Word of the week

"Karteileiche" literally means "index card corpse," but in this case there's no criminal investigator and not even a funeral. These corpses are truly forgotten. "Index card corpses" refer to the personal data on file for an individual who is no longer associated with the organization in question. The typical corpse turns up when Mr. Schmidt switches dentists but remains listed under "S" in first's the file cabinet, or when Ms. Müller's forgets to tell the local chess club she's married, changed her name and moved on to backgammon.

What? He got that job?! That's impossible -- it must have been "Vitamin B." And not the kind you find in fruit and vegetables. The "B" actually stands for "Beziehung" -- "relationship." Knowing the right person (who is willing to pull a few strings for you) can be quite healthy for your career. But it doesn't mean you shouldn't eat your veggies.

When a neat freak enters your home, do you sometimes feel like they have been possessed by the devil? Germans apparently think so. A "Putzteufel" is literally a cleaning devil, and Germans use the expression "possessed by the cleaning devil" when such tidy people are in action.

Will you be tuning into the upcoming FIFA Women's World Cup? Then this word is a must-know! Literally, it means "pack watching" but essentially, it describes a bunch of fervent fans watching soccer in a public place. It was invented before the 2008 UEFA European Football Championship, after some radio hosts complained they were fed up with the anglicized phrase in (mis)use: "Public Viewing." A competition ensued for a more German term - and rudelgucken came out on top. It took a couple of years, but this week, "rudelgucken" was officially added to the official German lexicon, Duden. Germany may have left Euro 2008 without a trophy, but at least it scored some new vocabulary just in time for the FIFA Women's World Cup.

Take yourself back to a crowded junior high lunchroom for a minute. Two girls sit down next to you, and emotions are - predictably - running high: "Wait, what did you tell her about me?!" - "I didn't even talk to her! Why are you always freaking out about nothing?" Sounds like the beginning of a Zickenkrieg, Germans' favorite term for when young women start tangling verbally. Krieg means war, and Zicke refers to a catty, unpleasant person - or to a nanny goat. But in English, we know Zickenkrieg as cat fight. After all, "nanny goat fight" just doesn't have quite the same ring to it.

A Kurschatten, or -- literally -- spa shadow, is an intimate friend (though not necessarily sexually) that people find when they go on a favorite German pastime, a so-called Kur -- a longer stay (usually about a month) at a spa to help cure ailments. Away from home, and away from the stressful daily lifes, people seem to be more open to a little flirtation. The concept of a Kurschatten features prominently in several books of famous German author Thomas Mann, including "Tristan," "Felix Krull" and "Zauberberg." It's unclear, though, whether he himself also met a few Kurschatten in his life.

With the word Blümchenkaffee ("flower coffee"), you might come to creative conclusions, like coffee made from beans mixed with flower petals, or flower designs in the milk foam on top of the latte. However, the word comes from the postwar period in Germany, when money was tight and staples -- like coffee -- were scarce. Those who wanted to enjoy the beverage often had to make it so weak that the flower pattern at the bottom of the china coffee cup could be seen through the thin liquid.

Germany sometimes gets a bad rap for being too serious. After all, it's the land of poets and philosophers - not to mention of overcast weather. But a "Witzbold" is just the opposite, namely a wise guy or prankster who loves to joke around. Even though Chancellor Merkel probably won't ever earn a reputation as a Witzbold, rest assured that you can run across plenty of jokers in Germany. And if not, you can always become one yourself!

The "Kummerkastentante," literally "heartache-box-aunt," often gets letters about love -- How do I know if he's cheating on me? He came an hour late for our date; should I be concerned? -- and sometimes about beauty, etiquette, and workplace dramas. This aunt isn't really anyone's aunt. If she were a real person, she would be Germany's version of America's Dear Abby, without the twin sister and beehive hairstyle. Instead, the term is a general one, referring to any Dear Abby-like column writer.

Did you do something you maybe shouldn't have done during the Carnival period? Did you kiss the wrong person? Or consume an unusually large about of intoxicating substances? No problem - the "Nubbelverbrennung" can remove all feelings of guilt. The "Nubbel" is a big puppet made of straw and is said to represent all the sins that were committed during Carnival. He hangs in front of many cafes and bars during this time, waiting to meet his end in the "Verbrennung" (burning) - a spooky ceremony in which he is set on fire at midnight on Carnival Tuesday. This tradition is relatively new, dating back only to the 20th century, but it's no wonder that it has become popular over the decades. After all, what could be more satisfying than watching your bad deeds go up in flames?

"You take warm showers!" Believe it or not, in German, this put-down phrase is said in one word. "Wimp" or "pansy" are similar expressions in English. Popular German comedian Harald Schmidt brought the term into the limelight during the 1998 soccer World Cup, when he called Jürgen Klinsmann, then a player on the national team, a Warmduscher. Regardless of Klinsmann's preferred shower temperature, the German Soccer Association promptly sued the comedian and won. The jab, however, had already made its way into the vocabularies of countless Schmidt fans across Germany. Web sites sprung up soliciting synonyms of Warmduscher. "Soft egg," "light beer drinker," and "cough drop sucker" are just a few unkind examples.

One would think that using a mnemonic device would be a smart thing to do, but in German a trick to remember something is called a "donkey bridge" ("Eselsbrücke") -- a link between your brain and the thing you want to keep in mind. Why not a clever elephant path? Or a speedy cheetah road? No offense, but donkeys aren't exactly the most intelligent creatures. However, they're definitely stubborn. In fact, the only way to get a donkey to cross a stream is to send him over a bridge. And sometimes a donkey bridge is the only way to get my stubborn memory to remember something. Click on the link below to send us your favorite "Eselsbrücke."

Everything is planned, everything is on track, everything is under control… but then something changes and your plans crumble into one big "Schlamassel." This colorful-sounding word is sure to evoke images of mess and confusion - and that's exactly what it means. It's a combination of the Yiddish word "massel," meaning luck, and the syllable "Schla" - which could either be an adaptation of the German word "schlimm" (bad) or the Hebrew negation "shlo." Regardless of its origins, though, a "Schlamassel" is a situation that you need to work your way out of. Bad luck indeed!

Vergangenheitsbewältigung ("overcoming the past") is generally associated with Germany's process of coming to terms with the history of National Socialism and the Holocaust. Immediately after the war, the occupying Allied powers in Germany made efforts to "de-Nazify" the way Germans viewed the world. The process of Vergangenheitsbewältigung continued over the next several decades in court, with the Nuremberg and Eichmann (photo) trials, for example, as well as in academic circles, among the political class and through the media. Germans struggled not only to understand how Nazi atrocities could have come about but what the past meant for the next generation. Since 1989, the term Vergangenheitsbewältigung has been also used in the context of dealing with the East German communist dictatorship.

Glühwein, literally "glowing wine," is an essential part of holiday cheer and a highlight at every Christmas market in Germany. The seasonal treat is easy to make: Simply heat up red wine, add some cinnamon, cloves, lemon and orange peels and a touch of anise. Then enjoy together with Lebkuchen (see next week's Word of the Week). But be careful, the stuff tends to go straight to your head, so don't say we didn't warn you.

What could cheese possibly have to do with feet? Well, the German word "Kaesefuesse" (literally, "cheese feet") manages to make a connection between the two. Alas, it's not an appetizing one. What happens when you remove your socks after sweating into them all day? Your feet release a rather unpleasant aroma. And it seems that this aroma reminds some people of pungent cheese. So just imagine the cheese that repels you the most - and now you know what "Kaesefuesse" smell like.

A Spitzenreiter is a "front-runner" or "market leader" in German. Granted, the term sounds a bit dry at first, but if you take the word apart, it conjures up much more colorful imagery. "Spitze" is a cusp, point or peak, as in the tip of a pencil or a mountain peak. "Reiter" is an equestrian, or rider. So, picture this: mounted on your elegant, wonderfully reliable steed, you spring from one beautiful mountain top to the next. Not even the sky is your limit in what you can achieve. Isn't imagination lovely?

A Korinthenkacker is someone who is so petty that they are even stingy when it comes to digestive waste products. "Korinthen" are currants and "kacken" is a less-than-medical term meaning something like "to poop." Thus, the "Korinthenkacker" is so paltry that he or she won't leave anything larger than a currant in the toilet. Why that may all seem a bit graphic to you, we're basically talking about a pedantic and small-minded person, who always wants to be right about everything. Think "anal retentive," really.

"Why did the goose cross the road?" (Yes -- goose, not chicken.) Don't know? To get to the other side of the sentence, of course. In German, "little goose feet" (or, "Gaensefuesschen") come at the beginning and end of a quote and are known in English as quotation marks.

You see it before you - the pair of shoes you've been dreaming of. As you come closer, you notice that they are 50 percent off. Better quickly grab them before someone else does! The ease and impulsiveness of such purchases is what inspired the German word "Schnäppchen" - a bargain. Derived from the verb "schnappen" - to snatch, snag or grab - it refers to things that make you want to shout, "What a steal!"

It's easy to get a "Waschbrettbauch" - just watch what you eat, focus on low-fat foods, keep far away from desserts and other empty calories, and make intense stomach workouts part of your weekly routine. Well, ok, maybe it's not so easy after all. But it is easy to remember the word "Waschbrettbauch." In English, it's usually called a six-pack, but the German word for a toned stomach refers to an old-fashioned "Waschbrett" - a washing board with wooden slats to rub dirty clothes on. There's another comfort when it comes to the "Waschbrettbauch": Everyone has one, even if you can't always see it!

Arturo Gomez wasn't sure what he was looking at when he identified this object in the sky, captured here by NASA's Hubble Telescope. Its hamburger buns are light reflecting off dust, and the patty is the dark band of dust in the middle, which earned it the nickname "Gomez's Hamburger." Identifying a hamburger-like celestial body must have been something of a "Sternstunde" (moment of glory) for Mr. Gomez. But not every "Sternstunde" (literally, star hour) has to include a star. In fact, enjoying a very tasty non-galactic hamburger with all the fixings could also qualify as one for some.

If a German said to you that they've just returned from a "Wellness" weekend, what would you think? That they went to a health seminar? That they participated in spiritual chanting? No, it's far simpler than that. They probably stayed at a spa resort, indulging in a lot of massages, cosmetic treatments and whirlpool sessions. This type of pampering is what German-speakers know as "Wellness," even though in English the term is rarely used except to refer to alternative medicine, spiritual development, or simply general wellbeing and the absence of disease. Germans like the word - and the concept - so much, however, that you can even find "Wellness" shower gels and "Wellness" body lotions. Somehow shower gel just can't compete with real spa treatment, though.

We all know what a mob is, but what on earth is "Mobbing" and why do Germans use this word so much? Well, if your classmates or colleagues are nasty to you and abuse you verbally or physically, you can complain that you are a victim of "Mobbing." It's what English speakers would call "bullying," of course. And although it may sound odd, the word was very logically created from the verb "to mob" and it was first used by Austrian behavioral scientist Konrad Lorenz to describe animals that launch group attacks on predators.

Germans are famous for their industriousness and efficiency. Still, the language has a word for the very opposite, too. Maybe you are tired and it's hot out; maybe you don't care about the job you are supposed to do; you are careless, ineffective, and clearly unmotivated. You've fallen back into bad habits - into the old "Schlendrian." A disatisfied employer might exclaim: "Schlendrian has crept into this work." The word possibly derives from the verb "schlendern," which describes a slow saunter, and the noun "jan," Middle High German for work.

A particular type of egomaniac, the "Selbstdarsteller" isn't just obsessed with himself, but with creating a public image of himself. A "self-promotor" or, literally, "self-portrayer," he will twist any situation to throw himself into the spotlight and usually his actions are louder than his words. The Selbstdarsteller's gift is often the ability to make himself indispensible within a group that may actually dislike him. Politics aside, Italy's prime minister is certainly one who likes to make the news.

To grow an ice flower (Eisblume) you don't need dirt or even a pot. "Eisblumen" don't grow in the ground -- rather, on poorly insulated windows. When the temperature outside is below freezing, it's warm inside and there's dust on the pane, small ice crystals will begin to appear. Over time, the glazed frost can build flowery patterns.

He sits next to you on the bus and tells you his life's story. At the dinner table he talks incessantly about everything and nothing, and you can't get a word in edgewise. He is on the phone for hours and keeps everyone informed about everyone else's business. A "Plaudertasche" is a veritable chatterbox.

The elegance of German is -- to some -- its most appealing quality, and "Fingerhut" is a perfect example. As soon as one learns that the word translates as "finger hat," its meaning becomes apparent.

"Pomeranze" is German for bitter orange, a citrus fruit. And life can certainly be bitter for a "Landpomeranze" - a country gal or hillbilly - when she visits the big city. There she is, decked out in her very finest, only to find that she is immediately recognizable by the clothes she is wearing. She (and yes, "Landpomeranze" usually refers to women) might think it's the height of fashion, but she is light years away, a far cry from Carrie and her friends in "Sex and the City." Add to that her accent and her lack of city ways: "Landpomeranze" is not an endearing term for the fair sex.

