From Russia with Love

Yesterday I attended the M's game with a few cohorts. It was a slow, but good game--especially since we won. But the highlight of the game wasn't the action on the field, the fact that we won, or even getting to see Putz's chin merkin in full-force. Nope, it was the lovely Russian gentleman sitting next to me for the duration.

Said gentleman seemed like a fairly nice guy, although he did have a pretty small English lexicon, of which I'd like to share with you. This vocabulary included, and was limited to the following:

1. Ich-i-ro! My boi.
2. Run Forrest!
3. Oh F&*%!
4. Yeah, Mutter F*$%#@!
5. Oh S*%&
6. Yeah!
   

At least he had the basics needed for cheering on the home team and taunting the guest.