Babes in Poland

The Big 5-0-0-0

We are coming up on 5,000 hits to this silly little blog.  This totally blows my mind.  I think a little gratitude from the Babes in Poland is in order.

Thank you to everyone who reads this.  You make us feel popular. Even though we smell very, very bad, we can still look in the mirror and say, "People who can't smell us, like us."

Thank you to everyone who emails us and leaves comments.  This is our glorified tin cans and string across the Atlantic.

Thank you to Statcounter who lets us know how popular we are!

So that being said, we are really happy you read and maybe enjoy this stupid webpage, and the person with the 5,000th hit on this site wins a really cool gift from Poland.

REFRESH. REFRESH. REFRESH.

What's Worse Than Buying a Bathing Suit in America?

Buying a bathing suit in Cracow, that's what.

Cracola and I are visiting the healing mineral baths of Budapest this weekend. We've heard great things about them and hopefully they will help with what ails us.

You can either take the plunge in a bathing suit or in your birthday suit. Since Cracola and I are the fattest Babes in Poland, we can only assume that we are the fattest Babes in Hungary too and as not to offend the Hungarians with our huge jiggly cellulite, we need some coverage. Since I did not plan on having to take this excursion, I did not bring my bathing suit with me.

So we went to the mall. Not the Galeria Kazmirez but a different mall. The new mall, Zakopianka, sucked but it did have a KFC. The KFCs in Poland have this delish taco (yes, taco) that Cracola and I dream of at night because it was the only good thing we've eaten here. Mmmmm, Taco Quoro!

Anyways, did I say Zakopianka Mall sucked? I think I did. Anyways, despite its suckage, it did have a pretty decent bathing suit store. So Cracola and I went in. Now, all Polish women are twigs and the shop girl Magda was no exception. She had a smoking hot body.

Magda:Can I help?
Cracola: We need huge bathing suits. Massive. We are whales.
Magda: Beeeeeeeeeg?
Cracola: Yes, big. Very, very big. Huge.

So Magada goes rooting through the bathing suit bins and extracts huge bikinis that will hold our fatness. At one point, she offered me a g-string bottom. Yeah right, Magda. Rub it in.

FREE THE PANTIES!

That's just great.
The washer came and was wonderful but the washer has a superiority complex where it thinks it is Fort Knox and not in fact a washer in our bathroom.

It has a lock on it that prevents it from being opened. We tried unplugging it, kicking it, pulling on the door...everything. The washer refuses to relinquish the panties.

And of course, the instructions for the stupid thing are in Polish.

Here in the picture, Cracola tries to use her massive guns to pull open the washer door.

A Clean Mouth is a Happy Mouth

This is so gross. Not to be graphic but we have a sewage problem in our building that resolved itself all over our toothbrushes. So here they sit in bleach, soon to be thrown out.

Cracola Makes a Motion

She has suggested that the name of the blog be changed from "Babes in Poland" to "Dirty, Smelly, Nasty Girls in Poland" to reflect the change in our status.

The Battle for Lubricant Street

Post offices here in Poland are open on Sunday.  We attempted yesterday to retrieve the package from America filled with goodies.  We failed.

The package slip the Polish postman left me directed us to go to 53 Lubricant Street.  Easy enough, no?  Well we walked down Lubricant Street only to get to 53 and find a bombed out building.

So we shall try again today by getting in a cab and yelling at the cabbie "TAKE US TO FIFTY THREE LUBRICANT STREET IMMEDIATELY!"

Cracola 1, cracow_couture 1

While Cracola was the first to fall victim to the intestinal distress brought on by Polish food, I am the first to become sick.

The only thing good about being sick is that when I get a fever, my skin gets really sensitive and I can't wear clothes which is good because I don't have any clean clothes left.

New Pictures

We uploaded a few pictures from our trip to Zakopane in the photo album! Check it out!

A Package Has Arrived!

Now all we have to do is find Lubricant Street and hopefully we can eat!

How Cracola and I Fell in Love with Poland and Each Other

I love Poland. I bet you didn't expect that.

We are the ultimate antisocials.  Our class is going to Zakopane on a trip tomorrow and we decided to go ahead of them and go today on our own.  It was the best decision we have ever made.  Zakopane is the most beautiful place I have ever seen in my life.  The mountains are incredible.  I can't wait to go up here tomorrow on the cable car.  The shopping is phenomenal. 

Getting here was a little dicey.  We missed our bus or rather, our bus missed us because we were standing at the right location but it went to a different location and took off.  Figuring out the Polish bus system is not so easy but we managed to find another bus to Zakopane.  We had to pay again because our ticket was useless but that was fine because I would pay $3.50 every day to come here.

I found our hotel in Zakopane on the internet and it looked nice but since everything on the internet is crap (remember, slumlord Kevindarling said we would have a washer in the apartment and we do not) we were skeptical.  The rate was only $70 we decided if we got here and it was ghetto, we would just get back on the next bus to Cracow. Well, it was not ghetto.  In fact, we are not going back to Cracow at all.

The Hotel Sabala looks like a little Alpine ski lodge.  It is amazingly nice.  However, everyone at the front desk thinks Cracola and I are lesbians. 

After we checked in and got our room, we came back to the front desk to reclaim our passports.  The woman behind the desk began apologizing profusely for there only being one bed in our room because there was some mix up with our reservation and we got a single room instead of a double.  The bed in the room is a queen size bed and Crac and I have slept together many times before so it was fine. 

"No, no its ok.  The room is fine," we told the Polish girl.

The girl just looked at us in disbelief.  The guy behind the counter started to smile and giggle knowingly. Whatever, if loving Cracola in our little mountain hideaway is wrong, I don't want to be right.