Germans are famous for being diligent workers. But what is less well known is that they take vacation as seriously as they do work. Two holidays always fall on a Thursday, usually in May or June - Ascension Day and Corpus Christi. Naturally, working on the Friday between a holiday and a weekend would hardly be worth it; most Germans are either given this so-called "Brueckentag" (literally, "bridge day") off work, or they take it off themselves and make a long weekend out of it. As for all the rest of the holidays, those that fall on a Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday provide plenty more opportunities for a free "Brueckentag" - or two or three. After all, a work week disrupted by a holiday is inevitably unproductive, so you might as well enjoy it!

The German language is kind of like Legos: Just stack the words together to make (up) a new compound term. "Eierschalensollbruchstellenverursacher" is a good example. Sure it's long, but when taken apart literally the "egg shell pre-determined breaking point causer" actually makes sense. At least it does to Germans, everyone else needs a handful of words to explain what this breakfast gadget does. Quite simply, an "Eierschalensollbruchstellenverursacher" is used to crack the shell of a boiled egg. Admittedly, they're not as common in Germany as they should be, since soft-boiled eggs served in an egg cup with a mini egg spoon, are an essential part of a traditional German breakfast. People who haven't had a second cup of coffee, however, can be excused for cracking their eggs with spoons rather than trying to ask for the "Eierschalensollbruchstellenverursacher." Though dropping a weight onto an egg remains something everyone should try at least once.

A "Schneebesen" is a wire whisk. The German term, however, is appreciably more poetic since literally translated, it means "snow broom." The name comes from "Eischnee" (egg-snow), which means whipped egg white, or meringue. Using your snow broom and plenty of energy, you can whip up some pure white "egg-snow," or at least make some scrambled eggs.

A "Wendehals," literally "turn neck," is someone from former East Germany whose political convictions did a one-eighty during the reunification period of 1989 to 1990. Amidst the political upheaval of the time, some of those who had publicly supported the former communist parties conveniently decided to change their tune and preach democratic politics or even join the West German political parties. Ironically, the German word "Wende" means "the turn" in general, but is also used specifically to refer to German reunification. These days, a "Wendehals" can be anyone that changes their opinion to fit the situation.

Strangely enough, the German word for "somersault" is comprised of one very active word, namely "purzeln" (to tumble), and one rather immobile word, "baum" (tree). If you've ever seen a tree do a somersault, do let us know. This one certainly isn't getting ready to do flips.

"Bandsalat" is a kind of salad that you'd probably be a bit reluctant to eat. It's the "salad" that forms when a videotape or cassette goes haywire, and the tape gets all tangled up in itself. In English, people sometimes say "tape jam" or "tape spaghetti." Jam, salad, spaghetti – with enough malfunctioning tapes, you could almost host a dinner party!

Everbody knows that there are no free rides in this world and that a free-rider isn't getting a free ride, he's just not paying for it himself. Someone else is. In German, the word for free-rider -- "Trittbrettfahrer" (literally "footboard rider") -- can refer to the dishonest streetcar passenger who boards without a ticket. But it is also used to describe a larger social phenomenon of people who take without giving. The tax-payer who refuses to contribute to national security, but enjoys the protection of the military is the classic example.

Germans are known for their love of security, orderliness -- and cars. So it's no wonder that a discussion has arisen over the number of street signs on German roads. Are there so many that drivers overlook all of them? Or does "the more, the better" apply here as well? Those take the former opinion might call the excess a "Schilderwald," or "forest of signs." So perhaps those who can't see the forest for the trees make the safest drivers in Germany.

Germans enjoy their free time. They work hard, but they also know how to take time off. That's probably why they have a special work for the end of the work day: "Feierabend." It's a composition of the words "celebrate" and "evening" -- but Feierabend has nothing to do with evening. It can come at any time of day or night. And on Fridays, it often comes as early as 1:00 in the afternoon! It looks like this businessman can hardly wait for Feierabend.

"Cozy" and "comfortable" come close, but unfortunately there's no exact translation of "Gemütlichkeit." It's not just a word, but also a concept -- even a way of life in Germany. Just close your eyes and imagine you are cuddling up with your loved one in front of the fireplace, enjoying a leisurely dinner in your favorite restaurant or just lounging at the breakfast table in your pajamas on a Saturday morning. Got the idea?

If you find yourself standing next to someone with Bärenhunger, it's probably best not to annoy them. These people have a ravenous appetite and turn into animals at the very sight of food. "Bär" is the German word for bear and it will come as no surprise that "Hunger" means hunger, so someone with Bärenhunger is as hungry as a bear. And bears are notoriously big eaters who like to wolf down anything and everything they can find - from insects and herbs to deer and sheep. So you need to make sure your kitchen is well stocked if you've got someone with Bärenhunger coming for dinner because a bowl of pasta definitely won't do the trick - you'll need to serve up at least a whole pot of the stuff. The word Bärenhunger may have been inspired by the noise of a rumbling stomach, which sounds rather like a growling bear. In any case, humans and animals have one thing in common when it comes to hunger: If they don't fill the hole in their stomachs immediately, they can get quite restless and aggressive.

Ever wake up one morning with the uncontrollable urge to get something done; run a marathon, climb a mountain or write a novel? In German, this basic drive to accomplish a task is called "Tatendrang" or literally "action urge." It does not, however, describe that uncontrollable desire to wake up on Sunday morning and do absolutely nothing.

A slowpoke, dawdler, stick in the mud - we all have days when we just can't get into gear, some more frequently than others. In German, the appropriate insult for the idler is, admittedly, somewhat graphic and not particularly appetizing. "Trantuete" literally means "bag of whale blubber." That's enough to make anyone pick up the pace a bit.

After last week's word "Hueftgold," you might think that "Speckguertel" (literally, "bacon belt") is what Heidi Klum would get around her waist if she actually ate the French fries she was advertising. However, the "Speckguertel" concept has more to do with sociology and urban development than nutrition. It refers to the wealthy suburbs that tend to encircle larger cities. Though Heidi Klum may not be wearing any "bacon belts," one of her favorite cities -- Los Angeles -- is practically one giant "Speckguertel."

Big parties, lofty resolutions and lots of fireworks - it must be time to ring in the new year! And that means there's one phrase everyone's sure to hear in Germany: "Guten Rutsch!" In English, the phrase would be "Happy New Year," but "Guten Rutsch" literally translates to "Good jump" or "Good slide." Linguists debate whether the use of "Rutsch" stems from Yiddish or from an archaic German word meaning "journey." But one thing is certain - everyone's hoping for a good jump into 2010.

The fellow in the drawing was too greedy - and fell into the cake dough. Sticky toothpaste on the door handle, marbles underfoot, a doorbell rung incessantly but no one is at the door when you open, a stink bomb thrust into your open car window - the list of pranks goes on and on. A "Schabernack" refers to a relatively harmless practical joke. It's all about mischief and monkey business.

An "Eselsohr" or "donkey's ear" is used to describe the corner of a page that has been folded inwards, resembling the floppy triangular ear of a donkey. "Eselsohren" occur in two classic ways: Unfortunate people who don't have a bookmark at hand might fold over one or more pages to mark their place, while slapdash readers might simply lean on a book and unthinkingly make a mess of the corners. In English people talk about "dog-ears" to describe this, but in Germany dogs have very tidy, pointy ears -- though you can't say the same for those unkempt donkeys!

"Schickschnack" is all the bells and whistles - the adornments, decorations and accoutrements - that make life both snazzy and weighty. Like the knick-knacks you got for your birthday from some distant relative, which are now collecting dust on your bookshelves. But Germans take "Schnickschnack" to a whole new level, like when they say: "give it to me straight, without all the Schnickschack" - without all the fluffy, frilly stuff. So, next time you get in the take-out line, you could just say: "I'll have a burger, without all the 'Schnickschnack.'"

This fox looks quite calm and sweet. Still, foxes have a reputation for being sly, cunning. In the darkness of night, they may sneak into a farm and feast on the chickens without even stirring the farmer from his slumber. But should it get caught in a trap, the fox will thrash about wildly as it tries to escape. When the farmer rises in the morning and discovers the fox's handiwork, he will no doubt be "fuchsteufelswild." This German word is used to describe an enraged, infuriated person - someone as wild as a fox and mad as the devil.

A "Spassvogel" (literally, "fun bird") is that person who's always trying to get a laugh - and often does so, even unwittingly. But then, the Spassvogel will happily offer himself up as the butt of a joke if it means getting a little attention and seeing others crack a smile. Similar to a "Witzbold" (see last week's Word of the Week), the Spassvogel is a comic character that no one takes seriously. This bird, however, may have fun, lively coloring - but it's doubtful that he has gotten a smile out of that fish in his mouth.

A "Gugelhupf" is similar to the American Bundt-cake -- basically a round cake with a hole in the middle that originated in south-western Germany near the French border. Some say that "Gugel" comes from "Kugel" (here, bowl) and "Hupf" from "Hefe" (yeast). Others say that the name is a derivation of the phrase "Lupfen des Kugels," an old-fashioned way of saying "lift the bowl." Indeed, the trickiest part of baking a Gugelhupf is getting it out of the pan afterwards. At first glance, one might also think that "Hupf" is related to the word "hüpfen," which means to skip or hop, but they have nothing to do with each other. Besides, Gugelhupfs generally tend to sit still on the counter when they're set out to cool.

If you're up on your German vocabulary, you may think this week's word is a cousin of "Quatsch," meaning baloney or hogwash. And you wouldn't be far from the truth. In a sentence like "Du redest nur Quark" ("You're just talking nonsense!"), Quark means just what it sounds like: a bunch of claptrap. But don't be surprised if you see Quark at the grocery store or a fruit stand. It usually refers to a milky concoction that can be categorized somewhere between cheese and yoghurt. Sweeter versions of Quark, often mixed with fruit, are perfect for dessert - and, hey, it tastes a lot better than baloney!

The German word for honeymoon, "Flitterwochen," brings together "woche" (week) with "flittern," which refers to the shiny decoration on a bridal cap. But Flitterwochen also is likely related to the Old German word "vlittern," which evokes whispering, giggling or caressing. A week of whispers and caresses? Sounds just like what every newlywed needs.

Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side! - Did you actually laugh at this joke? Not only is it far from funny, but you've no doubt already heard it a thousand times. In German, someone who tells too many dull jokes far too often can be ironically called a "Scherzkeks," which literally translates to "joke cookie." Honestly, I'd take the cookie and leave the joke.

A "Milchmaedchenrechnung," or milk maid's account, doesn't add up -- it's not enough to pay the bill. As so often in German, the term goes back to a bygone century. One possible source is an 18th century fable entitled, appropriately, "The Milk Maid." Here, a farmer's wife goes to market to sell her milk and, along the way, she starts thinking about how she'll spend the money she expects to earn -- until she gets distracted by her own imagination and spills the milk. So much for the expensive dreams…

You wake up to a rooster crowing at 6 a.m. and head across a field to the barn - making sure you don't land in any cow patties along the way. Sound like a typical morning? Or a particularly good morning? Then there's no hiding it: You could be a "Landei." Literally, a Landei is a farm-fresh egg, but city slickers love to use the word to refer to the less cosmopolitan. But don't let them ruffle your feathers - after all, somebody has to collect the eggs!

If someone calls you a "Schlaumeier," you can feel flattered: They think you're smart, cunning and crafty. "Meier" is a common German surname, like "Smith" in English, and "schlau" means clever. But, watch out! The would-be compliment could be given with a slightly facetious undertone. In this case, you may have been spotted as a Meier who thinks he is being particularly clever, but has missed the mark! Donald Duck, who celebrated his 75th birthday earlier this month, is one of the world's most famous - and beloved - Schlaumeier.

When the slipper-clad American looks in the pan on a Saturday morning, he sees the sun. The German, however, sees himself. In German, a sunny-side-up egg is called a "Spiegelei" -- literally, "mirror egg." The term probably refers to the glossiness of the yolk, which remains soft while the egg white becomes opaque. Frankly, though, I prefer to avoid the mirror after just getting out of bed.

If you know a little bit of German, this week's word might send a shiver down your spine. After all, Mord means "murder" - while Hunger is a familiar cognate. But if a German tells you he's got a case of Mordshunger, there's no need to go diving for shelter. The term is an exaggeration meaning that someone is ravenously hungry, perhaps a bit like the English expression, "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse!" Just be sure not to confuse the two. Saying "I'm so hungry I could murder a horse!" is sure to draw you some weird looks.

