Dogajanje po odročnih krajih po Sloveniji

Invictus je 24. maj 2022 ob 08:19 izjavil:

Malidelničar je 24. maj 2022 ob 07:28 izjavil:

A pa je to res, ali je bolj 'baba rekla baba kazala'? Oz. zakaj naj bi ravno "vukojebine" imele takšne navade, Ljubljana in mesta pa ne? Po mojem v Sloveniji tega "redneckovstva" kot v kakšni Appalachia ni bilo.

Cela Slovenija je redneks dežela. Razen parih izjem posameznikov.

Brez dvoma sebe šteješ med te izjeme. Ali se motim?

Najbolj kmetavzarska je Ljubljana. Hkrati tudi najmanj, ampak kolk je v Lj ljudi, ki so kot da bi prišli "iz hoste"...
Ker kraji, ki so bili v OP pretenciozno in škodoželjno ponujeni, se praznijo. Ljudje grejo v večja mesta. Največje v Sloveniji je pa Ljubljana. In hkrati tudi cilj za veliko priseljencev iz podobnih krajev iz OP iz cele bivše države.

endelin je 23. maj 2022 ob 13:56 izjavil:

Nova Gorica je center nihilizma in razuzdanosti

Kje si pa to vidu,razen dveh levih kazinojev in 3h kuplerajev ni tam popolnoma nič,grem večkrat mim in je samo eno umirjeno mestece in nič drugega.

gruntfürmich je 24. maj 2022 ob 08:58 izjavil:

cias je 24. maj 2022 ob 08:42 izjavil:

Je pa po mestih veliko kemije, vaški mulci so veliko manj razgledani. Tam niti nihče ne upa tega sranja ker je kar stigmatizirano in se vse razve.

se ti vidi da nisi čisto diht in da si iz podeželja. v zadnjih 20 letih so se droge v sloveniji selile iz mesta na podeželje!

Se pravi: ker je iz podeželja, ne ve kaj se dogaja na podeželju. Fuck logic.

gruntfürmich je 24. maj 2022 ob 08:58 izjavil:

cias je 24. maj 2022 ob 08:42 izjavil:

Je pa po mestih veliko kemije, vaški mulci so veliko manj razgledani. Tam niti nihče ne upa tega sranja ker je kar stigmatizirano in se vse razve.

se ti vidi da nisi čisto diht in da si iz podeželja. v zadnjih 20 letih so se droge v sloveniji selile iz mesta na podeželje!

Se vidi da si mestna srajca, ko gres zjutraj skozi park poln metadonovcov ki se spodbujajo z vinom in se tolažiš da na vaseh mularija dela še hujše. Pije kokakolo in brca žogo.

Unchancy je 24. maj 2022 ob 08:34 izjavil:

Najbolj kmetavzarska je Ljubljana. Hkrati tudi najmanj, ampak kolk je v Lj ljudi, ki so kot da bi prišli "iz hoste"...
Ker kraji, ki so bili v OP pretenciozno in škodoželjno ponujeni, se praznijo. Ljudje grejo v večja mesta. Največje v Sloveniji je pa Ljubljana. In hkrati tudi cilj za veliko priseljencev iz podobnih krajev iz OP iz cele bivše države.

sj pa so prišli iz hoste oz iz kmetavzarije! daneš še celo iz kozjejebovskih dežel.
meščanstva v sloveniji praktično ni, ker so ga komunisti bolj ali manj pobili, tisti preostali pa so izvodeneli, tako da se meščanska kultura v sloveniji ni ohranila. v mesta po vojni pa so drli kmetavzarji za potrebe industrializacije, ki so to tudi ostali. niti delavstvo verjetno niso postali, tako slabo je v sloveniji. o tem je pisal Boštjan M. Zupančič.

Malidelničar je 24. maj 2022 ob 07:28 izjavil:

A pa je to res, ali je bolj 'baba rekla baba kazala'? Oz. zakaj naj bi ravno "vukojebine" imele takšne navade, Ljubljana in mesta pa ne? Po mojem v Sloveniji tega "redneckovstva" kot v kakšni Appalachia ni bilo.

