as we walked along kaiser-josef-strasse yesterday morning, holding hands, dirk planted his right, flip-flop clad foot accidentally, but firmly and completely nonetheless, into a bächle.

legend has that when that happens, you'll marry a local.

do i count as a local, after 6 years here?
the jury is still out on that one, but nonetheless, i couldn't help laughing, and kept telling him throughout the day that he was verloren now. he insisted that he had gewonnen though, instead.

he.