On synchornicity and things Polish.

In a bizarre coincidence I took my first (and did not take my second, but more about that later) photograph of Poglish at its best. More or less at the same time Lisa sent me an email with a bit of Poglish too... spooky...
OK, here it is:

One could just snap, walk off and forget, but not me, oh no...
I had to spend another hour digesting the message and trying to make sense out of it.
Here's my theorem ("A general proposition not self-evident but proved by a chain of reasoning; a truth established by means of accepted truths." And not even a pretty face!):
The whole sign is a marketing ploy to confuse the potential shoppers. You may assume they are dropping their prices down to zero, nothing, zilch, which is a very attractive price for anything really and know no English; in reality however they are just stating that by offering to drop their prices by zero percent they can afford to have multiple instances of a sale at the same time. I am sure that being in a University city the shop has consulted philosophers, quantum physicians as well as professors of English literature. I challenge thy to prove me wrong.
There's also a chance that the whole thing is merely a figment of our imaginations, a mirage fashion outlet indeed.


I have been severely punished by mother nature (Baby Jesus?) as soon after taking this photo it got severely cold, windy and rainy. I hid for a couple of hours in Nowa Prowincja where both mother nature or Baby Jesus dare not venture (as seen in the Krakow Busy video).
With a belly full of yummy coffee I did another round of the city and decided to head home per pedes.
Feeling (again) cold and miserable I decided to acquire a few comfort items, namely a packet of paprika flavoured chips and a box of pierniczki. Anyone tried the Polish soft gingerbreads in dark chocolate? No? Well, you should. Head to Balaclava and seek'em.
At the shop, the shop lady was engrossed in a heated conversation with another 60-something lady, which I completely ignored assuming they were just exchanging views on hip replacement methods. By the time I got to the checkout the shop lady was talking to me across the establishment. "Did you hear that?!?! SHE doesn't like the president being at Wawel! Shame! SHE is from PO!" she said as if she just heard that the other lady eats babies for breakfast and her favourite pastimes are drowning kittens and strangling puppies.
PO (Platforma Obywatelska) is a political party consisting mainly of godless antichrists who can perform diabolical feats like reading without moving their lips, writing without sticking their tongues out and of course eat babies for breakfast as well as are capable of thinking without the Bible in their hand.
"So am I" I lied just to increase her hearth rate. She rolled her eyes in a way that I thought only the possessed could and served me in venomous silence.
I asked if I could have a bag, as the pierniczki, being just a box with no wheels or legs did not seem capable of following my manly gait on their own.
"We only have the eco-friendly ones for 10 groszy".
Being from Krakow (and we are the Scotts kicked out of Scotland for spending too much) I asked if I could have a non-eco-friendly one for free.
The look in the lady's eyes told me that unless I fancied an impromptu basement crucifixion I should pay and leave, and so I did.
Now, that's what I call a political life. I love the fact that people actually care about what happens in their country beyond groin injuries, but that's just boring old me.


In this last paragraph I shall indulge in a little bit of toilet humour.
A public toilet was my last stop for the day and let me tell you what a pleasure it was. Not only due to the ways the nature seems to rule our lives, but also, finding a spotless, pleasantly smelling public toilet is indeed a pleasure.
The public toilets are spread around the city and are clean, bright, with excellent facilities but there's a catch... They are staffed. By old ladies. And you have to pay too. It's 15 cents for a stand-up wee and 35 cents for a cabin in which I assume you are free to do as you wish.
The funny bit was that as I entered and took a position at a urinal, I noticed a sign cleverly positioned above the urinal which said: "Paid prior to usage" - and this was the second Poglish photo I did not take.
I have no idea if the public toilet guardian angel is hopping that upon taking the stance and getting all ready men will actually turn around and walk to her little office fumbling for a coin, making her very happy in the process or is the placement purely accidental.
So be warned "Paid prior to usage" is for real, and you will pee while being watched...