In a German beer garden on a hot and sunny day, seated under a canopy of chestnut trees, gravel crunching underfoot, many people are likely to order a "Radler." What they are served looks just like an ordinary glass of beer - but what it really is, right here in the land of the beer purity law, is a 50-50 mix of beer and Sprite. Diluted, refreshing, slightly sweet, with less alcohol - it's a favorite among those who have to drive home after their beer garden outing and among those who find pure beer too bitter. Considering Germany's strong reputation as a nation of beer enthusiasts, outsiders may be quite shocked to learn of the "Radler" - which may just make it Germany's best-kept secret. "Radler" has another meaning too, which - with a little imagination - isn't that far-fetched. It is a nickname for a cyclist and one can just imagine how the drinkable "Radler" just might have been invented one hot summer day after a long strenuous bike tour.

"Kleinod" was crowned the most beautiful endangered German word last week by a jury of language experts as part of an independent context initiated by writer and journalist Bodo Mrozek. The jury had to decide between 2,000 suggestions from German-speaking countries and abroad of words that are disappearing from common use. In use as early as the Middle Ages, Kleinod had many uses. It referred to the adornment on a knight's helmet, for example, as well as a king's orb and sceptre. It could also mean a gift or payment -- even livestock or vegetables. In short, a "Kleinod" was something valuable. Used figuratively, it came to mean a seemingly inconsequential object whose personal significance isn't necessarily evident at first glance. Indeed, a word itself can also be a "Kleinod" -- a point which convinced the jury to select it as the most beautiful endangered word. Perhaps the recognition will bring "Kleinod" back to the land of the living, which is precisely Bodo Mrozek's intent.

The Who and Elton John sang about them, and Frank Sinatra was famous for his pair - but in German, being "blauaeugig" (blue-eyed) isn't necessarily a good thing. Although the word may just refer to a person with a set of blue irises, blauaeugig also means naive or gullible. So you may want to think twice when fielding compliments on your dreamy blue eyes in Germany. As for this cat, he may have one blue eye, but he can't be easily fooled.

Germans like their dogs. In fact, dog owners tend to bring them everywhere: on the subway, in department stores and sometimes even into bars. So maybe it's no surprise that cats get cast in a bad light in this week's word, "Katzengold" (literally, cat's gold). In English, this shiny material is referred to as "fools' gold." It may look like real gold, but it's worthless. But, lest Garfield get in a huff, "Katzengold" in no way passes judgement over man's best feline friends. Actually, "Katzen" is derived from the word "Ketzer," which means "heretic" - and that applies to anyone who tries to pass off fools' gold as something valuable.

Germans have, apparently, never subscribed to the premise that you can't make all the people happy all the time. That's the idea behind the word "Eierlegende Wollmilchsau." Who wouldn't be happy to have a pig that lays eggs, gives milk and produces wool before it's turned into a tasty Sunday roast? These days, the term has come to mean any person or device that's able to be used in a wide variety of ways -- like an alarm clock that makes coffee and toast or a cell phone that reminds you to pickup the dry cleaning.

No word confounds a learner of the German language more than "beziehungsweise," better known by its abbreviated form "bzw." This word has no English equivalent but can be literally translated as "relation manner" or, depending on the context, can mean "and," "but," "rather," "alternatively," "respectively," "more specifically" -- the list goes on. Even Germans criticize the overuse of this confounding word. Here is an example of "bzw." in use: "Languages bzw. German, have many phrases bzw. words that cannot be completely translated bzw. understood by learners of the language bzw. humans."

In Germany, like in most other places, if you want to see a pony you'll probably need to visit a stable. But you can also ask for one at the hairdresser's. That's because, in German, a "Pony" is not just a small horse breed, it is also the term for bangs. Apparently strapped for words to describe this modern type of hairstyle, its creators opted to name it after the animal that typically sports a long fringe - with one tiny difference. While the animal has been assigned the grammatically gender-neutral article "das," use the male article "der Pony" when talking with your hair stylist.

Scheinheilig means "hypocritical" or "sanctimonious," but the literal translation - "apparently holy, or giving the appearance of being holy" certainly conjures up more visually. Maybe that's because if you turn the words around, you also get a more poignant religious icon: Heiligenschein, which means "halo, nimbus or gloriole." Either way, just make sure you put on the right hat before you walk out the door.

"Lion's mane" would seem like a more appropriate name for a dandelion than "lion's tooth" (Loewenzahn). However, the connection to the king of the jungle refers not to the flower but to its leaves -- the part that your pet rabbit eats (not pictured here). Though most English speakers have likely never associated the delicate weed with the lions -- despite the appearance of the one word in the other -- upon further examination we find that the word "dandelion" originated as a corruption of the French name "dent de lion," which also means lion's tooth. So, in the end, dandelion and "Loewenzahn" mean exactly the same thing. Let out a roar and make a good wish the next time you blow the top off a dandelion.

"I know my Pappenheimer," says the teacher who knows it was her students who were smoking secretly in the bathrooms. And the father who's sure it was his son who started a fire in the neighbors' bushes says the same. "I know my Pappenheimer!" says the landlord who caught the neighbor kids red-handed as they were putting worms in all the mailboxes on the street. But what are Pappenheimer? It certainly sounds like they're people who get into lots of mischief. Originally, that wasn't the case at all. Pappenheim is a small, quiet town with only 4,000 residents. The famous 18th-century poet and playwright Friedrich von Schiller made the village famous in his drama "Wallenstein's Death," set during the Thirty Years' War. "That's how I recognize my Pappenheimer," says General Wallenstein (pictured, played by Austrian actor Klaus Maria Brandauer) when a group of loyal, courageous soldiers are led in by Duke Gottfried Heinrich zu Pappenheim. Wallenstein knew he could count on them. Since then, the expression has lost its positive connotation, however. Nowadays, a "Pappenheimer" is someone who can be counted on to be naughty.

Since raven chicks leave the nest even before they can fly, it is sometimes assumed that they are anxious to get away from mothers who don't take good care of them. The term "Rabenmutter," or "raven mother," is used to refer to absent moms of the human species. They may give up their children for adoption or neglect them. These days, career vs. family is a hot topic, and "Rabenmutter" is sometimes used to criticize working moms. What is less known, however, is that raven mothers continue to feed their young on the ground for weeks after they've left the safety of the nest.

Most men would feel flattered to be called Tarzan. Which guy wouldn't want to be identified with the manly, tough, buff king of the jungle? However, being called an "asparagus Tarzan" ("Spargeltarzan") isn't much of a compliment. Popeye may consume a different green vegetable in mass quantities to bulk up, but a "Spargeltarzan's" muscles don't get any bigger from eating asparagus, because he doesn't have any. Instead, the rather cruel nickname means he resembles an asparagus stalk -- tall, scrawny, gangly, and decidedly void of muscle mass. Unlike the true king of the jungle, a "Spargeltarzan" might not survive very long among the tigers, poisonous snakes and stampeding elephants.

Imagine a large pig running along a ramp, jumping and squealing, or showing off its skateboard skills -- like it or not, it commands your attention. That is exactly what a human Rampensau -- "ramp sow" -- aims to do. Whether it's on stage, in a concert, on a TV shows or during an otherwise boring presentation, a Rampensau wants to be center stage and attract everyone's attention. The term comes from the theater world where "ramp" refers to the boundary between the stage and the audience. Originally, a Rampensau was an actor who reveled in his role and made the best of it, minor though it may be. While a Rampensau may steal the limelight, the term is used more in a descriptive than a negative way.

"But officer, there weren't any cars coming!" In Germany, you aren't likely to get much sympathy from the police officer who catches you crossing the street on a red light, and if you're unlucky, you'll even have to pay for this "Kavaliersdelikt" (trifling offense). However, perhaps if you politely conduct yourself like a "Kavelier" (gentleman), the police officer will have pity on you and make you suffer like a pedestrian serial offender for a mere pecadillo. "Do excuse me officer, I didn't even notice that the light had turned red so quickly. But if I had, I naturally would have waited at the curb, to be a stellar example to the children present!"

Carnival is more than a holiday and more than an outrageous, city-wide costume party - it's practically its own season in some parts of Germany. The high point usually comes in February or March, but the kick-off date is always the same: November 11. Revelers this year are in for a special treat, though. In case they needed any more of an excuse to go tearing through the streets, the festival gets started at 11:11 am on 11.11.2011 - five elevens in a row! And for us, it's a good excuse to learn the word Schnapszahl, a German term for any repeating digit. Maybe it's no coincidence that Schnaps also translates as "booze," sure to be in good supply during the upcoming Schnapszahl event.

If you've got <i>Kreislaufstörung,</i> you probably feel a bit dizzy and light-headed because your blood isn't circulating properly. But be careful, breaking down the German word might just make you dizzier. "Kreis-lauf-störung" literally means "circle-run-disturbance." You probably never thought of your blood running in a circle, not to mention it tripping over hurdles along the way, but that is pretty much how you feel. Right?

When you hear the term "love killers," a variety of things may come to mind that could put a damper on passion: taking a cell phone call during a romantic dinner, for example, or poor personal hygiene. However, the German word for love-killer ("Liebestoeter") refers specifically to long underwear. Why that is -- we'll leave up to your imagination.

Everybody has a pig-dog deep down inside of them - or what Germans call a "Schweinehund." Just because you've never actually seen one doesn't mean they don't exist. Pig-dogs, in fact, can be very stubborn. You know you ought to go on a diet, or get up early to go jogging, or sit down and concentrate on that long-overdue paper - it's the proverbial pig-dog inside of you that you have to overcome to actually get going.

"Excuse me, how far is it from here to the train station?" "The station is just a 'Katzensprung' from here." A cat's leap, that is, is an approximate unit of measurement refering to a short distance. But how far can a cat jump? Depending on how many bags you have to lug to the train station, you may hope the person you asked had Garfield in mind.

After so many words of the week, it's time for a little break - with a non-word, an "Unwort." Ever since the Association for the German Language began selecting its Unwort des Jahres (Non-word of the Year) in 1991, Unwort has gained traction as a way to refer to all sorts of clumsy expressions, especially those used in the public sphere. The most recent prize-winning non-word is "alternativlos," an adjective meaning "without alternatives." The jury said they selected it because of politicians' grating tendency to insist there's no other way around a situation, and we see no alternative but to agree.

It couldn't be a better compliment. When someone calls you a "Tausandsassa," it means you're incredibly multi-talented! Apparently stemming from the 18th century, the word's origin is diverse: "sa sa" was said to dogs to incite them to attack people, as in "sic 'em!" Tausand sa sa's, then, means "one thousand sic 'ems." So a "Tausandsassa" is likely someone who can "sic it to 'em" a thousand different times and still remain standing. But whether to man or beast, the word is still fun to say. And the Austrian German version might be even more pleasing to slip over one's lips: "Wunderwuzzi."

Served as a light dinner in Switzerland, müsli is much more than your basic milk and grains -- and the better varieties of müsli don't taste anything like the cardboard box they're poured out of. Many Germans, in fact, eschew the boxes altogether. Instead, they buy grains and dried fruits to blend their own high-fiber mixture with milk, yogurt and sometimes even chocolate. Nowadays in Germany, many types of breakfast cereal -- even those that aren't low in sugar and high in fiber -- are often referred to as müsli.

If you're overwhelmed at work and someone suggests you use the "Salamitaktik," many things may immediately spring to mind. Maybe your colleague is suggesting that you make your excuses and leave the hectic office to make an emergency dash to the butcher's. Or perhaps your colleague is advising a less extreme version of the "going postal" phenomenon, where you assault your demanding boss with a large sausage rather than an automatic weapon. In fact, your colleague would be suggesting that you use a time management strategy where you break up your mountainous task into small, bite-sized portions. The reducing of your massive workload into manageable pieces is therefore compared to the slicing of a large salami into smaller slices. If you still feel like hitting your boss with a large sausage after doing that, then that is your prerogative.

The deal seemed legitimate; he'd said he would invest the money in a promising new start-up company -- until he just disappeared with his investors' life savings. He was a "Hochstapler." At first glance, the German word looks like a compound of the words for "high" and "stacker," which seems completely reasonable. After all, a conman probably quite enjoys stacking money. But, as is so often the case, the word has its roots in antiquated vocabulary. "Stapeln" likely came from an old slang word for "to beg," while "hoch" in this sense implies courtliness. But that doesn't stop the Hochstapler from stacking his money up high.

She wears revealing outfits and heavy make-up, which she checks regularly, and is known for being shallow and petty. In German, you could call her a "Tussi" - generally pronounced with a condescending tone. The word stems from the ancient Germanic heroine Thusnelda, who was anything but a "Tussi." In the first century A.D., when the northern Germanic tribes were at war with the Romans, her own father delivered her over to the enemy to be imprisoned. According to the history books, she remained brave and honorable during her incarceration. "Tussi" is, therefore, a rather inapt insult. "Paris Hilton" would perhaps be more suitable.

