Yay Me?

What happens when I remember Google Translator exists.

German: Berg Friseur
Catalan: Muntanya Perruqueria
Filipino: Bundok Barbero
Lithuanian: Kalnas Kirpėjas
Afrikaans: Berg Barbier
French: Montagne Coiffeur
Spanish: Montaña Barbero
Icelandic: Fjallið Rakari
Indonesian: Gunung Tukang Cukur
Welsh: Mynydd Barbwr
Croatian: Planina Frizer
Irish: Sliabh Bearbóir
Esperanto: Monto Frizisto
Maori: Maunga Kaiheu
Zulu: Ntaba Umgundi
Norwegian: Fjellet Barber
Latin: Montem Radentem
Basque: Mendia Bizargin
Swahili: Mlima Kinyozi
Romanian: Munte Frizer
Klingon: HuD chIp
Quenya: Oron Findë-Rissë

My name translates perfectly into almost everything. It’s great. Face it, I pretty much have the best name ever.
Seriously, though, I might start going by Montaña Barbero instead of Mountain Barber. Or maybe Ntaba Umgundi.

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Long time no see.

You may have noticed that I haven’t posted anything in a while- blame it on personal drama, getting a new (better) roommate, a new 40 hour job with an hour commute each way (I walk there, comes to about six miles a day). Or maybe blame it on my new workout regime, or on all the writing I’ve been doing (that would be a lie, though. I’ve done so little writing). Hell, you could even blame it on being able to afford going out again.

You’d be wrong with all of those guesses, though. The real reason? Fresh ginger root.

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Look at that glorious, majestic beast. Look at it!

Everything I cook has ginger in it now. EVERYTHING. COWER BEFORE THIS TANGY ROOT VEGETABLE. COWER. I OWN THIS. WHY? DO NOT QUESTION THE WHIMS OF THE GINGER-WIELDER. FEAR INSTEAD.

I really like ginger, it’s quite tasty.