I like questions 12 and 17 the best. I think anecdoty are terribly unfunny and holodetz is disgusting though I chose ‘pizdets’ as the answer because it’s funny.
Your soul is weak, my friend. Nearly transparent. Yet it is there. The whore of the west has implanted her syphillitic “culture” into your private parts. You must get out into the countryside and subsist on a diet of fresh goat’s milk and cucumbers until you are pure.
Posted by Karol at 01:56 AM
Technorati Tags: Russian+Soul+Quiz
That quiz purred away real horrorshow, nice, warm, vibraty all through my gulliwuts. You and your slovoes, my devotchka. My gulliver hurts from all this chepooka.
I’m feeling a bit shagged and fagged and fashed, it having been an evening of some small energy expenditure. I’m off to the Korova to meet my droogs, o my brothers, droogs and moloko plus. Good for laugh and lashings. And after, something by old Ludwig Van, something to make all the malenky hairs on my plott stand all endwise. O bliss. Bliss and heaven.
Then, brothers, it came. O bliss, bliss and heaven, oh it was gorgeousness and georgeosity made flesh. The trombones crunched redgold under my bed, and behind my gulliver the trumpets three-wise, silver-flamed and there by the door the timps rolling through my guts and out again, crunched like candy thunder. It was like a bird of rarest spun heaven metal or like silvery wine flowing in a space ship, gravity all nonsense now. As I slooshied, I knew such lovely pictures. There were veeks and ptitsas laying on the ground screaming for mercy and I was smecking all over my rot and grinding my boot into their tortured litsos and there were naked devotchkas ripped and creeching against walls and I plunging like a shlaga into them.
I got three so called matreshka. Thanks for the quiz.
Despite hanging out in Bensonhurst a lot, even living there for a year and a half, I got the lowest possible score- five Elvis dolls. I am the least Russian person in all of southern Brooklyn, then.
Speseba bolshoi. Funniest thing I read all week. I showed it to my Odessa-born wife, who promptly said the writer wrote in “bad English” like he was “just off the boat.” What could be more Russian than a response like that?!