A song by Tool, In which a man shows up in a hospital were the staff can’t find a single thing about him. 1doctor, Dr. Larson, asks what’s wrong. The man Reluctantly answers with a tale that belongs in a scuffle-if story about how he was tripping on drugs then all of the sudden an alien ship he described as a “ Flaming stealth banana” and how he was elected by the alien to be the “Chosen one”. The chosen one is the person who will warn the world of incoming Armageddon. Then he forgets what the alien told to him, Which sends him into a fit of him shouting “Don’t Know, won’t know”, He then yells “ God Damn! Shit the bed!” Then the song ends, and nothing else is known about what happened.
An acute condition that occurs while hanging out with native speakers, in which you realize that all of the hours you logged with your Rosetta Stone software in preparation for your trip to Mexico are disappearing from your consciousness as your new amigos keep serving you tequila. The surest sign of this condition is the glazed expression on your face when someone asks, "Como se llama?"
Last night I met a lot of nice folks at a bar in Mexico City who got me so Rosetta Stoned that I could not remember how to ask, "where's the bathroom?" in Spanish.