I was looking for pictures of watermelons and discovered Boris Kustodiev, who is a Russian artist from the turn of the last century. Did I ever tell you guys about my brief attempt to learn Russian? See, I went to some piddly high schools and I got to college and everyone had taken Spanish, so I was afraid to take Spanish for fear that I would be terribly behind, so I took Russian as my language requirement, because I figured no one would have a leg up on me there.
I also worked in the cafeteria with a lanky Russian and a cute Ukrainian. I worked on the line serving food and they were the guys who ran you full dishes of, in this case, lasagna. And that evening they were insisting that I practice my basically non-existent Russian skills. They would not bring me more lasagna until I asked for it in Russian.
So, imagine, if you will, me, finishing up the pan and I shout out “Я кончу” thinking that I’m yelling “I’m finishing.” “What?!” they say, in English, too, so I knew I was in trouble. “Я кончу?”
“Oh, ha ha ha ha ha.”
Turns out, in Russian slang, if you don’t say what you’re finishing, you’ve just yelled out across the cafeteria, “I’m having an orgasm.”
Hmph. The lasagna wasn’t that good.
Still, once you can say “пиво” in one Slavic language, you can pretty much make yourself understood in all of them, and that, my friends, is what’s important.
And if any drunken Russian three year olds want to talk about cows, cookies, milk, or vodka, I am ready to chat.
Anyway, where were we? Oh, beautiful things to look at.
The Merchant’s Wife. See? Watermelon!
Russian Venus, which is, I believe, what is says right there on that piece of paper.
Speaking of women as gods, have y’all seen this?