Blonde Moments

Today at lunch, I received several calls from the same person, speaking what I assumed to be Dari, the local dialect.   After having had to change my phone number several weeks ago, I'm afraid I didn't take his calls very well.

After the third call in less than ten minutes, I yelled into the phone (this was in the middle of the DFAC, mind you) that if he called me back again, I'd cut off his, uh, privates, and stuff them down his throat. 

He called back less than two minutes later.  I saw one of my translator acquaintances and handed the unanswered phone to him, saying, "Can you tell this guy that if he calls me again, I will hurt him?"   The translator looked at me, startled and nodded, answering the call.

And what do you know?  No more calls from that number.  I feel a little bad for putting the translator in such an awkward position, though.

And this is from the other day when that heifer stole my shower.