If you have one, just e-male it to firstname.lastname@example.org and I will answer within 24 hours! Anonymous or not as you wish- my English is limited, but Zamboni is at your cervix!
I have received this question four hundred and three times in the last ten minutes from my panicked followers so I will try and elucidate what happened for you as best as only Great Zamboni can: (Meanwhile, Casey Afleck, please check your envelope carefully because I am sure Gosling must get your statue?!)
It wasn’t Warren Beatty losing his kishkas. It wasn’t a backstage mixup in which Emma Stone shmoozed Warren so hard they swapped envelopes. No. It was the trickster will of the Gods.
Look at Trump’s victory. Look at the craziest Superbowl comeback turnaround ever. This is the year of the Insane Revolution. I don’t mean just necessarily”revolution” as in Che Guevara or Les Miz or Hamilton and Valley Forge, I mean revolution in its literal record-revolving-33 revolutions per minute meaning- a turn completely around. That revolution.
Everywhere we look things are spinning higgledy-piggledy on their heads. The Statue of Liberty replaces her torch with a “closed” sign, presidents tweet while they poop and grab by the pussy, the poor vote for the rich and California’s draught turns to floods. So if this universal spirit of change has caused the great kerfuffle at the Oscars, the real question is; what does it mean?
Great Zamboni thinks that the take away from the times is this: you know somethings happening but you don’t know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones…
Yes like the Dylan song, something is happening. It’s a call to awake! fron God himself. He talks to me regularly and has confirmed this. And by the way, he loved La La Land and Moonlight so much, even he couldn’t decide. The first is classic Hollywood man-woman romance, updated beautiful for today with many white people. The second, a beautiful film about fear and taboos, man-man sort of romance, guardian angels, and ultimately surviving long enough to be yourself, and with all Black people.
God- or whatever the voice is that I start hearing after I drink three Kombuchas and have my Blue Algae enema, perhaps wants us to know that it doesn’t have to be either/or with Love- it can be both and all. Maybe they can both be best.
As you know, American Football is so big in Estonia that we were all around my huge 8 inch black and white watching this game yesterday. I was grilling sardines on the radiator of my Datsun b210, we were swilling Prune Vodka in the Ice Sailing clubhouse, and every time the commentators said “the” , “and” or just any words, and we were taking shots- having the best time, what we in hardened Estonia call, “slightly better than cold death.”
But then, these teams go to overtime, and just because Patriots win coin toss, they get ball first. They score a touching down, then I expect the Falconers of Atlanta to get a chance- BUT NO- you America say game over!
? Game over? Other team not even get a chance? I don’t understand your great country. Is it all just rigged? Or just the result of chance?
How can it be fair?
Is it not even an even playing field on your playing field? By the smooth skin of Vladimir Putin’s chin, I just don’t get it.
So funny with America, your superbowl a last minute switcharoo too- just like election! I guess it is like my Grandma Shlockma said, “a consistent large pimple you have for a year, better than a surprise ulcer you get once”
Ladies and gentlemen of the Press who I respect so much even though all you fish gut suckers care about is my tax return.
You know what they say in Estonian Snooker clubs, if the Empire is massive, then it follows like night follows day, so is the penis!
But Trump, who is a good friend of mine, me, the one called Great Zamboni, yes GREAT Zamboni because my GREATNESS is really, really great, I mean really fantastic- Trump did travel to Estonia a few months ago to meet with me privately.
Now, as to your questions about whether or not Donald and I met privately with three comely and fetching toothless fishwives for some innocent massage and iced vodka shooters- well, we may have or we may not have. But I can tell you, that if we had -and seriously of all the people in this room do you really think WE wouldn’t do that?- if we had our sexual prowess would have been really really fantastic.
No have we cleared all that up?
How do I do it? I keep in mind the old Estonian saying, “your face should be like Ice”. You see, we Estonians are used to being taken over by many bamboozling buffoons- first it was the Danes in like year 1200, then the Teutonic Knight Order, the Germans, then the Soviets, then the Nazis, then the Soviets again- so being ruled over by bufoonery is old hat to us.