Glej, predstavljaj si, da zivis v vasici "bogu iza nogu" kjer je edina zabava vaska ostarija, najvecji dogodek leta pa postavljanje mlaja ali kaj podobnega. Sem imel sosolca v srednji soli, ki je bil iz neke take vukojebine. Pri tridesetih se ga je do smrti zapil. Iz cistega dolgcajta.

Unchancy je 24. maj 2022 ob 09:16 izjavil:

Dandanes imajo ljudje praktično enak standard na vasi kot v mestu. Ceste so asfaltirane, ljudje motorizirani, telekomunikacije dostopne.
Nekih egzotičnih žepov bogu za hrbtom ni več.

Potem pa premalo poznaš slovenijo.

Unchancy je 24. maj 2022 ob 08:34 izjavil:

Najbolj kmetavzarska je Ljubljana. Hkrati tudi najmanj, ampak kolk je v Lj ljudi, ki so kot da bi prišli "iz hoste"...
Ker kraji, ki so bili v OP pretenciozno in škodoželjno ponujeni, se praznijo. Ljudje grejo v večja mesta. Največje v Sloveniji je pa Ljubljana. In hkrati tudi cilj za veliko priseljencev iz podobnih krajev iz OP iz cele bivše države.

To je podoben primer kot vsi cigani, ki so se že zdavnaj odselili iz Romunije v Italijo, tam pa je ostalo kulturno avtohtono prebivalstvo.
In pri nas imamo romune za cigane, italjane pa za napredne sosede.

Smarnica pa res ni mit... Pac vrsta trte in še danes je. Ni pa vec tok pogosta, kot je bila, seveda. Je zanic pa prevec glava boli, ce dejstvo, da zna biti hudic nevaren, ce cloveka zanese, ne zaleže. je marsikdo, ce ne večina, zamenjal ze s cim drugim. Definitivno pa to ni noben mit.

Na vasi postavljajo mlaje ob porokah in abrahamih, raztegujejo meh na harmoniki in pijejo šnops.
V Ljubljani pa se barvajo na modro, protestirajo da obstaja 50 spolov in na koncu gredo na vegi burger in kvazi kavo, za zabavo pa se potegne kaka črtica.

Kaj je bolj normalno, je pa stvar perspektive

Invictus je 24. maj 2022 ob 09:06 izjavil:

Močeradovec se ne kuha, ampak se živega močerada namoči v šnops. Le ta zaradi stresa, ker je bil napaden izloči strup čez kožo. Zaradi mučenja živali je to prepovedano, poleg tega so močeradi zaščitena vrsta.

Močerada se ponavadi priveže pod pipo, kjer teče ven šnops, ko ga kuhaš, da preko njega teče šnops in močerad izloča strup skozi kožo tega pa šnops spira.
Nisem še slišal, da bi ga namakali v šnops.

Baje. Povsod baje.

l0g1t3ch je 24. maj 2022 ob 12:45 izjavil:

WizzardOfOZ je 24. maj 2022 ob 12:41 izjavil:

Invictus je 24. maj 2022 ob 09:06 izjavil:

Močeradovec se ne kuha, ampak se živega močerada namoči v šnops. Le ta zaradi stresa, ker je bil napaden izloči strup čez kožo. Zaradi mučenja živali je to prepovedano, poleg tega so močeradi zaščitena vrsta.

Močerada se ponavadi priveže pod pipo, kjer teče ven šnops, ko ga kuhaš, da preko njega teče šnops in močerad izloča strup skozi kožo tega pa šnops spira.
Nisem še slišal, da bi ga namakali v šnops.

Tako je pravil tudi stari ata. Baje so ga še začetek 90ih kuhal na eni zabačeni kmetiji blizu njegovega rojstnega kraja. Lahko uganete, kako se je domačiji reklo po domače

"pr močerad"

Pri nas šnops kuhamo še danes, ampak močerada pa še nikoli nismo dal pod šnops, niti nimamo namena kaj takega počet.
Delamo pa pri nas "mekano" rakijo (da ne peče po grlu, ko jo piješ), torej tam do 35%, ga pa skoraj vsega odkupi en domačin, ki pa gozdne sadeže potem namaka v naš šnops. Dela iz tega razne "likerje" pa "borovničke". Pol pa ljubljančani vse pokupijo od njega.