"It sounds like something yummy, but it's anything but appetizing. "Geruechtekueche" literally means "rumor kitchen," and the image is perfect: the place you cook up all sorts of true and untrue things to say about other people. The word implies a mastery of blending ingredients together into one big soup, so that truth and fiction can no longer be distinguished from one another. And when the Geruechtekueche really gets going, the Germans say, "die Geruechtekueche brodelt" - the rumor kitchen is brewing and bubbling. Then, you can just imagine a little witch hunched over her kettle, muttering, "Double, double, toil and trouble. Fire burn, and caldron bubble." In other words, there's nothing like chowing down on a good ol' rumor. Guten Appetit!

Perfectly manicured fingernails, hair coiffed just right, nose powdered matte and Prada on her feet - a hoity-toity lady like that is much too "etepetete" to tolerate a slobbery greeting from the neighbor's dog or impolite service from the taxi driver. She might consider herself classy, or even choosy, but likely wouldn't be too pleased to be called "etepetete" to her face. That's one case of a German word that sounds pleasant, even though its meaning isn't.

Tigers, sharks and humans are "Fleischfresser," literally flesh-eaters, or carnivores. Squirrels and goats fit into the herbivore, or "Pflanzenfresser" category as they eat "Pflanzen," plants. What, then, is an "Aasfresser?" Don't let your imagination run astray; "Aasfresser" like vultures and raccoons don't eat #*$%, they eat carrion. That is, nature's trash.

Contrary to your likely first impression, a "Phantombild" (literally, ghost picture) is not what the Ghost Busters use to go on in their search for spooks and gouls. After all, the Stay-Puff Marshmellow Man is fairly unmistakable. Rather, it's the police who use "Phantombilder" when they're looking for very real, usually human criminals. The police employ specially trained artists to sketch a "Phantombild" of a suspect according to a witness' description. Of course, some pretty strange images probably end up on the sketch pad, but we'll assume the police pass those cases on to the specialists -- the Ghost Busters.

"I seem to have lost my phone number - can you give me yours?" This would be a typical line uttered by a "Lustmolch." You can find them in many places: at a bar, on the bus, and sometimes even in your office. As soon as they see a potential conquest, they launch their pick-up offensive. Consisting of the words "Lust" (desire) and "Molch" (newt), "Lustmolch" is a derogatory term for someone who's only after one thing.

The apartment is great, says the real estate agent, there's a balcony, high ceilings, and three bedrooms. But what she fails to mention are the rusted pipes, drafty windows and loud neighbors. What "Augenwischerei!" The word literally means "eye-wiping" and in this case, the real estate agent is hoping to blur her potential customers' vision just a bit -- or at least pull the wool over their eyes.

You stride confidently to the front of the room, and a hush settles over the audience. All eyes are on you as you open your mouth. But - wait - what's happening? Your pulse quickens, and you've forgotten what you wanted to say. Someone snickers in the back row. "Lampenfieber" has struck again! The German word for "stage fright" is a literal take on that uneasy feeling some people get in the spotlight. "Lampenfieber" translates to lamp-fever and recalls the bright lights of the stage. But you don't have to be performing to suffer from this strange affliction, so watch out. Lampenfieber can hit you any time you're in the hot seat. After all, the whole world's a stage.

He may like to brag and play the tough guy when he's at work or out with his buddies in the pub. But when he's at home, it's his wife who's got the pants on. For his part, the so-called "slipper hero" isn't very heroic at all. Rather, he meekly takes orders, lest the lady of the house throw her not-so-soft slipper at him.

What are the best conditions for carrying out a secret operation? It should be dark, of course, and the camouflage is even more complete when it's foggy, too. Such a clandestine undertaking, known as a "Nacht- und Nebel-Aktion" (literally, night and fog mission), aptly applies to both the criminal sphere and the police who follow in their tracks. To get some examples, just grab a CIA novel - it should be full of Nacht- und Nebel-Aktionen!

You're late for an important job interview. If you take the bus, you'll be at least half an hour late. But if you take a taxi, you'll have to spend the last of the cash in your wallet. You're stuck between a rock and a hard place and there's no good solution. You're in a "Zwickmuehle." Though the word "Zwickmuehle" contains the German word for mill ("Muehle"), it has little to do with the grinders, though getting stuck in one could in fact constitute a "Zwickmuehle." Indeed, the world's most famous mill, namely the Moulin Rouge in Paris, has most certainly been the cause of more than one "Zwickmuehle." Rather, the expression comes from a strategic board game for two players called "Muehlespiel." Similar to check-mate in chess, when one player plays the "Zwickmuehle" move combination, the other is trapped. If only everything in life were just a game.

Pigs are big in the German diet - after all, the country boasts 1,200 types of sausage. So it is probably not surprising to learn that the animals loom large in the German language, too. Different words for pig can be used as a prefix to give emphasis, as is the case with a pair of polar opposites: "saubillig," ("sow-cheap," meaning "dirt cheap,") and "schweineteuer" ("swine expensive," aka, "costing an arm and a leg.") In fact, the prefixes have nothing to do with pigs or thier specific attributes; here they just mean "very." Both words can be used to illustrate Germans' complaints that groceries were cheaper before the euro. Back when they had the mark, they say, pork chops were "saubillig," but today they’re "schweineteuer." Either way, they're likely to be "saulecker" ("sow-delicious,)" which we translate as "Yum!"

Are you sore from your big workout yesterday? In German you would say you've got Muskelkater. "Muskel," as you might have guessed, is the word for muscle. "Kater" is a bit more ambiguous: it can mean both a male cat and a hangover. The first combination doesn't seem to make any sense at all, especially considering that a cat's favorite activity -- namely, sunbathing -- requires zero muscle exertion. A "muscle hangover" also doesn't seem to fit the bill, since it's definitely not fair to mix up bad (alcohol) and good (exercise) excesses. In any case, some say that it's most likely that "Kater" has nothing to do with cats or hangovers, but that it's derived from the medical term "catarrh," which refers to the inflammation of a mucuous membrane. The Muskelkater is, then, the inflammation of a muscle, rather than of a mucous membrane. Seems like coffee and aspirin aren't the best remedy for sore muscles after all.

When Lebkuchen hit the supermarket shelves at the end of October, you know Christmas is on its way. These hearty cookies make for a wintry accompaniment to Glühwein (see last week's word). Though they come in a variety of forms, most Lebkuchen are made with cinnamon, cloves and anise and often with nutmeg, ginger, coriander and cardamom as well. Though "Leb-" resembles the German word for life ("Leben"), the cookie's name more likely stems from the Latin word "libum," which were sacrificial cakes eaten on sacred occasions in ancient Rome. In Germany, Lebkuchen also have religious roots: They were first made by Franconian monks -- who apparently hadn't sworn an oath of abstaining from tasty treats.

You think you're overweight, which makes you depressed. You are depressed, so you binge on chocolate to make yourself feel better. You binge on chocolate, so you gain even more weight… Welcome to the situation known to the Germans as a "Teufelskreis" - literally "devil's cycle." It's a loop of bad events - each one the cause of the next - and it's very difficult to break. Particularly when chocolate is involved. It's the dreaded vicious circle. Some moments you just feel like giving up, throwing in the towel - and reach for another.

For learners of German, the word "Blaumann" may conjure up images of the fictional blue men in white hats we all remember watching on television as children - the Smurfs. But while "blau" does mean blue and "Mann" is the German word for man, a Blaumann is rather mundane compared to the adventures on which the Smurfs love to embark. Blaumann actually refers to a boiler suit or overall, so it's all work and no play for those who wear them. While most of these items of protective clothing are in fact blue, even the green and orange varieties are referred to as Blaumann.

Technically speaking, the Germans really borrowed Prost (or more accurately, Prosit) from the Romans, since the word is a conjugated form of the verb prodesse, which means "to be useful," or "to agree with." Prosit is the verb's subjunctive mood and literally means "May it agree with you" or "May it be useful," which seems rather appropriate when talking about, well, a toast. So when you're out and about celebrating the New Year on Wednesday, why not impress your friends with a hearty "Prosit Neujahr," or "Happy New Year!" We hope it will be a great one for you!

"Your parents are at the tennis tournament/ You're throwing a party, how nice of you/ Impulsive people know no limits!/ Chuck the furniture out the window, we need room to dance!" Those are the opening lyrics to the Hamburg hip-hop group Deichkind's 2008 dance-floor hit "Remmidemmi (yippi yippi yeah)." The song is about a group of rowdy kids crashing a rich friend's quiet party and making a good deal of "Remmidemmi," which translates to "ruckus" or "racket." The word is believed to have late 19th- or early 20th-century origins and is of debatable etymology, though it may be distantly related to the name of the Muslim fasting month Ramadan, which concludes in festive celebration.

Strap on your time machine and head back to Germany, 2005. The country's first female chancellor took office, but a very unappetizing scandal was also in the headlines. So-called Gammelfleisch was being sold in supermarkets. Fleisch means "meat," and gammeln means "to bum around" or "to spoil," so it's easy to guess what the scandal involved. Some grocery stores were reselling old meat after sticking a new label on it. The offenders did get caught, so fortunately that's all in the past. But Gammelfleisch is still with us in another way. Young people picked it up as a word to refer to the over 30 set. So if you hear whispers about Gammelfleisch at the store these days, just hope they're talking about the meat and not about you!

The 2006 World Cup aside, the sport of soccer receives an extra special place of honor in Germany. It's no wonder, then, that the German language contains unique vocabulary to define the minute details of the game. What Germans can capture in one word -- Anschlusstreffer -- English-speakers need a whole sentence for: the goal in a soccer game that brings the score to a difference of one point, for example 2:1 or 3:4.

Somehow, supermarket chains know exactly what kids want: candy that changes the color of your mouth, plastic toys that break after one use, comic books with no real plot. And, cleverly, they put it right under kids' noses at the moment when they are most bored and cannot be pulled away by their parents. If you have children, you probably dread the checkout line at the supermarket. "Quengeln" means to moan, whimper, or just generally be really annoying in a nerve-racking and persistent way. And "Ware" means goods of any kind. So "Quengelware" is the toy the child throws a tantrum for because he'll never be happy again if he doesn't get it right this minute. And who wants to drag around a crying child in public? It's so much easier to just buy the darn thing.

While there are no statistics on the number of Hamburg cops named Peter, officers' cars have long been known as "Peterwagen" because of one impatient British soldier. While under British administration in 1946, Hamburg's police force was to be equipped with new radio patrol cars. A German clerk tried to explain the situation to the British officer responsible for approving the vehicles: "Patrol cars, sir!" But the heavy Hamburg accent made the word incomprehensible to the Brit and he asked the clerk to spell it. "P, like Peter...," began the German. After the first letter, the officer had heard enough and quickly said, "Oh, I know, Peterwagen!" And ever since, Hamburg patrol cars have been known as Peterwagen.

They're creepy, cunning and up to no good. When you run into one, it's sure to send a shiver down your spine: a Spinnefeind. But it doesn't mean spider, even though that's the root of this unfortunate word. A Spinnefeind (literally "spider-fiend") is someone you cannot stand, an absolute enemy. With their tricky ways and toxic bite, it's easy to see why spiders are associated with mortal enemies. But before you get too worked up, remember that spiders have their share of enemies too - and some of them even carry bug spray!

Getting a "blue letter" is a nightmare for parents and school children in Germany because it bears bad news. Schools send them out when a student's grades are so low that he or she is in danger of having to repeat a class. While the school's warning isn't blue at all but looks like any other piece of mail, the name "blue letter" goes back to the 18th century, when Prussian officers would be handed their discharge papers in a blue envelope. In those days, paper was often made - boiled, in fact - out of old clothing, and the Prussian army's uniforms were blue.

In English, if you're chipper and cheerful in the earliest hours of the day, you're a morning person. But we don't exactly have a term for those who are grumpy and cross between the buzz of the alarm clock and the first cup of coffee. But the Germans do: "Morgenmuffel." In extreme cases, it's impossible to even carry on a conversation with a "Morgenmuffel" until the sun is high in the sky - or at least prior to the obligatory caffeine charge. But, to be fair, the advantage "Morgenmuffels" have is that they're often still hard at work when the early birds have long since called it a night.

Instructions for a fun party game: Buy a carton of eggs; spread the raw eggs out of the floor with some distance between each one; blindfold your guests and turn up the music. Those who can dance without crushing an egg are the winners of the "Eiertanz" (literally, "egg dance"). The losers get to clean up the mess. This game was actually played in the Middle Ages, which is where the expression "Eiertanz" came from. These days, however, it's more often used to refer to the awkward effort of trying to avoid speaking about a delicate subject - which can be just as challenging as steering clear of raw eggs while dancing blindfolded. In the end, both a broken egg and an uncomfortable topic have the same result: The guests get upset and the host has to clean up the mess.

Growing up, you're bound to run into one at some point - or maybe you were even one yourself! He's always courteous, never gets in trouble and has nothing but a row of top grades on his report card: a Musterknabe, literally "model lad." The term is a favorite for teacher's pets and even dotted a popular German handbook for boys after World War II. But these days, it's taken on a broader meaning. An organization or even a country may be called a Musterknabe, but beware of those that refer to themselves that way. After all, a Musterknabe never brags.