How do we deal with less than savory rulers? We expect only shit from life all day every day. We tough through life and smile for no one expecting nothing but drudgery cold and darkness.
in this way, any brightness seems to us a great and wonderful surprise. Like when your dog lives to be older than 8 or your goat does not freeze into block of ice.
So get your Estonians balls America, its going to be a bumpy knight.
- This question came to Zamboni from Hillary herself, via snapchat, 20 minutes ago.
- This is above most people’s pay grade, but- after the Cubs won the world series, the bi-cameral and hemispheric balances were thrown off kilter allowing heretofore unheardof phenomenon to occur like Martha Stewart and Snoop Dogg doing a cooking show together and us having a President Trump.
- Liberals are in love with thinking that people use reason in voting and hence would be swayed by three endless debates (they weren’t) or Trumps racist bullying rants (they weren’t). We all missed a lot of football for nothing. People decide with their gut.Undecided is statistical anomaly? Ever known one? See.
- We all thought it’d be a coronation with the royal name of Clinton. Americans don’t do royalty.
- People like to elect outsiders as potus. Look at all the governors from out of DC vicinity: Reagan, Carter, Clinton, Bush II. Not senators or DC insiders. (I know but Obama was a recent arrival and being Black, had his outsider card. ) Hillary if you really want it, move back to Arkansas and run!)
- Guns. People like them. Look Hillary, how the hell am I to hunt squirrels without my two AR15s? (I like to have one in each hand and just spray up in the trees, less time consuming and fun to see them drop!!)
- BTW its the best possible thing that could happen to the democratic party. Take it from an Estonian that lived under dictator USSR puppet for years. Nothing like cruel and unfair oppressor to really make people come together.
You’ll notice my last post was Oct 30th, when it seemed it would be lights out for the Cubs, When Cleveland had their Wahoo fingers around the necks of the cute and cuddly Cubbies, when it seemed all over. After all, coming back from being three games down to one?- it had only happened five times in 132 years of this batting game you Americans love. Yet I predicted a Cubs win. It was easy.
Zamboni knows the ultimate truth that all mortals know deep in their chotzkes: Everything ends. Sometime. Every leaf, at some point, falls. Red Sox fans know this. Game of Thrones fans know. Mad Men watchers even faced the end. Sopranos too. Even my favorite author, Pulitzer winning Danielle Steele, may one day expire and stop spinning her beloved yarns…Fabio’s hair even, one day will cease.
Also, you remember the man who brought the billy goat into Wrigley field, was ousted and cursed them? IT WAS MY UNCLE!
Yes, this is factual and I can vilify it as well. My uncle Tormallen had come from Estonia, changed his name, and opened a pub. Of course he had his goat with him when he came over to this country and named his pub the Billy Goat Tavern as the bond between an Estonian and his goat is as strong as iron yet as tender and soft as a newborn baby’s willy.
And so he brought his goat to game four of the 1945 world series. Evidently the smell of his goat -which we Estonians barely notice- bothered some. Yet I believe it was intolerance to immigrants!! He was booted, and summarily spoke on his way out the turnstile, as his poor goats’ horns were entangled- “these Cubbies aint gonna win no more!”
Until last night. Because you see, even the curse of someone in the bloodline of Zamboni can only last a maximum of 71 years. (Unless of course you have the fingernail of a toothless fishmonger’s wife, the eye of a marmot, the toe of a tax collector, and an evil eye stone, put all said sundries in a bag, bury it beneath the victims home and say out loud 11 vigorous times the ancient bon mots “I FUCKING CURSE YOU GOOD MOTHERFUCKER!”, but old Tormallen did none of that. We all know an off the cuff curse has an expiration date.
And yet it is more than that. It is also due to the power of love, brotherhood and extreme emotional vulnerability. This is like a mighty wall that there is very little can trounce or triumph over.
Late in the game, Anthony Rizzo put his arms on the shoulders of veteran David Ross, and poured forth, “I can’t control myself..I’m trying my best…I’m an emotional wreck…I’m in a glass case of emotion right now…” And was at this moment when the “grit” was found to finally beat the Indians, and end the 71 year old curse, and the 108 year old drought, and win the World Series.
