Hallo meine chums!
Ich bin Hans Klaussner! Ja! It really is me! I am writing this from crazy love motel within the deepest of domain of Arizona, in USA! My fortunes of travel have been under the most scrutiny, yet Hans is not speaking!! HAHAHA. Yes, you know what I mean, cheeky munchens.
Anyhoo, on to my reason of writings. My good friends at Sherby57 have been in e-mailing me to tell me news of a wondrous message left for me on my last posting – Hans Across America. For those of you who are not in able to click my link, then here is my letter:
Hi Hans,
surely your german is better than my english, therfore I’ll change 
now:
Leider kann ich kein “Lonely Heart” bieten, da ich “Happy married” bin.
Da Du mich aber vor ca. 1000 gefühlten Jahren in München einmal ausgeführt hast und dies für mich ein sehr aufregender Super-Abend war (für Dich evtl. etwas öde) sende ich Dir auf diesem Wege liebe Wintergrüße aus Bayern.
Ich hoffe Dir geht’s gut, Anne
I am finding this most emotional. For my pals who are not speaking ‘da lingo’, I am offering my services of translation:
Unfortunately I cannot offer “Lonely Heart”, since I am “Happy married”. Since you implemented me however before approx. 1000 felt years in Munich once and this for me a very exciting superevening were (for you possibly somewhat desert) send I you in this way dear winter greetings from Bavaria.
I hope you go it well,
Anne
The moistness of my eye, matches only the swelling in the domain of my breast. How cruel is the blow dealt with gusto by my liebling. Why my Anne, have you been insisting in offering your sweetness, yet then be retracting it with much anger? Answer me my Anne! I implore from you your meaning of your love. It is burning within the lateness of my being. I am being corrugated beyond all recognition. (hahaha, this is only being a little Hans jokey!).
Hoping with all my decree for you to write within sundown, my Anne.
Yours hauntingly
Hans
Dear Hans,
with your answer you remember me, that I am yust an little german simplemind. All what I catch from your words is Bahnhof. Sorry therefor.
And I have the feeling this “automatic-german-translating internet-maschine” is an liar.
So: Please don’t let me die stupid and offer me aswell your services of translation.
Deeply grateful greetings, Anne
Dear Anne
I’m afraid that Hans is incommunicado at present, hopefully he does not find himself in danger in the USA. We will pass along your message as soon as we can reach him!
Would I be right in thinking that you are an old friend of Hans? It would be great to get an insight in to him, I’ve only known him since he moved to England.
Yours
Sherby57
I find myself yearning to be at one with this Hans-Anne fandango. It reminds me of the time Des and Daphne reversed the polarity of Harold Bishop’s tuba, resulting in localised scurf.
As you were.
Keep your mitts out of it Dennis, your a pussy-hound of the highest order and I won’t tolerate any interference in a love so pure.
Although Anne is happily married, so I would not cast aspersions on her with regard to a full on love affair with Hans. Plus Hans is currently on his adventure and I wouldn’t like to speak to him.
But apart from that, it’s very nice to hear from you!
It’s always nice to hear from me. Don’t it make you feel good? (errrr errrrr)
I can assure you there will be no interference from me. I am too busy ‘negging’ women and telling them I had rickets as a child in order to sleep with them.
Oh Stefan, you and your negs. I’ll bet you’ll be wearing leather pants and a dayglo orange shirt tonight as you peacock your way around town. You’re a disgrace.
you knowst of ‘the game’ my friend? My nemesis Dr. Angel has recerntly written a ‘rap’ about it which she claims is “bo!”.
I will be wearing a feather boa as I throw out my negs to those wretched bitches.
Yes Stefan, I am more than familiar with ‘The Game’; indeed, I was trained by Style himself. My PUA name is Spatchcock.
My PUA name is Niacin & Riboflavin.
I’ll send a telegram to that angel woman to e-mail you the lyrics. Maybe you can MC on it. Doesn’t work when a woman raps on it, spouts the infernal wretch, Dr. A. She tried to get me to do it, but it wasn’t soft rock enough of Austrian enough for me.
Errr errrr!