English speakers know a "Klassenkasper" as a "class clown," and surely anyone who's gone to school knows what that is. He or she is that sunny pupil who can't stop cracking jokes or goofing off. While endearing to many, go a little deeper and any psychologist will tell you that a class comedian really can't stop acting up to get attention - it's engrained in their personalities. So rather than come down hard on the cut-ups, many educators advise to just "go with your gut" and give them a good guffaw. After all, a good laugh never hurt anybody.

Who does "hip gold" make you think of? Perhaps Heidi Klum, Claudia Schiffer, and Gisela Buendchen -- after all, their hips are worth far more than their quite minimal weight in gold. Actually, though, "Hueftgold" is a friendly way of referring to the extra kilos most non-models carry on their hips -- thanks to the foods that Heidi and Co. have to stay away from if they want to keep their high-paying jobs: yummy treats like ice cream, pizza, and chips are pure "Hueftgold." We're assuming that Heidi just licked the French fry and didn't swallow it.

Ok, admit it, have you ever hung around outside the gates at a hot concert you didn't have tickets for. After all, at an open-air event, the sound doesn't stop at the fence. If you have, that would make you a "Zaungast" (or "fence guest"). The word, however, can also be used to refer to onlookers who aren't in the way, but don't actively participate either. On a more serious note, the media, for example, has called the developing world a "Zaungast" to global politics, quietly observing but lacking influence.

You've probably never thought of mushrooms as being particularly warm. However, if you're sitting outside at your favorite cafe at this time of year, then you're best off sitting as close as possible to one -- to a Heizpilz (heating mushroom) that is.

"Augenstern" (eye's star) is a lovely, poetic way to call someone the "apple of your eye." Be careful, though, because the similar word "Augenapfel" (eye's apple) actually means "eye ball," and calling someone your eye ball isn't likely to make them swoon.

In English, if you love someone very much, then you might say they're the 'apple of your eye.' They are bright, shiny and very special - like a delicious apple that you want to take a bite out of. But if you took a bite out of an Augapfel, or eye-apple, it might be slimy or rubbery; in any case, it would be hard to digest. That's because Augapfel is the German word for 'eyeball' - great to use for looking at your loved-ones, but definitely not delicious.

What would you expect a bottle that bears the word "Peeling" to contain? A soothing gel for sunburned skin perhaps? Not in Germany. In fact, it is something that intends to make your skin lose a layer, rather than cure it. It's an exfoliating scrub. And although taken from English, the word "Peeling" does not conjure up images of a gentle yet effective exfoliating lotion in an English-speaker's mind. It sounds more like something you probably wouldn't want to experience in your own bathtub. Interestingly, Germans also call those harsh dermabrasion treatments at a beauty clinic "Peelings."

"Do you want vanilla, chocolate or strawberry?" -- "I don't like ice cream." While it's pretty hard to believe that someone doesn't like the taste of ice cream, it's also the end of the conversation for rhetorical reasons -- there's nothing left to say. In German, that's called a "Totschlag-Argument" (literally, "manslaughter argument") because it kills the discussion. Not to mention that -- depending on the temperature outside -- opting for no ice cream could also have precarious health consequences.

In many countries, "A" is the best grade you can get in school, but German students are happiest when they score a "1" on an exam. So "Eins-A" - or, "1-A" - is actually an exaggeratingly redundant expression of excellence. The term isn't reserved for school, though. Maybe last night's amazing concert was "Eins-A," or your first-rate dinner at a new restaurant.

Pippi Longstocking is the ultimate Goere: a cheeky, naughty girl, a rascal and often a brat. Goere is pronounced almost like "girl" in English. The word probably comes from the Middle High German word "gorec," meaning small or lowly. The plural, Goeren, doesn't refer to girls only, but is a general term for younger kids.

The word "Hamsterkauf" appears frequently in the German media these days. It implies hording food - just like a hamster does in its cheeks - and describes the phenomenon of people buying out groceries in stores en masse. Unfortunately, the current crisis in Japan has fed the fears of food shortages, prompting Hamsterkäufe (literally, hamster purchases) in the country.

When a secretary starts writing personal notes in shorthand, a lawyer cross-examines her friends or an army officer salutes his wife, English speakers might say, "It goes with the job." Germans, on the other hand, would quip that they've come down with a "Berufskrankheit," or "career illness." Are you a journalist who asks too many questions at the dinner table or a psychologist who can't keep from analyzing the people around you? Click below to send us an e-mail and tell us about your "Berufskrankheit."

"Schaulustiger" is a combination of "Schau" -- from "schauen," to look -- and a form of "Lust" -- a word which indicates a want, an inclination or a desire (but not necessarily the erotic kind). Taken together, one might think it describes someone who likes to look at things, but it really just means the person is watching. It can be translated as onlooker, watcher, or if it refers to people in traffic slowing down to look at an accident and causing a huge jam behind them, a rubbernecker.

What present would make you feel extra special, even favored? A diamond ring, a trip to the sauna, a dinner out? In German, you indicate that someone is getting special treatment by saying they've been given the extra sausage ("Extrawurst"). Granted, the expression likely comes from times when the last slice of salami meant you didn't have to go to bed hungry again -- if there even was any meat on the table. But, come on, I'd rather have the diamond ring.

With the exception of Heidi Klum and a few others, most people are more photogenic from one side or the other. In German, that's their "chocolate side" ("Schokoladenseite"). Before you get ready to bite into one of Heidi's many chocolate sides, keep in mind it's just a figure of speech. But regardless of one's looks or photogenic qualities, we all have a few character flaws that we try to cover up with a bit of "chocolate" when we're out in public.

"Schampus" is probably not what you think it is. Despite its very similar-sounding name, it is not intended for your hair. Instead, it's a colloquial word for "champagne" -- which, come to think of it, is occasionally used on hair. As everyone knows, champagne is most often not really champagne, it can also refer to other types of sparkling wine. In addition to being less expensive, these celebratory beverages from locations other than France's Champagne region are not known for providing shine and volume.

The ongoing global economic crisis has caused more than a few tight-wads to become "Pfennigfuchser" (literally "penny foxes"). In English, we might translate the term with "penny-pincher" or "cheapskate" - and calling someone a "Pfennigfuchser" isn't any kinder. But if being one helps you outfox the current crisis, then don’t worry about holding on to those coins.

In medieval times, members of particular craft guilds were identified by rings in their ears. When someone fell out of favor with the guild, he wasn't just kicked out of the club, his earring was ripped from his ear. He was then left stigmatized with a telling scar. Nowadays, a "Schlitzohr," which literally translates to "slit ear," doesn't quite carry the same stigma. Rather, it can be used to describe just about any sly rogue or rascal, whether you'd expel them from your group or not.

Some people may be wondering what happened to typical German virtues like endurance, sense of duty and reliability? At least in political life, they're hard to come by. Instead, a number of Germany's politicians are "out of office" - for good. "Amtsmuedigkeit" - growing tired of your duties - seems to be a new trend, considering all the resignations that have been submitted in the last few weeks and months: most recently, Hamburg's State Premier Ole von Beust. Former German President Horst Koehler and former Defense Minister Franz-Josef Jung also recently threw in the towel. And "Amtsmuedigkeit" seems to be contagious, spreading beyond the political sphere. Theo Zwanziger (pictured), president of the German Football Association, is apparently also considering checking out.

"Muckibude," literally "muscle shack," is a slang expression for a fitness center. Depending on the gym, the term can refer to the buff guys who hang around showing off what they think they've got or fellows like this one who actually make good use of the muscle shack.

If you look up the word "Kumpel" in a German-English dictionary, you'll likely get the American translation "buddy" or the British one, "mate." Sounds simple so far, doesn't it? But why keep it simple when you can make it complicated? Never underestimate the power of German accuracy when it comes to defining their social surroundings. Not everyone gets the privilege of being a "Kumpel." If you're a Bekannter, you're most certainly far away from that status. As a Bekannter or "acquaintance," you may be treated in a friendly manner, but you won't necessarily be invited over for a cup of coffee. Germans like to distance themselves from the notion that everyone's a friend. So in a conversation, you will often hear the words "Oh, no, no...he's not a friend, he's just a Bekannter." However, as a "Kumpel," you are not just a friend, but a very special one. You could define it as a relaxed and very open friendship that has lasted for quite some time. "Kumpels" never ever let each other down. So the guy from work will probably not be your "Kumpel," even if you like him a lot. Man's best friend - a dog - is most definitely a "Kumpel." As promised, the word "Kumpel" is explained simply, but it's rather difficult to use. And be careful! You could just mix it up with a coal miner, who is also called a "Kumpel."

BOOM! A big cannon shoots a clown right through the circus tent. He lands, pops up with a grin and starts telling jokes. The crowd laughs and cheers - after all, clowns are there to drum up a good mood. "Stimmung" is a German word for mood, and a Stimmungskanone (literally: mood cannon) is someone who always creates the right party atmosphere. A clown fires off his jokes and tricks one after the other, not unlike a great party guest. Just be careful about becoming the target of a punchline, or you may end up the one who looks like a clown!

If your future were a song, who would sing it? Robbie Williams or Anna Netrebko? (Careful: The question was who would SING your future, not who would be in it.) Or perhaps you've never thought of your future in musical terms. In Germany, however -- the birthplace of Beethoven, Brahms and Tokio Hotel -- the term "Zukunftsmusik" (future music) is used to refer to someone's hopes and dreams. Doesn't thinking about landing that promotion, finding the love of your life or taking a trip around the world make you want to get up and sing?

Quite a nice word, this. Sympathie is not hard to figure out; it means "sympathy." Träger means a person or thing that carries or holds something. Literally, a Sympathieträger is then a person who carries sympathy. What it really is, though, is someone who's an ambassador for something. Smeone who, by way of their charisma and appearance, wins over affection. These are people who become the "face" for a cause or movement, but they're also found in advertising. Kids are perfect Sympathieträger, but cute animals like puppies or kittens or even teddy bears will do the job, too. One thing's for sure: Sympathieträger always have tons of Facebook "Friends" and chalk up countless "Likes."

In the US, it's not uncommon to get a degree in biology and go on to become a store manager, or to study business and later become an artist. In Germany, however, qualifications and certifications are more important and career paths are somewhat less flexible. That may be why Germans have a word for people who studied one thing and then got a job in something else: "Quereinsteiger," roughly translated as "someone who boards diagonally." Germany's former foreign minister, Joschka Fischer, who didn't get a university degree, and body-builder-turned-actor-turned-governor Arnold Schwarzenegger are examples of prominent "Quereinsteiger."

Remember when you were a teenager and came home past your curfew to find your parents sitting on the couch in the living room, waiting up for you? You were hoping to just sneak in and slip into bed, but then you got an earful. They scolded you for hours, trying to convince you they know what's better for you. That's what Germans call "Gardinenpredigt" - literally, curtain sermon. In the Middle Ages, curtains weren't just hung over the front windows, but also on the sides of the bed. When a husband came home too late, his wife could give him a piece of her mind through the bed curtains. Even though draped beds may be passé, you can still give a Gardinenpredigt when you feel like nagging someone.

Having a pet around the house is a wonderful thing. Sitting in front of the fire with a purring cat upon your lap, having a loyal dog guarding the house and family, or watching a goldfish swim around its bowl for hours on end. Having a Hausdrache (lit: house dragon) in the household is quite a different matter! A Drache is a mythical beast which spits fire, battles knights in shining armour, and steals beautiful princesses. A Hausdrache is equally unpleasant and describes a domineering housewife. "Take your shoes off, I just cleaned the floor," "don’t talk with your mouth full," "go and tidy your room," she shouts angrily. But perhaps inside every Hausdrache there is a beautiful princess just waiting to be rescued from cleaning and cooking?

The German language certainly has a history with the "über" in its vocabulary - with some positive concepts of the word in combination with others having gone awry, like Nietzsche's philosophical idea of the "Übermensch" - or prime example of a human being - being used for Nazi propaganda. Then there's "Deutschland, Deutschland über alles" - the opening words from the "Deutschlandlied," composed by Joseph Haydn, which has been used wholly or in part as Germany's national anthem since 1922. But then, there are the much more pleasant "über" words, like "überglücklich." Überglücklich means really, really, really happy - or beyond happiness!

"Amtsschimmel" is a somewhat outdated, yet rather graphic word for "red tape." Literally, it means "office mold," which in many cases seems to hit the nail right on the head. After sitting on 10 or 20 desks for weeks, awaiting just as many signatures, that form you've been waiting weeks for is bound to get a bit musty. It looks likes it might be too late to rescue this poor employee from his office's aggressive bureaucratic mold.

A "lumbering (trampeln) animal (Tier)" sounds like it could refer to just about any large mammal on Earth. Elephants, for example, do quite a lot of lumbering and trampling, as do hippopotami. In German, however, "Trampeltier" uniquely refers to the two-humped or so-called Bactrian camel. Luna, the pictured "Trampeltier," is doing honor to her species' name by showing off her gallop at a race in Magdeburg, Germany. Her one-humped cousins are merely called "Kamele."