Ja, likerji gredo, samo rabiš pa čas, da gozdne sadeže nabiraš.

Cracked o močeradovcu: https://www.cracked.com/blog/robert-eva...

matobeli je 24. maj 2022 ob 13:22 izjavil:

Cracked o močeradovcu: https://www.cracked.com/blog/robert-eva...

Dober članek.

This town, in the beautiful Poljanska Valley, had a nickname my interpreter, Neza, always translated as "Clusterfuck." She drove my friends and I into the valley to find Clusterfuck, and the truth about salamander brandy ... but, unfortunately, we didn't get much more information. It had been common after World War II, some old-timers told us, but times were better now -- so who'd drown salamanders for a high anymore?

Poljanska dolina FTW

Razširjen članek oziroma poglavje ali par iz knjige "A Brief History of Vice: How Bad Behavior Built Civilization" avtor Rober Evans.

"Unraveling the Truth About Salamander Brandy

Other researchers have attempted to suss out the reality of Blaz Ogorevc's salamander brandy experience. The first seems to have been Ivan Valencic in 1998. He identified the fire salamander as the key ingredient, and also noted that locals often mixed their drinks with wormwood. (As far as I can tell, he's the only scholar to suggest this, and he does so without outside evidence.) Ivan claimed that August is the traditional start of the salamander-hunting season, and that salamander brandy brewing is thought to be centuries old.
This is all exciting stuff, if true. But Ivan's article seems to rely heavily on his own ethnographic research and experiences in Slovenia. His only source for explicit facts on the brandy is Ogorevc's article from 1995. Valencic isn't a chemist or a biologist, but he takes his salamander brandy much more seriously than Ogorevc. According to him, it averages 45 percent alcohol by volume, and five to six 20-centimeter-long salamanders make an imposing 30 liters of brandy.
Y'know, in case you want to kick off Arbor Day with a mass woodland orgy.
That all sounds extremely specific, but Ivan seems to have less of a handle on the dosing: he suggests anywhere between 50 milliliters (about one shot glass) and 200 milliliters. It's terrifying to imagine a drug with that kind of variance in dosage, but it makes sense for a folk drug. There's probably not a lot of standardization among the sort of people who drown animals to get wasted.
Ivan also asserts that the brandy is completely clear. That runs counter to the one purported picture of the brew you can actually find on the Internet. Posted by John Morris in 2000, it shows a fire salamander suspended in a light blue bottle of liquor. John was a writer for the Daily Telegraph, and he wrote the column Grail Trail. He traveled to Slovenia and apparently came upon a bottle of brandy himself:
I had to go through a chain of whispered contacts and endless hours in smoke-filled taverns in Skofja Loka before finding the stuff. It is best enjoyed as a local experience, drunk fresh in the forest where there are plenty of trees to fall in love with. Direct requests for the magic brew will not yield results, but a disapproving local farmer might "happen to find" some of the evil stuff if the price is right.
Morris gave the price for a bottle at around twenty-five to thirty US dollars, and mentions that autumn--"just before the salamander goes into hibernation"--is the best time to buy a bottle. He also reiterates Ogorevc's famous claim that the brandy makes users uncontrollably randy:
The erotic charge of the drink is powerful, but tends to be indiscriminate in its target, so that anything in the natural world can become sexually attractive--trees, plants, animals or even humans.
That said, Morris gives little that can be called a personal account of the drug's effects, and he also gives thanks to Ogorevc for help in his article. So we can count Morris's account as another feather in the cap of hallucinogenic amphibian liquor, but very far from a smoking gun. If this drink's psychedelic, tree-fucking reputation is all just a practical joke by Blaz Ogorevc, it's entirely possible Mr. Morris might just be helping him keep it alive.
I've found at least one animal rights website that takes the possibility of salamander brandy seriously. Save the Salamanders includes salamander brandy under its "threats" tab of serious issues facing the salamander species. The site uses a picture from Morris's article, and contains information it seems to have gathered purely from reading that account and doing no other research.
Salamanders are also captured and killed for Salamander Brandy, a beverage that actually contains a corpse of a deceased salamander in it. One of the methods in which the drink is cruelly made is to have two live salamanders tossed into a barrel of fermenting fruits and then leaving them for a month's time. After this point the mixture is then distilled.
The case against salamander brandy's existence comes almost entirely from one man: Miha Kozorog, a professor at the University of Ljubljana. He's authored two papers, one in 2003, published by his school, and one in 2014, published in the book Edible Identities: Food as Cultural Heritage. He noted that salamander brandy was quite famous within his local drug culture, and set off into the countryside to try and find some.
While his findings did suggest that salamander brandy is a real brew with a long and storied tradition in Slovenia, it has no great hallucinogenic reputation. Instead, the name has become a shorthand for the beverage made by disreputable brandy makers trying to stretch their output by adding disreputable ingredients. When he asked local distillers about the brew, they said things like, "We have always been honest brandy makers" and, "Making salamander brandy is a shameful act."
Kozorog summarized, "No one mentions salamander brandy in connection to altered states of consciousness, but exclusively in connection to fraudulent brandy making. The term was used when after drinking brandy very negative effects were felt, such as partial paralysis [not a symptom of alcohol use] and sickness."
In other words, there's a very real possibility that drinking the poisonous mucus of a salamander causes some sort of paralytic effect, which would certainly alter the nature of any bender you got into on the stuff. But Kozorog's research doesn't make Ogorevc's mythically erotic trip seem likely.
But if Blaz Ogorevc and John Morris are lying, why? The only explanation that occurs to me is one of national pride. Slovenia is a small, oft-overlooked chunk of the European continent. A homegrown hallucinogen of unique effect is a matter of pride in certain circles of society. Kozorog himself observed that the drug is seen as a piece of "national heritage" by some of his peers.
Salamander brandy was attractive because it was fresh, exotic and "Ours."
The matter of salamander brandy's existence has been seriously questioned, but not quite solved. To do that, I had to travel to Slovenia myself and see if I could bring an end, one way or the other, to this debate . . .

