Apparently when you move to live in Bulgaria, all of a sudden everyone you know starts seeing things about Bulgaria everywhere.  Regularly, people email stories, links or messages saying things like: hey, I saw this article in the New York Times about the chess tournament in Sofia, Bulgaria and thought you'd like it.

Um, Really? You've known me for how long? and you're emailing me about chess.  Chess isn't really my thing.  Still, I get it. It's about the thought.  The fact is that in the past you may have read that article and never thought twice about Bulgaria.  Now that I am here, you read the same piece and it means something to you because you have someone to connect it to.

Also, I love getting email and knowing that people are thinking about me--so please don't stop now.

In fact, I am writing a post about this because I got one of the funniest emails from a friend recently.  My friend and old roommate Nick (of <a href="http://www.macheesmo.com/" target="_blank">Macheesmo</a> blog fame), sent me an email that had me laughing--kind of.  Nick met Ross through our mutual friend and old roommate Melly and Ross writes a <a href="http://www.notquitewrong.com/rosscottinc/2009/06/04/fan-comic-from-bulgaria/" target="_blank">blog.</a> Well, really he writes extremely wry comics.

Well last week he posted a comic idea submitted by a Bulgarian reader--Nikola.  And as I said, it made me laugh.  Kind of.  But I think that it's funny enough, wry enough and dripping in enough up apathy that I can share it here.
<p style="text-align:center;"><a href="http://www.notquitewrong.com/rosscottinc/comics/2009/06/d0b4d0b8d0b0d0bdd0b0d0b1d0b0d182d0bcd0b0d0bd1.jpg"><img class="aligncenter" title="Bulgarian Comic" src="http://www.notquitewrong.com/rosscottinc/comics/2009/06/d0b4d0b8d0b0d0bdd0b0d0b1d0b0d182d0bcd0b0d0bd1.jpg" alt="" width="324" height="135" /></a></p>

Sorry the comic is a little bit small. Just click on it and you can see the whole thing.  I mean if you can read Bulgarian. If not, here's the English translation:
<ul>
	<li>Is your father a baker…because he made you rather sweet…</li>
	<li>My father is dead.</li>
	<li>Never mind, just give me your phone number.</li>
</ul>
I should note that while in Bulgaria, I've never had this happen to me but it's come pretty close.  Recently, while out at a club, I tried to pass off my phone number one digit too short to a very-persistent Bulgarian.  He caught me when he was unable to complete the call which he decided to do while I was still standing there (awesome).  I gave him my whole number and when he texted me the next day I told him thanks but no thanks--that I wasn't interested.  Sorry  guy.