Parents gone for the weekend? Roommates out of town? Great! It's time to throw a party and make a mess with no worries about getting caught. And German has just the expression for this lucky state of affairs: sturmfreie Bude. A "Bude" is a place or hangout, and "sturmfrei" (literally, storm-free) refers to the fact that no one is going to come storming in unexpectedly and break up the fun - at least, that's what one hopes anyway. But then again, if teen movies or sitcoms are anything to go by, you probably know that nothing stays "sturmfrei" for long. The parents are sure to show up just when things are getting fun.

Do you ever feel like you're stuck in a rut -- the same routine, day in and day out? Germans have a solution that doesn't even require leaving the room: Just change the wallpaper. A "Tapetenwechsel" (literally, change of wallpaper) may not sound quite as adventurous as its English equivalent (change of scenery), but the meaning is just the same.

Every winter, large numbers of "Skihasen" - literally, "ski bunnies" - flock to the mountains. Ski bunnies tend to be female, outgoing and attractive, and all of them are out to find a mate during those short snowy months. They are mainly active at night, while during the daytime, ski bunnies tend to lounge in the sun, grooming themselves. But, you've guessed it: a Skihase is not really a bunny at all! It is a woman who doesn't go to a ski resort just to zoom down the slopes, but mainly in order to socialize, party and meet "Mr. Right."

Admittedly, it takes a lot of effort to drill all the way through a really thick board. But life isn't just made up of thin boards waiting to be taken care of in a snap before enjoying a cold beer or taking a nap -- even if some people seem to think so. Those people, the so-called "Duennbrettbohrer" (literally, thin-board drillers), are the ones who like to cut corners and take the easy road instead of investing a lot of energy. But in the end they're just left with a pile of sawdust in their lap.

German is a very descriptive language, which can be helpful when learning it. The word for "airplane," for example, quite literally means "a thing that flies." Warning: unfortunately the construction "a thing that &#91;add function&#93;" does not apply to all objects.

They have all the right answers and don't hesitate to share them, regardless of whether the timing is right: know-it-alls. No one likes a Besserwisser (literally, "better knower") because everyone thinks they know better.

Whereas we English speakers might describe a friend's new, fancy apartment as having "bells and whistles," or "all the trimmings," Germans would say it was a place "mit allem Pipapo" (with all the Pipapo). That is, the apartment has lots of extra features that make it all the more attractive.

What would you expect to be included on the "gentlemen's menu," or "Herrengedeck?" Perhaps a filet mignon, barbequed ribs or at least a good hamburger with all the trimmings? In Germany, however, the so-called Herrengedeck doesn't have anything to do with meat, but it's not for weak stomachs. If you order the gentlemen's menu, you'll get beer and schnapps. The exact type of potent beverages you receive depends on the region you're in. Of course, you could simply order a beer and schnapps to begin with, but Herrengedeck sounds a bit classier, particularly when the craving hits at 10:00 am.

"Nabelschau," or "looking at navels," doesn't mean catching a glimpse of exposed bellies at the beach -- it means staring too long at your own. The term, which today refers to exaggerated introspection or self-centeredness, was originally used to describe the mediation practices of a group of medieval monks.

"Du alte Schnarchnase" - you old snoring nose! What a descriptive expression for a sleepy-head, a slowpoke, a dope. "Schnarchnase" can be a fond term for a sleepy pet, or even a loudly snoring spouse, but it also describes someone who has messed up a task. It may have been well-intentioned, but the "Schnarchnase" got it wrong all the same.

At first glance, the old German term for receding hair -- "Geheimratsecken" -- looks rather ridiculous, since it bears uncanny similarity to the German words meaning "secret rat's corners." Actually, the word has a much different meaning dating back several hundred years. "Rat" in this case does not come from "Ratte" (rat) but refers to the "Geheimer Rat," an old German administrative council that advised the ruler and was likely made up of old men with long foreheads. "Geheimratsecken," therefore, started out as a designation for the balding heads of aging politicians, but nows refer to any man's thinning pate.

Take yourself back to 1997. Were you sitting behind the wheel of a luxury car, hugging some tight turns on Swedish roads? No? Well, be glad you weren't, because you might have fallen victim to the Elchtest. Literally, it means "elk test" (although Americans would call it a "moose test") and refers to a car's ability to handle the driver's reaction following the appearance of a sudden obstacle, like an elk in the road. After the Mercedes A-Class famously tipped over during an Elchtest in Sweden in 1997, the word has become more popular in Germany. These days, though, the meaning goes well beyond just refering to cars and moose - just about anything can be put to an Elchtest. So keep your eyes peeled and be ready - we'd hate to see you tip over!

Imagine making art, not with paint or clay, but with life itself as your medium. A "life artist," or "Lebenskuenstler" as the Germans would say, is someone who finds beauty in the colors life puts at their disposal, someone who makes do with the brushes they've got and doesn't pout over a few mistaken strokes. Have you been inspired by a true "Lebenskuenstler"? Click on the link below to e-mail and tell us how that person inspired you.

Try to image your toilet wearing glasses. No really, we're serious. In Germany, they do. Well, at least half a pair -- the German word for toilet seat (Klobrille) literally means "toilet glasses." Try not to think of that the next time nature calls.

The "summer hole" ("Sommerloch") is something that affects us here at DW-WORLD.DE/English quite personally. In fact, we have to deal with it every day from mid-July to about mid-August. It may sound like it could be where your kids' spelling abilities go when they're out of school. Or perhaps the place your money runs off to when you take your mid-year vacation. In Germany "Sommerloch" has more to do with politics. In the summer, all of Germany's parliamentarians go on vacation. And here, a week hardly counts as a vacation -- no sir, vacation doesn't actually start until the third or fourth week. While basking in the Mallorcan sun or sipping espresso in Florence, Germany's lawmakers (not to mention managers, CEOs, celebrities and even criminals) are somewhat less inclined to pass legislation and make official state visits or public appearances. In short, they don't make the news and we're stuck with nothing to write about. While we may complain, the "Sommerloch" does have some beneficiaries: The little fish. By default, the "summer hole period" is the perfect opportunity for winter no-names to give interviews and make headlines. Likewise, some tabloid publications, which we refrain from naming here, also make the most of summer by letting their imaginations run a bit wild, or at least lending a tad too much relevance to, well, non-news. In 1993, for example, "Bild Zeitung" famously cited conservative politicians Dionys Jobst as having suggested Germany buy the Spanish island of Mallorca and declare it the 17th state. Just last year, all of the media went crazy over Bruno, a brown bear that had entered Germany via the Austrian border and, after weeks on the run, was finally shot and killed by Finnish bear hunters. As endearing as he may have been, poor Bruno may not have made front page news if his illegal entry had occurred in, say, October.

For some people, the street light is always green. They find money on the sidewalk on a regular basis. The shoes they want to buy are always available in their size. And the ketchup on their hamburger never drips onto their white shirt. In Germany, those are the lucky mushrooms - or "Glueckspilze." It may not sound that flattering, but if you are the one with the never-ending streak of luck, you won't mind one bit.

Apart from being a particularly intimidating word for non-German eyes, "Bezirkschornsteinfegermeister" is a professional title familiar to every homeowner and tenant in Germany. All German residences are required by law to get a yearly visit from the "district chimneysweep master," who runs safety checks on fireplaces, gas lines and heating units. Chimneysweeps have deeply embedded themselves in German culture and law - not only because Germans have strong notions about safety and cleanliness, but also because chimneysweeps have long been believed to carry good luck. Soot-covered men with top hats and ladders are a common image on New Year's cards in Germany, and touching a chimneysweep once a year is said to bring good fortune - and prevent incidents of fatal gas poisoning.

The Goethe Institute -- a government-sponsored promoter of the German language and culture abroad -- announced on Friday, April 25, that this year's prize for the best linguistic import goes to "Tollpatsch." This word, which could loosely be translated as "clumsy fool" in English, stems from a 17th-century Hungarian nickname for a foot soldier. The word beat other illustrious contenders such as "currywurst" (a mixture of German wurst and Tamil curry) and Engel (angel, which comes from Greek). "This word has traveled many kilometers and overcome borders…it walked its shoe-leader off on the long way from Hungary to Germany," said Berlin resident Barbara Eulberg, who entered the word in the competition. "We laugh over newcomers, but integrate the migrants so fast and successfully that we have completely forgotten its migrant background."

It's amazing who you can meet (and how close you can end up getting) when you take a walk on the boardwalk - especially if you're a dog. While breeds are sometimes intentionally crossed (like Labradors with Poodles to get the non-shedding well-mannered Labradoodles), the result of a "Promenadenmischung" (literally, "boardwalk mix") is more random. Depending on which breeds happen to be on the boardwalk on any given day, these pups may turn out looking fairly unusual. But they're known for being smarter and cheekier than their in- um, purebred cousins.

There are many ways to express mediocrity in the German language, perhaps the most colorful of which is the term "08/15." Its origins can be traced to a German machine gun introduced during the First World War. The gun was standard issue and part of the repetitive drills the soldiers had to do. Thus, the 08/15 machine gun became a synonym for daily routine, for nothing special or out of the ordinary. The trusty and reliable 08/15 also served in the Second World War, but by that time it had been outclassed by newer models. The term gained notoriety in the 1950s after author Hans Hellmut Kirst published three popular novels using it in the titles.

Everybody runs across those situations that demand a bit too much - whether it's a test you didn't study for, your first marathon, or being thrown into the deep end when you're learning to swim. Language may fail you in those moments, but fortunately German has a word for them: Feuertaufe (literally, fire baptism). The English equivalent - trial or baptism by fire - is similar enough, but now when you're in the heat of the moment in Germany, you won't be at a loss for words.

If you're not a VIP, but you venture into the classiest restaurant in town without a tux and Rolex on -- where will you be seated? Likely with the kids and pets -- at what in German is known as the cats' table ("Katzentisch"). You may find yourself hidden away in some faraway corner, or right by the drafty entrance or, even worse, the bathrooms! Originally, of course, cats' tables weren't meant for people at all. Many centuries ago, a cats' table was a miniature table with short legs where the cats and sometimes small dogs in wealthy households were fed. Cats' tables were common at French courts, for instance, where they were set up away from the main dining tables, but in the same room. After all, royalty didn't want to be too far away from dear Fluffy, Max or Garfield.

Depending on the situation, some might call it a squint while others may interpret it as "bedroom eyes." In German, however, a narrowed sideways glance can be referred to as a "Silberblick," or "silver glance." The term originates from the metallurgy field and indicates the moment in the silver-refining process when the last bit of lead has been removed from the surface of the molten alloy and nearly pure silver peaks out from underneath. The "Silberblick" is considered attractive, especially on women, and it was customary in late-Renaissance portrait art to paint eyes so that they weren't focused straight ahead, but down and to the side. That explains, for example, why observers get the feeling Mona Lisa is looking at them.

Spitting may not be a nice thing to, but a vocal imitation of this act is the German way of wishing good luck. It is said that the phrase "toi, toi, toi" derived from the old tradition of spitting over your shoulder three times to ward off the devil or other bad spirits. It might sound funny, but spitting on someone could actually be considered kinder than the English tradition of telling them to break a leg.

You probably wouldn't be particularly flattered if someone called you a rat. However, if you are called a "Wasserratte" - or, water rat - that's not so bad. It simply means that you love to swim and could spend all day in the pool. The summer heat wave may be turning a lot of people into "Wasserratten," but Michael Wleklinski, pictured here, is a true "Wasserratte." He is a member of the Berlin Seals Club and takes a dip in ice cold waters on New Years Day.

An "Ampelmännchen" is, literally translated, the little man of the pedestrian traffic light. But if you're thinking of thin stick-figures whose heads are not attached to their bodies, you've got the wrong idea. In fact, the "Ampelmännchen" is steeped in history -- he originated in former East German history, where the traffic lights looked different than in the West. After the reunification of Germany, these little men where supposed to be replaced by their thin cousins, widespread in the West, but that raised a lot of protest among former East Germans and there were finally allowed to keep their beloved "Ampelmännchen." Nowadays, he is an icon in Berlin and tourists can pick up t-shirts, pens, postcards and anything else you can think of with the little guy's picture on it.

"Kadavergehorsam," literally "cadaver obedience," means abandoning one's own personality in blind, submissive obedience ("gehorsam"). It's usually used to refer to Prussian militarism in the Wilheminian era, covering the reign of William II, who became German emperor in 1888, to the end of the First World War in 1918.

Admittedly, the English term "steamroller tactics" sounds slightly more threatening than its German counterpart "Holzhammermethode" (literally, "mallet method"). But you might change your mind if you were on the receiving end of the Holzhammermethode -- whether it's a teacher's impossible tests, a cut-throat work atmosphere, or a large country's foreign policy. Little Rover here doesn't seem worried though.