Tracking Down the Truth About Salamander Brandy

I traveled to Slovenia in August 2015, starting in the capital city of Ljubljana. I spent several days there, hanging out around the city's squatter artist enclaves and asking the young, narcotics-inclined folks I met if they'd ever heard of salamander brandy. The answer to that question was always yes, either from reading Blaz Ogorevc's article or from hearing it discussed by friends at a party. I met only one man who claimed to have tried it: A young stylist at a barbershop who told us that a little bit was passed around at a party he attended once. He claimed it got him high, but he wouldn't go into more detail.
He may have been lying. No one else in Ljubljana claimed to have taken salamander brandy themselves; here and there I ran into someone who said a friend had tried it at a party, or been given some by a sketchy uncle. I attempted to track down each of these leads but they came to nothing. After four fruitless days of searching, I decided I'd have to venture deeper into Slovenia if I was going to unravel the mystery of salamander brandy.
According to Ogorevc, the center of salamander brandy production lies in the tiny villages and hamlets surrounding the town of Skofja Loka. (Luckily for Ogorevc, Skofja Loka also happens to be his hometown.) Skofja Loka is about as idyllic a place as I've ever been. It's a small, medieval village surrounded by mighty rolling hills and great green forests. There are many little taverns and restaurants where locals gather at the end of the day to drink the local beer (Lasko) and shoot the proverbial shit.
I spent most of my time in Skofja Loka trawling these little bars with the help of my translator, Neza. The younger folks we talked to had little to say about it. Their knowledge seemed to come solely from the Ogorevc article; many of them had read it, and the rest had at least heard people talking about it. But the older locals had a lot more to say. First off, they clarified that it was not salamander brandy, but salamander schnapps. Brandy is not a popular drink among those from the mountains and hills of Slovenia. But the people in the hinterlands do have a long and abiding tradition of schnapps brewing. Home-distilled schnapps is to rural Slovenia what white lightning is to Appalachia.
One man we spoke with, Ystok, told us he used to own a restaurant in the nearby Poljanska Valley. He claimed that a town in the valley, nicknamed "Clusterfuck" by everyone who didn't live there, had been the center of production for salamander schnapps. According to him, Clusterfuck had earned its reputation by virtue of being filled with the sort of hillbillies you'd expect to try and drown salamanders for a cheap high. Ystok also told us that we would have trouble finding any salamander schnapps these days: Thanks to government taxes and regulations on the large stills used to make schnapps, it was basically illegal.
Ystok told us the production method he'd heard of involved putting a live salamander in the little closed box (called the "hat") above the still. The hapless amphibian would be slowly steamed to death, and his poisons would trickle down into the schnapps. One salamander apparently contained enough poison to brew four to five liters of schnapps. He described the resultant brew as "very poisonous." He told us a (possibly but not certainly apocryphal) tale of one town drunk, a man who could easily drink a bottle of normal schnapps on his own, who was "DONE!" after two glasses of salamander schnapps. Ystok added, "Some people call it a delicacy, but it is not."
Neza and I had been speaking with Ystok for maybe twenty minutes when several of his friends, all hanging out around the same tavern, realized what we were talking about. They were quick to offer their own opinions on salamander schnapps. One person told us that while normal schnapps is often taken as a digestive (for "stomach issues") or used as an aperitif before meals, salamander schnapps was primarily used to get "really fucked up."
A few of the first people in Ljubljana and Skofja Loka I'd asked about salamander schnapps had been adamant that it was just another type of alcoholic beverage. This was consistent with the conclusions Miha Kozorog had drawn: Salamanders were added to the brew by disreputable bootleggers looking to add a little kick, not a hallucinogen. But Ystok and his comrades were adamant that salamander schnapps was a drug, and a potent one at that. I was warned several times that it was "poisonous" and should be diluted with water.
