Just a Man, and His Will to Survive.

The Yugoslavian forward heatbutted the ball into the net, just barely missing the fingertips of the diving Mexican goalie.

"WAWAWEEWAAAA!!" my friend and I screamed in joy. We each then punched ourselves in the face as we poured beer all over our crotch: painful and humiliating, in the finest Yugoslav tradition.

"The Yugoslav team, is good than Mexico team, no?" my friend asked me. "Yes-uh! Is good in world!" I replied. We had just immigrated from "the old land" and were practicing our generic immigrant accent, though we both spoke perfect English, I more-so than he.

As the excitement from the goal died down, he asked me a rather heartfelt question: "Josef... do you think that posting all my heartfelt thoughts in blog-form for all the world to see will in any way interfere with my gettin some 'pakoonsh' from girls who happen to read said blogs?"

"Well, Kriis," I said thoughtfully, as I ordered another beer, "that depends on how you approach the whole thing... Let me tell you a story, a venerable story in the finest Yugoslav tradition..."

And I began my tale:

~~~
The smoke of the enemy camps rose from the distant hills.

General Joçev scanned the horizon in the opposite direction with his one good eye, the other having been lost long ago in another war, another time.

Young Lieutenant Kŕwz wrote poetry in the dust as he sipped at his Capri Sun (Citrus Blast flavor).

He had just graduated from Lil' Tito's School of Commandin' at the top of his class. The General and the Lieutenant represented the culmination of thousands of years military experience, in the finest Yugoslav tradition. They were the best of the best, maybe even the best of the best of the best.

Suddenly Lieutenant Kŕwz stood up. "Sir! I have an idea! Sir!" He saluted twice to show his enthusiam and his respect. "Sir! Why don't we compile all of our war plans, for this war and for all previous wars, into one big book... and then send it to the enemy! Sir!"

Above them flew a solitary hawk; buzzing, curiously, and not flapping its wings as it flew in perfect circles.

The General scratched under his eye-patch as he thought. "You may have something there, lieutenant..." The Lieutenat jumped up and down and clapped as the General continued, "...but, I'm curious, tell me what you think that will achieve?"

The Lieutenant saluted as he spoke, "Sir! Well, it's like, if we tell them everything we're thinking, or ever have thought, maybe they will understand us better, and will end up doing exactly like we want them to. Sir!" He saluted again three times.

The General had heard such a plan before.. from his own mouth! His bad eye began to throb as he recalled the ancient memory...

Young Commander Joçev strode across the battlefield and directly into the enemy leader's tent. Joçev stood defiantly in front of the barbarian as he spoke, "You know what I would really hate?! If you poked me in the eye with your damned finger, right in my freaking eye." Without even thinking it over first, the enemy commander poked Joçev in the eye with his damned finger, right in the freaking eye. Joçev shivered as he lay curled up on the ground.

The General shivered as he lay curled up on the ground.

Lientenant Kŕwz squirted him up the nose with his Capri Sun (Tropical Berry Mix flavor).

The General sputtered, "Wh.. What happened!?"

"Sir! You seem to have had a flashback! Sir!" Kŕwz replied.

"Yes... yes I think I must have. And it made me realize someting: Your idea, Lieutenant, while a good one, is one that I have found not to work as well as you might think. Sometimes, as it turns out, the enemy will use that information against you... to your disadvantage!"

The young Lieutenant's countenance dropped, as he looked at the ground. His idea had seemed so foolproof, yet the General was an experienced warrior, surely he must know better? The Lieutenant began to sob quietly.

"Lieutenant? Aw.. jeez. Look, don't cry. Tell you what, maybe my experience was just a fluke, you go ahead and give your idea a shot, it might work out OK for you. Times have changed since I was a young officer."

"Sir! Really?! Sir!" Kŕwz looked up. "Sir! I'll get started right away! Sir!"

Kŕwz collected all the secret documents they had lying around the camp, even the tzatziki sauce recipes and the Playstation cheat codes they had written down. He began his hike across the plains to the enemy's camp.

"Drink a Capri Sun if you get thirsty! The Pacific Cooler flavor is really good!" the General called out, "And don't forget to wear safety goggles!!"

Lieutenant Kŕwz smiled as he gave the thumbs-up, and turned to continue on his lonely, but essential, mission.

"God bless that boy," the General whispered to himself, and quietly began humming the Hymn for Yugoslavian Glory: "Dunh-dah, eye of the tiger, sumnah thrillima fight! Rising up inna sunna inna risen..."

Above him, the buzzing hawk ceased its circling, and began to flaplessly follow Lientenant Kŕwz as he made his way over the blast-scarred terrain.

~~~

Kriis took a deep sip from his mug as he pondered my story.

"Wait," he said, "that hawk seems pretty suspicious..."

"Exactly! Not everything is as it seems in the blogging world. Like for instance, I'm not Yugoslavian!"

"Haha!", he laughed, "and I freaking hate soccer!"

We shared a hearty laugh as we drank our raspberry flavored beer.