An "Arschkarte," or "ass card," is as bad as it sounds. If you were a soccer player it would mean game over -- at least for you. Back in the days before color television, fans at home couldn't distinguish between a yellow and a red card -- and there's a big difference between the two! That forced the referee to keep the two cards in different pockets. You guessed it: The red card was kept in the ref's back pocket, lending it the name "butt card." These days, "Arschkarte" can also be used to say someone's drawn the short straw, or gotten the bad end of a deal.

What do a dog and a platform trolley have in common? Practically nothing. Except, come to think of it, that they both have four "legs," of a sort. In German, however, canines are integral to the word for platform trolley: Moebelhund (literally, "furniture dog"). When it comes to transporting heavy items, some other four-legged pack animals would likely come to mind first -- horses, mules, camels, to name a few. But it is man's best friend who gets the honor. While perhaps not quite as effective as a mule, platform trolleys are definitely better than their German namesake at transporting couches and other bulky items. And they also rarely maul favorite shoes, sweaters or socks. Really, dogs should stick to the best friend business and leave furniture moving to the mules and platform trolleys.

Have you ever had a song stuck in your head? Catchy tunes have a way of sticking around and leeching your attention until you just can't think anymore -- kind of like tape worms. Did I say worms? Indeed, Germans have a fitting if somewhat disgusting word for catching melodies and jingles: "Ohrwurm," or "ear worm."

You can buy and eat one at the fair or the Christmas market -- a rocking-horse-shaped gingerbread cookie (Honigkuchenpferd). But they're most often used to describe precisely what real rocking-horses generally don't have, but what is usually frosted on the edible variety -- a big smile. However, if you like frosted gingerbread cookies, you're likely to smile like a "Honigkuchenpferd" when you eat one.

What do a stock market speculator and a "Spekulatius" have in common? Absolutely nothing, apart from the possibility that the former might eat the latter. Though its name may sound fancy, a "Spekulatius" is nothing more than a humble cookie, traditionally eaten around Christmastime in Germany, the Netherlands and Belgium. The word is thought to derive from the Latin term for a bishop - "speculator," which means "overseer" and refers specifically to St Nicholas who is celebrated on December 6. It could also come from "speculum," Latin for "mirror," referring to the carving of mirror-image bas-reliefs into wooden stamps which were traditionally used to decorate the biscuits. But whatever the origins may be, you can safely speculate that a box of "Spekulatius" - which generally contain cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, ginger, cardamom and white pepper - will make for a tasty treat on a cold winter evening.

A person driving on the wrong side of the road in Germany is literally called a "ghost driver." Of course, driving against the flow of traffic is a sure ticket to becoming a ghost. And seeing headlights coming straight at you is enough to scare anyone out of their skin.

Cologne revelers really get to the nitty-gritty when it comes to Carnival's three most important accoutrements: "Bloodwoosch, Kölsch un e lecker Mädsche." Put together in a song in the city's dialect, that means blood sausage (black pudding), a Kölsch (a Cologne-brewed beer) and a pretty girl. "Girl," though, is relative - young or old, as long as she's got a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye, she'll do. Oh, yeah - and don't forget the beer in one hand and blood sausage in the other. You've got all those, and you're set for six straight days of Mardi Gras partying on the streets and in the pubs. Carnival may be celebrated throughout the Rhineland area, and as "Fasching" in the South, but Cologne residents are convinced their home is where all the action is!

Christmas is such a big holiday in Germany that it can be tough to keep all of the traditions straight. That's true when it comes to gift giving - and there are three different figures to keep in mind: the Christkind, St. Nicholas and Santa Claus. Of course, Santa Claus isn't traditionally a part of the German Christmas, but these days you can expect to see pictures and figurines of Santa everywhere. The kids don't expect presents from him on Christmas, though; that's left to the Christkind, who is often depicted as an angelic young woman with curly blond hair. But she's not the only one who slips in to bring kids gifts. On December 6 - the holiday celebrating St. Nicholas - tradition has it that he also brings treats and presents for well-behaved young ones. It sounds like there are plenty of gifts to go around!

There are many different paths to success in life and, in German, those people who prefer more aggressive techniques can be called "calf biters" ("Wadenbeisser"). These calves belong to the 2009 Miss Germany contestants and appear, at least from this angle, to be free of competition-related injuries. Regardless of how many non-contestants may be interested in tasting these well-tanned and toned calves, the true "calf biters" in this case would be the women themselves, who do whatever it may take to win the crown.

You spill ketchup on your new, white shirt; somehow your mobile phone manages to fall into the toilet; you run your stockings just before an important business meeting. Sound familiar? If misfortune never seems to pass you by, then in German you would be called a "Pechvogel" - a "tar bird." The term comes from the Middle Ages, when people used to smear tar, or pitch, on trees to catch birds. Being caught in a tree and landing on the barbeque? That may never have happened to Donald Duck, but he is one of the most famous "Pechvoegel" in the world.

The foreboding term "Super-GAU" has been dotting headlines in Germany since the earthquake hit Japan on March 11 and a tsunami and nuclear crisis ensued. Best translated as "worst case scenario," this expression borrows exclusively from languages other than German. GAU is an acronym translating the English expression "maximum credible accident," once used by nuclear specialists to describe the worst foreseeable hazard at a given nuclear plant. But as you can guess, a Super-GAU suggests more than just an accident: it's a disaster exceeding all expectations and back-up measures. The term doesn't just come up in reference to nuclear plants, though. Any disaster that spirals out of control may be called a Super-GAU. Hopefully, it's one we won't see again for a very long time.

Nitpicking and pedantic - in a nutshell, the attributes of an "Erbsenzaehler" (literally, pea counter). They are control freaks, obsessed with the smallest details. Some say the term goes back to Karl Baedeker, a 19th-century German publisher who set the standard for tourist guidebooks. One day in 1847, when visiting Milan Cathedral, Baedeker was observed dropping a pea at every 20 steps on the staircase, all the way to the top, so that he could accurately report the number of steps. The publisher's known penchant for tiny details prompted the line in Jacques Offenbach's operetta "La Vie Parisienne": "Kings and governments may err, but never Mr. Baedeker."

Vorglühen - it's a pretty guttural word for such a "bright" idea. Glühen is a verb meaning to glow or heat up, and vor is a prefix meaning before. But taken together, vorglühen is the term for having some drinks at home before going out - in English, we'd probably translate it with "pre-gaming." It's a good way to save some money - or maybe just your eardrums - before a night of clubbing. But try not to let the pre-party get too out of hand. Otherwise the bouncers may just have less than a glowing reception for you.

"Bleigießen" (literally, pouring lead) is an old New Year's tradition in parts of Europe. Pieces of lead are placed in a spoon and melted over a candle. Just as the metal becomes liquid it is poured into a bowl of cold water. The shape that is formed when the lead is formed is used to tell your fortune for the coming year. Does it resemble a heart? Love is in store for you this year. Or a pig? Prosperity is coming your way. And if it just looks like a blob of lead, well, we can't help you there. If you try your hand -- and your fortune -- at "bleigießen" this New Year's Eve, we'd recommend using tin or wax instead, since they are not poisonous and melt at a lower temperature than lead. Good luck!

It sounds like a sticky business. Literally in English, "Butterfahrten" are "butter trips" and evoke images of smoothly sailing across the Caribbean Sea into the sunset, but they're actually a lot less romantic. Originally, the "Butterfahrten" of the 1970's were organized boat trips into the duty-free waters of the North and Baltic Sea, where Germans could buy products like butter, but also tobacco, spirits and perfume, more cheaply than at home. They were later often combined with leisure activities to make them more fun. European Union laws have meanwhile restricted such maritime shopping sprees. But the butter trip's cousin, the Kaffeefahrt, or "coffee trip," is still quite popular. Pensioners with time on their hands, like those pictured, are often lured into these little journeys with offers of free coffee and cake. Organizers then pressure them into buying everything under the sun.

A comfortable sofa on a quiet evening, a mat at the lake, or a train where you have plenty of time to get lost in a book after a long day's work - that is the essence of "schmoekern." A well-stocked bookstore is also a great place to "schmoekern" and to take your mind of your troubles for a while. Leaf through novels, self-help books, romance novels or comics to your heart's content - or at least until the staff threatens to kick you out unless you buy something.

Your co-worker is confidently giving a presentation to a large audience, but his fly is wide open. He has no idea how embarrassed he should be at that moment - but you do, and you feel it for him. While others may just laugh and point, Germans actually have a word for the phenomenon of blushing on behalf of another: "Fremdschaemen," a combination of "foreign" and "to be ashamed."

While in English that bratty little neighbor kid just gets on your nerves, in German he saws right through them. Anything that's really annoying can be called a "Nervensaege" (literally, "nerve saw"). Come to think of it, chain saws can be pretty annoying themselves, especially if the bratty neighbor kid's father is using one to trim the hedge at 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning.

A "Wichtel" is a fantasy creature that usually does good deeds, but also tends to pull hoaxes. They often make appearances in children's books. In modern day fantasy literature, they tend to be evil spirits, though the notion of friendly little gnomes is retained in a Christmas-time activity called "wichteln." When a gift exchange is done secretly, with the participants drawing names out of bag, the identity of the gift-giver - who could just as well be a "Wichtel" - remains a mystery. The giver's mortal identity is revealed on Christmas day, if no one spills the beans beforehand. That doesn't preclude the possibility, however, that "Wichtel" could have been involved. After all, Santa Claus has dwarves to help with present preparation. With any luck, the person who had drawn the recipient's name employed a nice old-fashioned "Wichtel" with good taste.

In English, a chatter box is someone who can't keep their mouth shut and doesn't necessarily have anything interesting to say. The German word Quasselbude could also be translated as chatter box -- or jabber joint -- however it's not a person but a place where people gab. Judging from these three gentlemen, it appears that the ladies' restroom isn't the only place to catch up on the latest juicy gossip.

A "nail test" (Nagelprobe) sounds like it should involve a hammer and result in something getting broken. However, nail refers here to the physiological kind, which is German is also called "Nagel." It is said that the ever-so-popular expression refers to an old drinking tradition: After a toast, the merrymakers would turn the empty glass over onto their thumb. A dry thumbnail was proof that every drop had been drunk -- the theoretical goal. A moist thumbnail naturally meant try, try again! Though you'll rarely see Germans with glasses on their thumbs in pubs today, the term "Nagelprobe" is in common use -- frequently in the realm of politics -- and refers to a particularly challenging trial. As for Bavaria's former Premier Guenther Beckstein (pictured), he'll have to drink up if he wants to pass the old-fashioned "Nagelprobe." But considering that he lost his job earlier this year when he party, the CSU, failed to get an absolute majority, it seems he couldn't exactly pass the contemporary "Nagelprobe."

Actually, it's erroneous that the raccoon is called a "Waschbär" (literally a "wash bear") in German, but the name has stuck. First of all, the only comparison to a real bear is that both animals are furry and four-legged. (If bears could read German, they might be a little bit offended, don't you think?) Raccoons are sensory animals -- not visual -- and they touch their food all over to get a good idea of what it is before eating it. Since the furry creatures often do this in the water, it was mistakenly assumed that they were "washing" it, when in reality they were just giving it a feel. Besides, if they washed everything they pulled out of your garbage can last night at 3 a.m., they would have been there all night.

No, it's not something from the Muppet Show, even though it sounds like it. In German, "doppelt gemoppelt" is something that is tautologous, or repeated unnecessarily. It's like saying "two twins," "free gift," "dead corpse" or "safe haven." It can also meaning doing something with two different methods that end up cancelling each other out. They don't enhance each other, then, but detract. In this case, two heads are definitely not better than one!

"Schneckenpost" is a direct translation of the English term "snail mail," combining the German words Schnecke (snail) and Post (mail.). For those who may need their memory jogged, "snail mail" used to be called simply "mail." The standard version was called a "letter" and involved a pen or pencil, a sheet of paper, an envelope, and some stick-on currency known as a postage stamp. But with the advent of lightning-fast e-mail correspondence, regular mail got the distinguishing -- and belittling -- "snail" prefix. It may come as no surprise that the term "snail mail" originated in the US, where letters sometimes took as long as a week to reach their faraway recipients. A bit harder to understand is the term's popularity in Germany, where "Schneckenpost" usually arrives at its destination within 24 hours. That's one speedy snail.

At some point, we've probably all managed to get stuck with the seat in the movie theater that offers only a view of the back of someone's head. Unless, of course, you're that tall someone. But have you ever had the shock of discovering after the film that the giant view-blocker in front of you had short legs and wasn't really that tall after all? Germans actually have a word for people who look tall while they're seated -- "Sitzriese," roughly "seated giant." The short people of the world humbly call on all Sitzriesen (not to mention truly tall people) to please sit in the back of the movie theater.

Are you still in touch with that neighbor kid who used to come over and ask if you could play? Whether you played video games together, watched TV, goofed off -- or played in the sand box, the Germans would call him your "Sandkastenfreund," or sand box friend.