In general, the older people I spoke with were sure it existed and split on whether or not it possessed hallucinogenic qualities. The younger residents I talked to simply knew it existed, and more or less parroted what they'd read in Blaz Ogorevc's article if they had anything to say at all. Later in the night, at another tiny bar in Skofja Loka, I came across several middle-aged men drinking together. One of them claimed to have tried salamander schnapps himself. He remarked, "You feel dizzy when you drink it." This was consistent with Ivan Valencic's hypothesis that salamander schnapps includes some paralytic agent that "takes the legs" out from under a drinker.
I sat drinking with these men for a couple of hours (one of them was the bar owner, and thus the beers were free) and, after a while, the man who claimed to have tried salamander schnapps admitted that he wasn't sure if what he'd had was the real deal. But he had some relatives nearby, on a farm in the mountains on the way to the village of Clusterfuck, and he told us they might know more.
So the next day we set off in Neza's car for Clusterfuck and environs, and stopped along the way at this farm. After one of the greatest meals of my life (words cannot do the sausage justice), I interviewed the old farmer. He didn't know where I could find salamander schnapps, but he did give me some of the most enlightening information of the entire trip. According to him, salamander schnapps was much more common immediately after World War II, when times were tough and a good high was rather hard to find.
He claimed that salamander-infused schnapps simply got you really drunk, and left you with a terrible headache afterward. He confirmed that it had a reputation for "taking the legs" out from under you, and told us of one local drunk who "drank so much . . . that he was petrified." It was a bitter drink, not at all like normal schnapps. The old farmer also told us of another brewing method: The salamander would be decapitated and hot schnapps would be poured over the severed head. This does make some biological sense: The fire salamander keeps its poison glands on the back of its head.
After lunch and an interview, we drove off into the valley toward the town of Clusterfuck. It started to rain heavily during our drive, and our progress was slow in the winding mountain roads. At one point we passed a grizzled old man rebuilding a scythe, and I had Neza stop the car so we could talk to him. He wound up having a lot to say; he was a fan of Blaz Ogorevc and familiar with the original article on salamander schnapps. But he'd also lived in the region his entire life and had heard another theory about the beverage, which I found fascinating.
Apparently, after World War II local distillers started using a new Italian yeast that fermented faster. The yeast's name was very similar to the Slovenian word for salamander, and that might be where the myth of salamander schnapps first began. He added that he'd heard quite a few people talk about the drink's "bad reputation" as a hallucinogenic substance. Like us, he didn't seem to know the truth.
After another half hour of driving we made it to Clusterfuck at last. It was a surprisingly nice town, given what the name had led us to expect, but we found no traces of salamander schnapps. One man we spoke with told us that "people used to talk about it a lot, but not anymore." We stopped for consolation beers at a local bar, where a muscular man with a pronounced unibrow told us of a schnapps distiller in the next town who might know something more about the increasingly mythic brew.
We drove to the distillery and, after drinking a delicious glass of honey schnapps and a terrible glass of cumin schnapps, started talking with the owners about schnapps of the salamandered variety. They didn't make any, of course, but they did posit a new theory for how the beverage had come to be. From what they'd heard, salamanders were attracted to the heat of the still and started crowding around until the brewers "just started putting them in." They reiterated that salamander schnapps was a drug from an earlier generation, and "probably all the people who tried it are already dead."
And so my trip to Slovenia came to an end. I'd gathered a lot of fascinating theories and conflicting stories about salamander brandy/schnapps. But I hadn't actually found any examples of the brew itself. The saga of the salamander-based hallucinogen remains unfinished, perhaps for some bold narceologist of the future. I don't like to end on this note, presenting another chapter in the long mystery rather than its definitive conclusion.
But the book's got to end somewhere; here seems as good as any place. Bye!
...
Hah! Just kidding. That bye was a test, and everyone still reading this passed. The fact that I couldn't find any salamander schnapps in Slovenia just meant that I was going to need to brew a batch myself and try it out. That's right, I'm about to teach you . . .

