My apartment mate likes to eat with her boyfriend Wheelie Boy. And to that end, she cooks frequently. Which means that I have to stay out of the kitchen. This should not be a problem, except that there are occasions when I also would like to eat, and do NOT wish to go out for a burrito, no matter how scrumptious.
She cooked last night. I have NO idea when Wheelie Boy will enjoy the Tarragon Chicken, the fire-roasted vegetables, the pasta with pesto, or the mushroom whatever that dish is (his micro wave will let him know).
By the time I was ravenous the kitchen was still occupied.
The whole apartment smelled utterly delicious.
The Mexican place was closed.
I am not the kind of person who lets hunger dominate his life. Hah! Food means nothing to me! At my age I've tasted it all before. Far, I say far, be it from me to grouchily sit in front of my computer endlessly playing food videos. Ich habe keine existenzangst.
Did I already mention that I have superhuman tolerance, and am saintly and calm? At all times?
NEW YORKSKIE TAKSIST
[Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aEZfCv3Ko1Q.]
This song has NO connection to the hunger, or the realization that eating alone is altogether miserable and unappealing.
Nor do I have any clue what the lyrics mean.
The song is a Russian criminal-type chanson, and sounds evocative of struggle and frustration. Plus it has a catchy beat.
Tarragon Chicken, fire-roasted vegetables, pasta with pesto.
And a mushroom whatever that was.
I have never had Tarragon Chicken.
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A QUESTION OF LIFE STYLE
My apartment mate, who has an almost clinical interest in certain things, was sharing details about cyst sacs from her side of the table on ...
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The king of Russian blatnoy chanson, singing "Why the Aborigines ate Cook"
Niu Yorkskie Taksist
Ja tut Vamerikje uzhe tshitiri goda
pazhülva Vsjekh Jijo Izvjestnikh Garadakh
Mnje nji panjat jijo svabodnava naroda
minja prisledijet-za budushi Jestrakh
kagda prijekhel razabralza otshin Büistra
zakurku Khlieba sdjes Prikhoditsa Pakhat
Sdjes Kharasho Zhivut bankiri i-ministri
Izdjes ljubomu-na ljubova natshikhat
sjuda pripp jorsi-ya i znoinava sukhuma
tam pa prafessi-i Jabüil kafkaski Vorr
Dalutshi Fsokhnut mnje Fpustini KaraKuma
Tshem Padpisat Sibja Pasorni Prigavorr
kagda prijekhel Topetalsa gde vazmozhna
pa spitzialnasti Rabotet Varavskoi
Vsjo niznakoma Mne I otshin astarozhna
Shmanat-karmane natshel opatnei rukoi
Nopa karmanam shastat Büistra nadajela
I ja paliess tuda gde tzeli million
tak palitzeiskije Shnarutshniki nadjelli
Ja biül Ftjurmu dla ugalovnikov svison
No priglasil-ja paru Vidnikh advakatav
Sa dingi tshiorta dazhe mogut apravdat
Ja Viüzhil tshistim I nivtshjom nivinavatem
klinussja Vöetam bek svaboddini Vidat
ja savizat rishjil Sprafessiji shakala
sibja skazal jani mali i ni prassi
I Fdrugnitshaina mne sovjist padskazala
anni pashol vüiti rabotet na taksi
I-ja pasholl na-eta katarrshnaja diala
pakhal kak fraier at zari ida zari
adnazhdi sovjest varavskaia tak zadiela
Fsibja kak Fsuku pljonul tshiort minja diri
atshjom tut ritsh - skazhu zrabotel janitshissta
shto akkazalsa Vetam zapadnam Raju
tam tshilavjekam Büil asdjes jastall taksistam
svajo sdarovie na asfaltje pradaju
minja igrabili ipprosta nji platili
i askarbljali-na angliskam jizike
adnazhdi zvolotshi minja tshut ni ubili
taksi ugnali-ja virnulsja nalikh ke
pakhat taksistam Vovshem dealet niplakhoje
kapustu moshna sdijs kharoshujo rubit
noya büil vuinuzhdijn za dijla zatakoje
zvaio dastojennstvo mush-skoje pogubit
napalavinu vsjosh-ja büil intaligentam
ljubil Jobab kak eta mozhna ni panjatt
Ftaksi-ja prosta stal aktivnim impatjentam
minja na babu i damkratam nipadnjat
ja prikhazhu damoi ustali i razbiti
i priam Fadiezhdi ja baljusja nakravat
a zavtra snova dlia kapriznikh parasitaf
mnes pazaranku büil-ja prokljati vstavat
sitzhu kak tshort vsigda Fbinsinovam durmanje
a notshiu znjatsa raman titsheskija sni
ja tshasta sonni shärju Fsubstinekh karmanakh
privitshki Vora udivitilna silni
Para Savjazevat Mnis tshjorne rabotei
I snova Bratsaa sasvitoje rimislo
khatshu shtob Zhil Jakak Fsukhumi bissabotna
I shtob apjat mnje zafartijla Vsjem naslo
khatshu shtob Zhüilja-kak Fsukhumi bizzabotna
I shtob apjatt mnje zefartila Vsjem Naslo
https://lyricstranslate.com
I've been here in America four years already
And lived in all her famous cities
can't understand the 'freedom' people have here
instead i'm haunted by nightmares of the future
When I arrived I figured out very quickly
You'll have to plow for every crumb of bread
Bankers and Ministers live well here
And the rest all try to live off each other
I came here from sultry Sokhumi (1)
Where by profession I was a caucasian thief
But i better had gone to dry in the Karakum desert
than sign myself this shameful verdict
When I arrived, I tried, wherever possible
To work in my profession as a thief
Everything was new to me, and carefully
I began to pick pockets with experienced hand
But I quickly got fed up with it
and instead tried to make a whole million (X)
So the cops put handcuffs on me
And took me to prison, where criminals go.
But geeze, I invited a couple of prominent lawyers
Who would even bail out the devil for money
So i came out all clean and innocent
I swear to god - of freedom, there was no trace.
I tried to part ways with the profession of a Jackal
Said to myself: Don't beg or ask.
And suddenly my conscience kicked in:
Hey, couldn't you drive a taxi ?
So I introduced myself to this hard labour
Grinded like a sucker, from dusk to dawn
And thus my conman pride took a beating
As if a bitch spat on me, I'll be damned!
What's all this talk ? let's say: I worked a crap profession
Just what had happened in this western paradise
over there I'd been a human, here a taxi driver
Who whored himself out on the asphalt
I was plundered, they simply didn't pay
And heaped abuse in english language on me
One time some bastard almost killed me
The taxi got hijacked, i went home on foot
Grinding the taxi basically isn't a bad job
You can make quite a decent dollar (3)
But for me to work in such a manner
It just killed my human dignity
I had halfway turned into an intellectual
But loved the women - is that so hard to understand?
In the taxi I was simply a living impotent
I couldn't raise my jacklift for a single lady! (4)
I dragged myself home, tired and broken
And fell into bed, still wearing my clothes
And again tomorrow, for some bad-tempered parasites
I was damned to get up so early
Like some devil, constantly engulfed in exhaust fumes
At night I dream romantic dreams
While I fiddle around in my own pockets
It's surprisingly hard for a thief to break the habit
It's time to take up the sinister craft once more
And again practice my 'special trade' (5)
I wanna live the way I used to, carefree in Sukhumi
And find my luck again, despite all.
I wanna live the way I used to, carefree in Sukhumi
And find my luck again, despite all.
https://lyricstranslate.com
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