How best to sum up the habits of Homo hungaricus? Says little but shoots from the hip like only a cowboy can. Happy to scrap in a pub with his male enemies or jump into bed with a lady friend. Prefers to fire arrows backwards on horseback and can often be spotted carrying a frozen chicken home in a plastic bag. A confirmed alcoholic. No, of course he’s not an alcoholic, he just likes a drink... or two. Loves tripe but can manage with pizza.
Long on complaining but short on fuse. Known to shed tears in his beer but should he slap the table, it’s sure to send ripples far beyond the bar. Used to be really good at football but is now really good at remembering how good he was.
This guide will take you on a ride to Mars, point out the border between Belgium and the home of Magyar man, outline the limitations of his ideal society and prove beyond doubt that he can wire up an atomic bomb whilst standing in the saddle and driving a team of horses. Should this book leave you not knowing whether to laugh or cry, please feel free to do both at once.
The moment I first met you, I noticed your pride, your sense of superiority, and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others. You are the last man in the world whom I could ever be persuaded to...