Ladies and Gentlemen… I used to curse at that damn voice. I’d curse it up and down at 7:30 am on a winter morning my freshmen year of college while trying to get into that one class that was already filled.

Lance Armstrong is a personal hero of mine.

I will be in attendence, cheering him on to victory, this weekend (July 8-10) as the tour dips briefly into Germany.

If you want to come along, contact me ASAP.

Yesterday marked my last official day in Zittau.

I used to dread going all the way out there. Two hours there. Two hours back. And I really didn't know what I was supposed to be doing there in the first place.

But now I'm actually kinda sad.

2006 NCAA Baseball National Champions: The University of Texas

And the younger of them said to his father, Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. And he divided unto them his living. And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country, and there wasted his substance with riotous living.

"Football is Sex baby!" I don't understand it either. But that doesn't mean that I have anything against it. In fact, I found myself chanting it along with the other 5000 fans who were in attendance for the Season Opener of the Dresden Monarchs Game - American Football in Dresden.

You know... as in football. REAL football. And its not that I don't respect the game of soccer. I think it's a great game. Exciting. Fun to play and to watch. The only problem is it's dominated by a bunch of whiny nancy boys who are more interested in taking off their shirt and exposing their freshly shaved chests than playing the man's game.

It would appear as if a couple of damn nazis got a hold of my email account. I don't yet know the extent of the damage, but I do know that several people in my address book have been targeted for a vicious assault of e-mails.

The comeback is complete. I competed in my first race in years last weekend and words can't express the fun I had. Conditions were horrible. 4 Degrees. Rain. At times hail. And a constant wind blowing directly into my face. "Kicking Ass weather" I called it. And I was ready to kick some ass.

MännerTag. That translates into Men's Day. Day of Men. Which, all in all, translates into drunkenness and idiocy. I love it. It happened on Thursday. A real life holiday. No school. No work. Just a bunch of men get together and drink beer and yell and wrestle and eat meat and fight and drink some more beer until they finally pass out.

Another goodbye this weekend. It had been looming in the distance for a while now. I tried to avoid it as best I could but some obstacles are insurmountable. It's just the way it seems it has to be. I look back on all the things we did together and I just have to smile.

I answered the summons to appear at the Customs Office with dread, knowing that nothing in Germany can ever be easy. I entered the room and was presented my package. This tall goofy German guy was the one I'd be answering to. He insisted on speaking English, despite his constant flaws.

A number of events conspired against me last night, eventually driving me to the local döner stand for a very late dinner. I walked into Nemrut sometime around 10.00 and grabbed a Sterni (the cheapest beer - always my favorite) and a dürüm after sharing the usual friendly greetings with the döner men.

Y'all may have noticed the site was offline for the past 2 weeks. Big Brother came after me. And all he wanted was my money. So I gave it to him and he left me alone. Giving people money sucks.

We've all been there. That personal low-point. That moment where you reach rock-bottom, you look around, embarrased, hoping nobody was looking. It happened to me on Sunday night.

If anybody ever tries to tell you that doing translations is easy/fun/insert positive adj here, don't listen to them. It's a trap that will keep you stuck in front of a computer for hours on end.