[ WP ] You anger a local gypsy , and now she 's following you around town putting ridicules curses on you .

`` May others insult the size of your genitals!'' I could hear her through the open window of the gym locker room. She yelled in a thick Slavic accent, partially concealed by the traffic outside. On cue, the other guys in the locker room began nudging each other and stifling laughs. 
 
 `` Hey buddy,'' quipped one, `` you lose your acorn in that bird's nest?'' They all lost it, slapping each other on the back and making jokes about my manhood. 
 
 It had been three days since I went to the county fair outside of town, thinking that it seemed a likely place to find some decent mini donuts. Being somewhat superstitious, I had n't been able to resist the allure of the shabby canvas tent labelled `` Four Tunes Tolled.'' The scene inside was a perfect caricature of a gypsy tent, except riddled with phonetic errors. When I tried to explain that'taro' was a root vegetable and not a prophetic card, the woman had lost all reasonability, calling curses in a language I that did n't understand, but reminded me of a Romanian exchange student I once dated. 
 
 Ever since then I could n't get rid of her. Everywhere I went, there she was, putting these ridicules curses on me.