Conclusion

So, my trip to Slovenia didn't end with salamander schnapps. I had to make that stuff on my own. But I did wind up stumbling on another prize: glass after glass of homemade liquor. Once people heard I was looking for salamander schnapps, they couldn't wait to offer me the schnapps they'd brewed themselves.
Most of the homebrewed Slovenian schnapps I had was not . . . great. But it was all different, and the people I met were endearingly passionate about the liquor their grandfathers, etc., had brewed up in the spare bathtub and distilled in the kitchen. Slovenian schnapps, as well as salamander schnapps, is what people who use needlessly smart words call an "autochthonous drug." Autochthonous just means it's a local invention; not imported from some other country and culture.
I encountered a lot of autochthonous liquor traditions as I passed through the Baltic states. In Serbia and Bosnia they drink a fruit brandy known as rachiya. People make rachiya out of pears, plums, apples, and basically everything else that ferments. You sip it out of fat-bottomed, long-necked shot glasses. My first introduction to rachiya was in the apartment of a friend's cousin. It was the cousin's own plum rachiya; it tasted hot, like burnt sugar and smoke. After several glasses, he pulled out a goat head that was just chilling in his freezer and started eating its brains with a spoon. I got the feeling that this was not an abnormal Friday night for anyone else in the room.
The United States doesn't have many autochthonous drugs. We're certainly the country that made substances like LSD and MDMA famous, and we've become the world's number one producer of marijuana, but none of that originates from here. All across the Balkan states, people toast with rachiya, and drink it before meals as an aperitif or over long nights with their friends. You can look back centuries in time and find Balkan people making and drinking rachiya in much the same way, and for the exact same reasons.
We're awash in craft beer and craft liquors and boutique marijuana today, but these are all the spearheads of new traditions. Prohibition disrupted America's drinking traditions in the 1920s, so much that breweries are now producing "pre-prohibition" ales in imitation of old recipes. The criminalization of most other narcotics has limited their ability to gain much cultural weight. And that's a problem.
In chapter 10, I talked about the ability of ritual behavior to limit and moderate drug use. Every vice I've written about in this book started out as some sort of ritualized behavior. Sarcasm and trolling offered our ancestors a way to moderate the violent impulses of young men. Prostitution was once a sacred religious duty, the purview of priests rather than pimps.
Behind every vice is an impulse. We can sate those impulses in ways that are healthy, that improve our ability to deal with the world, and that help us grow as people. Or we can sate those impulses in ways that numb us to the world and drive us deeper and deeper away from it. My hope for this book is that it makes you look at the next cigarette you smoke, the next beer you drink, the next hit of whatever you drop at a party as more than just a product to consume. Think of the history behind it. Think of the weight of human ingenuity and invention that had to build up before you could enjoy it as easily and safely as you do.
Enjoy your vices, but respect them, too."

