards the door. They finally regained their composure enough to tell me through teary eyes and red faces that I had just announced, in round about, grammatically poor Czech (insult/injury), that I had just gone impotent.

I had been rendered impotent by an L. This hardly seemed fair.

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I have decided to join the dark side and start a blog. In development, I have realized something depressing – everyone in the world is better at stuff than I am. I have no tangible skills. At all. My advice is only useful if someone does the exact opposite of what I suggest. Nevertheless, I do have a cache of entertaining, often embarrassing, anecdotes and a somewhat humorous outlook on life.

There are three main reasons for this blog.

First, I love telling a good story and thought people might enjoy reading them.

Secondly, more than telling stories, I love being sedentary. I would wallow in procrastination if I didn’t keep putting it off. I don’t clean my flat (apartment) until an hour before company comes over. And then, only if that company is unrelated to me and female. If I don’t leave my house on any given day, you can guarantee that I won’t brush my teeth or change out of pajamas. If I had the opportunity, I would spend all of my time watching reruns, eating something that ends with the suffixes -ito or –pounder, and singing tunes that are half Johnny Cash, half gibberish to my cat. Forcing myself to write a blog means that I must put out work every Monday and Thursday.

The third reason, and the single greatest impetus behind most creative endeavors, is that I lost my remote control.

There are subsidiary reasons: nobody will be seen in public with me, I thought this might get me laid and the doctor suggested doing something creative to quell the ‘rage’.

So, if you’re having a bad day, maybe a quick read about expat life in Prague, travelling, fat man exercise, tall women, or my cat’s daily adventures battling the bathroom door will give you a chuckle. In a word, laugh at me, my cat, my journeys and the strange characters I have surrounded myself with in this Eastern European jewel of a city.

To get right into it, tune in tomorrow to find out how a missing letter (the sinister ‘L’, to be exact) made me impotent.