So there is your doggy bag for today’s lesson. Always pour out your fears and anxieties to your friends, it is not weakness, but strength. Your little fears?- clowns, finding a bit of sand in your sandwich at the beach, the Kars for Kids commercial, who cares. But when you are in a glass case of emotion? Always.
This question comes to me from my old Uncle Kringle, though he’s as Estonian as blood sausage and wife-carrying, he lives in Winnemucca, Nevada. He’s been there since age three when he was adopted by a family that drills for mines and for water for farmers in this remote desert land. Growing up in the outback of America, little Kringle and his friends had no baseball team to root for. But they did have the very strong signal of WBEZ Chicago, and so he and his desert friends grew up rooting for a team in a windy land far away that none of them had visited.
Anyway Kringle, I know it doesn’t look good right now, but Zamboni is here to tell you that yes, I do believe the cubs will still win.
Yet Uncle, you also know my credo, “only ask what is vital importance for you”.
Win or lose, how will this change your life?
If they win, will it mean for you that patience and time can overcome any curse, any obstacle? That no one is always fated to be at the bottom forever?
If they lose, will it just mean that though long suffering and waiting sucks- we can always yet do more?
Both are true. But above all importance: the faith that any of it matters.
Sports- they matter so much because they don’t.
Like William Carlos Williams and his red wheelbarrow, slick with rain.
This is wonderful, you can see videos of me the real Great Zamboni, at the instagram page called, cleverly,
I hope you enjoy these and leave please your erections and thoughts…!
This question comes to Zamboni via Pope Francis, who is very concerned about this, rightfully so as he is a Pope and a friend to Zamboni when I couch surf across Europe on occasion.
Oh my Pope….. This has been puzzling people for a while and is true: Italians are not having many babies. It has been chalked up to this or that , either the fact that couples live with their parents in cramped houses. Also to the economy, jobs are scarce so both man and woman must work thereby delaying child bearing etc. Blah blah…All of these are errogenous. The real reason is quite simple and evident when you just step back and think of it.
It’s very tiring to be Italian. Like, really, really exhausting. Look at these guys! Do you know how hard it is to maintain the caloric surge of being so sprezzatura and effortlessly chic all fucking day? The pants are very tight, the shoes are chafing my bare feet. These men are worrying a lot about leaving their sunglasses at home and being laughed at. Ever wear white jeans? Of course you have not, neither have I- because THEY GET CRAZY DIRTY SO FAST! They literally just vacuum up stains from everywhere. With clothes so tight (not helping sperm count Pope!) much time must be spent at the gym just to fit them- is this making you anxious just reading? me too. Look at this beard guy far left- so tightly wound- imagine him throwing a toddler in the air- I can’t either!
Look, I feel for them. Italian is like the last most cool nationality. Even I had to get my name from them. Sadly my Estonian birth name is Shuffleshitz. See! How cooler it is to say, “hey, Zamboni!”….Would George Clooney call me up on speakerphone so much if I was a Shuffleshitz?
With everything being universalized and globalized, there is so much sameness happening. “Italian” is just like a cinnamon for “cool” right? Lamborghinis, Giorgio Armani, Al Pacino, Parmaggiano, The Godfather, espresso for Pete’s sake, they are just so cool, like Dennis Hooper said in that movei to Dean Stockwell, ” you’re so FUCKIN’ sauve….” And for a small country with not a whole lot else going on, corrupt government, the EU falling apart- they have to cling like hell to whatever identity they have. Even if it means when the men get home and peel off those suits they are exhausted from the smiling, laughing and their eyes hurt from too much shading. They must sleep a lot to get up and do this all over again. This= less babies.
The solution Pope?
Make babies cool! get Gucci to make a diaper with that cool green and red stripey pattern. Make Versace shades for the babies! Treat baby as accessory to coolness! It has been very hard for anyone to be cool with a baby for a long time as moms and dads have to wear strange Baby Bjorn strappy things everywhere, juggling rubber nipples and humongous strollers. In my day, I could merely carry my little Zamboni jr. like a football in crook of my arm as I walked a runway in Milan or panned for gold in Chile.
So make babies cool, and those guys in the picture can wrap one in calfskin and carry it right in that little satchel thingee! Good luck Pope!