matobeli je 24. maj 2022 ob 13:22 izjavil:

Cracked o močeradovcu: https://www.cracked.com/blog/robert-eva...

"After two months waiting for my salamander to acclimate and then milking him, it was time for me to drink. I downed all four shots within the space of 20 minutes. I felt a little drunk, but nothing more. Certainly no tree-fucking bouts of psychedelic lust, which was a real bummer. I lay down, fell asleep, and woke up maybe an hour after my first sip needing badly to pee. I tried to get up and almost fell flat on my ass. My legs were wobbly, like I'd done a light dose of GHB. I staggered to the kitchen, drank water, and staggered back weirded thoroughly, the fuck, out.

The next morning I felt queasy and my stomach hurt. I was lightheaded for hours. Perhaps it was just my reward for drinking before bed after a month or so of abstaining from alcohol. But I don't think that explains it. My experience was consistent with many of the tales I'd heard in and around Skofja Loka: Salamandified booze "takes the legs out from under you." And that's the best conclusion any of us is going to get until some bold grad student gets funding to follow in my footsteps with real science."

Ljubljana je največji gnoj oziorma na Metelkovi, kjer azilantje posiljujejo študentke, te pa potem dobijo Stockholmom sindrom in zagovarjajo azilanta, da so same krive, da jih je posilil.

Ta je o Metelkovi slisal samo po telefonckih.

Ne mi rect da se niste telefonckov spilal ko ste bli froci ?

Itak da ne... Nasa vas ima manj kot 10 his, pa imam optiko, 5G, stroma nikdar v 8 letih ni ven vrglo. Z avtom 5min do kranja, 15min do Ljubljane. Pa vseeno vse tok dalec, da mi noben sosed v talar ne vidi. Kvaliteta zivljenja in standard je bistveno višji kot v mestu. Drugace je seveda bilo svoj cajt, ko ni imela vsaka bajta 3 avtomobilov licno razporejenih na se enkrat toliko parkplacov, do stacune in sole je bilo pa treba 20min cez gmajno v bilo katerem vremenu... To lahko pocasi dodamo med mite oziroma arhaiko tipa moceradovca in smarnice.

enemon je 24. maj 2022 ob 17:04 izjavil:

Po napisanem sodeč je Poljanska dolina kar hardcore.

Btw. Poljanska dolina danes spada med najbolj premožne in urejene dele Slovenije. Verjetno ne rabijo močeradovca/šmarnice za zdravljenje depresije, ker je niti nimajo, ker jim gre zelo solidno.

enemon je 24. maj 2022 ob 17:04 izjavil:

Po napisanem sodeč je Poljanska dolina kar hardcore.

Tam smo se rodili in kalili tisti najbl hardcore.

/zdej grem pa na Blegoš po močerade.

Malidelničar je 24. maj 2022 ob 17:09 izjavil:

enemon je 24. maj 2022 ob 17:04 izjavil:

Po napisanem sodeč je Poljanska dolina kar hardcore.

Btw. Poljanska dolina danes spada med najbolj premožne in urejene dele Slovenije. Verjetno ne rabijo močeradovca/šmarnice za zdravljenje depresije, ker je niti nimajo, ker jim gre zelo solidno.

In z najvišjo rodnostjo!

Zadnja enklava Slovencev!