When it comes to doing work, they've always got a good excuse - whether it's a migraine or too much work, an unexpected guest at home or a flat tire. They're the "Drueckeberger." The word is a rare instance of the German language poking a bit of fun at itself, playing with the suffix "berger"- a common ending on German names. "Druecke-" comes from "sich druecken," which means to dodge responsibility or duck out of something. So when it comes to unrewarding tasks like taking out the trash or scooping the dog run, you can count on the "Drueckeberger" to come down with a cold.

Would you be flattered if someone called you a sugar snail? Yes? Then you must be from Germany, because Germans use "Zuckerschnecke" as a pet name like "honey" or "darling." Sometimes guys use the term flirtatiously when they want to hit on an attractive girl. If the girl isn't interested, the molluscan term could backfire.

Some may be inclined to let their imaginations wander when they hear the word "bauchpinseln," or "brush the belly." Do chocolate sauce or warm wax come to mind? Though "bauchpinseln" doesn't have anything to do with brushes or body parts that should generally be covered in public, it's not unrelated to foreplay in some cases. In German, to "brush someone's belly" means to pay a compliment, flatter, or butter them up.

It would be a "Verballhornung" to say that you are presently reading the "Wart of the Week." Substituting a similar sounding word for a humorous effect is generally called "Verballhornung" in German -- or malaproprism (or simply a pun) -- not that we find warts particularly comical afflictions, but you get the idea. The effect of "Verballhornung" is pictured to the left. The origin of the term, however, is not so humorous. It is attributed to 16th century printer Johann Ballhorn of Lübeck, who published a book of municipal law containing numerous mistakes that actually changed their meanings.

If Aunt Emma had a shop, what would she sell there? Shoes, toothpaste, canned soup, garden tools, magazines -- that is, everything but the kitchen sink. In reality there is no Aunt Emma, but in some German towns you may find a general store, which is what many Germans would call a <i>Tante-Emma-Laden</i>. Nowadays, however, they are often run by members of the country's Turkish community, prompting a group of German Turkish businesspeople to rename the stores "Uncle Mehmet shops."

If you don't think this word sounds German, you're right. In fact, it's not actually a word -- it's a combination of the first two letters of four words respectively, namely "vorne kurz, hinten lang." "Short in the front, long in the back" is an unambiguous reference to a particular 1980s fashion phenomenon that is better left unmentioned.

If you are a regular follower of Word of the Week, you will have noticed that German is a highly descriptive language. While English generally relies on Latin roots for its scientific and medical vocabulary, German is true to itself. The English word "gravity," for example, is derived from "gravitas" in Latin, meaning "heaviness." The Germans just stuck two very appropriate words together: "schwer" (heavy) and "Kraft" (power). But whatever you want to call it, somebody should tell this motorcycle driver that what goes up, must come down.

Do you ever find yourself feeling a bit lethargic in the spring months? Maybe it's due to your allergies, or just the mild weather. The Germans have even come up with a word for this very real, yet still scientifically unproven phenomenon: "Frühjahrsmüdigkeit," or simply "spring tiredness."

In English, it's a brainstorm that can lead to new ideas. It's similar in the German, although tweaked a bit. Germans say their inspiration can come like "Geistesblitze" -- literally, bolts of lightning in the mind.

We've all tried the limbo dance - bending backwards to walk under a horizontal pole that is lowered with each round - and most of us have likely landed on our rear ends. This week, the slang term "Niveaulimbo" - literally, "limbo of standards" - was named Germany's Youth Word of the Year by the Langenscheidt publishing house. Young people in Germany use the newly invented word to complain about the ever worsening quality of a TV programs, the atmosphere at a party that thins out before midnight, or a conversation that quickly hits the gutter when alcohol is involved and bad jokes spiral into even worse jokes.

The adolescent who devours all of the Harry Potter tomes and can't get enough; the old lady who can sit for hours in her favorite chair turning page after page; the boy who just has to finish the scary story about aliens taking over the earth even though it's well past his bed time, and the many commuters on buses, trams and trains who miss their stop because they are deep in the world of their paperback - in English, they're bookworms. In German, they're fondly known as "Leseratten," or reading rats. Although it may not seem particularly flattering to be called a rat - or a worm, for that matter - don't let that keep you from picking up a good book.

"We're mad as hell, and we're not going to take it anymore!" That's the message many Germans have had for everyone from the government to Deutsche Bahn this year. And the country's lexicographers have taken notice. The Association for the German Language named "Wutbuerger," which translates roughly to "citizen of anger," the 2010 Word of the Year. This year Wutbuerger in Germany have demonstrated most vocally against plans for a train station in Stuttgart and nuclear power.

It just sounds so very German, doesn't it? "Zwang" means compulsion, but it can also mean necessity or restraint, as in a "Zwangsjacke," or straight-jacket. A "Gemeinschaft" is a community or group. Jumble it together and "Zwangsgemeinschaft" can be anything in which you're thrown together with other people you didn't select: your workplace, school, the daycare center for your kids, your local homeowners' association. You may not like the group you've been forced into, but if you're smart, you'll learn a bit of something in the process - for better or worse!

It sounds pretty, but it isn't. Literally, Orangenhaut means "orange-peel skin." That conjures up images of a healthy, youthful glow - a peachy sheen on a pretty face so inviting you feel you could pluck flowers or fruit straight from it. Alas, reality is often more sobering than one's imagination. Orangenhaut really means "dimpled skin," as in an orange peel. We English-speakers have an even uglier word for it: cellulite! And it's known to hug the abdomen, thighs and bottoms of many a woman. So, since this is bikini season, better make sure your Orangenhaut stays safely tucked away from the glare of less generous onlookers. Try a tikini with skirt or a flashy beach shift instead. Or, be daring and flaunt that Orangenhaut. At least you'd have the poetic German word to back you up!

In the 19th century, pharmacies were jokingly called "juice shops," due to the rows of bottles and icky-tasting concoctions mixed by the pharmacist himself. The term "juice shops" was later used to describe stores that sold different kinds of less-medicinal (but not necessarily better tasting) liquids: Liquor stores. Since they didn't have a particularly good reputation, the phrase "juice shop" also took on a negative connotation. Nowadays, any disreputable business can be called a "Saftladen," regardless of whether or not it's a juice shop.

"Dingsbums" - now, what could that be? Well, that's just the problem - we can't tell you either! Dingsbums could be anything, and that's the beauty of the word. You could translate it with "thingamajig" or "doohickey" in English. Dingsbums - or in its shorter form, just "Dings" - is the go-to word when you don't know what it is you want to say. So don't fret if you forget some of our words of the week along the way. There's just one you have to keep in mind. Wait, what was it again?

There aren't any turnstiles in German subway stations. Anybody and their dog (no exaggeration) can get on and off the underground at any time. Many passengers have a monthly pass or an employer-subsidized "Job Ticket" in their wallets. Others buy a ticket at a machine in a station and stamp it when they start their journey. There are always a few, however, who dare to get on without any ticket at all. These unscrupulous risk-takers "ride black" - "schwarzfahren" as the Germans say. While German subways don't have turnstiles, they do have ticket inspectors who randomly roam the trains in search of free-riding "Schwarzfahrer." Those who are caught are slapped with a hefty fine that makes the price of a ticket seem meager.

Pregnant women have a famous craving for dill pickles or "saure Gurken," but don't let that fool you - Sauregurkenzeit (literally, "pickle time") has nothing to do with being pregnant. In fact, you may even be experiencing Sauregurkenzeit right now! It's that time during the summer when nothing seems to be happening, when everyone's on vacation or just a little lazy from the heat. The word came into use in the late 18th century in Berlin and probably related to the pickles from the Spree Forest that hit the stores at the end of the summer. Fortunately, though, strange German words are available year round.

In English, calling someone a monkey usually means they're uncoordinated and a bit ridiculous. But in German, a <i>varnished</i> monkey ("Lackaffe") is not much better. The Lackaffe is sharply dressed, arrogant and particularly sure of himself - regardless of how monkey-like he may seem to everyone else.

Stags become particularly territorial during the mating season, placing claim on the females by shooing their male competitors away with their big horns. This behavior can also be observed among humans. The vacationer who reserves their lounge by the swimming pool all day by leaving their towel on it, or the bratwurst stand that aggressively maintains its prime corner location - they could also be referred to as a "Platzhirsch," literally "place deer." The major difference between the place-guarding animals and their human counterparts is that, among the humans, mating doesn't necessarily play a role in "Platzhirsch" behavior.

How tall are three blocks of cheese? We're not talking about little squares of cheddar, but about those massive enough-for-a-family-of-15 blocks of good European cheese. If you said about as tall as a five-year old, you've hit the nail on the head. In fact, a "Dreikäsehoch," or "three-cheese high," is a playful, if somewhat old-fashioned term for a kid.

Regardless of how you feel about eating liverwurst ("Leberwurst"), you have to admit: It does look rather pathetic. It's pale, mushy and droopy and seems a fitting metaphor for someone who chooses to sulk or pout for no reason. But the expression "offended liverwurst" ("beleidigte Leberwurst") probably has nothing to do with sausage at all. Rather, in the Middle Ages, the liver was commonly believed to have a close connection to people's temperaments. This medical fallacy endured for centuries and "Wurst" was likely added to the expression later on, putting a whole new spin on it.

You have a sharp pain in your back, as if you've been shot. You can hardly move, let alone walk. In Germany, the doctor's diagnosis would be: "Hexenschuss," literally "shot by a witch." The term, which was first used in the 16th century, is probably based on the superstition that witches have the power to harm - and the "Hexenschuss" victim ends up bent over like an old witch. That's certainly a more visual description than the English-speaker who "throws out" his back. Unfortunately, however, there are no magic potions to cure a "Hexenschuss;" the patient can only take it easy and wait.

"Zitter" doesn't have anything to do with Twitter, but comes from "zittern," which means "to shake." "Partie" is a group, lot, crowd, or crew. But when you hear the whole word "Zitterpartie," you're inclined to think it refers to a party where everyone sits around and shakes. Well, that's not entirely far from the truth. A Zitterpartie is actually a nail biter - something that makes you really nervous until its outcome is revealed. We'd call it "sitting on the edge of our seats," but English has other clever terms that are related, too: cliff-hanger, hair-raiser, or thriller. So, shake with suspense and enjoy the Zitterpartie until you find out the next Word of the Week.

A bottle of wine when you're invited to friends' for dinner or a t-shirt for your sister from your tropical island vacation -- that's what Germans call a "Mitbringsel." Since "mitbringen" means to bring something with you, a "Mitbringsel" can really be any small present that you, well, brought with you.

The word for dandelion is similar in German: Löwenzahn, or lion's tooth. But that only refers to the plant when it's flowering. You'd have to blow really hard to make a wish with a Löwenzahn. However, when the petals fall off and the flower is ready to procreate and shed its seeds, it's appropriately called a "Pusteblume," or "blowing flower." Who can resist the urge to puff on a few Pusteblumen until they're bare?

No matter how many times he gets knocked down, he always gets right back up - the "Stehaufmaennchen" is, quite literally, the "little stand-up man." While a low center of gravity is the secret to this toy's buoyancy, real-life "Stehaufmaennchen" come in all shapes, sizes and genders and whether it's being passed over for promotion, watching their partner walk out or burning dinner to a crisp, nothing keeps them down.

Fashion trends (like this, um ... interesting hat) are often just "Strohfeuer" -- there are only a few classics that manage to stick around. A crush can sometimes develop into true love, but often it's also merely "Strohfeuer" (literally, straw fire). And when stocks jump, investors won't make a move if they think it's "Strohfeuer" -- just a flash in the pan.

What comes to mind when you hear the word Sylvester? For many in the English speaking world, it's nothing more than a male name - usually attached to a Looney Tunes cartoon cat. But in Germany and a handful of other countries (Italy, France, Poland, the Czech Republic) 'Silvester', or a variation thereof, is a night to celebrate - ideally by going to a fancy party, drinking champagne and kissing your sweetheart at the stroke of midnight. The end of the year was first called 'Sylvester' back in 1582 AD, when the Gregorian calendar reform moved the last day of the year from Dec. 24 to Dec. 31 - the anniversary of the death of Pope Sylvester I. Of course, he probably never went to a fancy party, drank champagne, and kissed his sweethart at the stroke of midnight on December 31. So it’s a good thing we get to do it for him.

For many people, mice make cute pets. But you can be sure that most rodent-lovers wouldn't want any "Wollmäuse" (literally "woolen mice") hanging around in their house. In fact, they would probably do something to eliminate them if they saw them. Does this sound cruel? Well, not when you consider that "Wollmäuse" are nothing but balls of dust, commonly found in places that don't get vacuumed often enough. They only make faithful pets to those who hate cleaning and - who knows - maybe a few of them are hiding under your bed as you read this?

An egg can be hard-boiled, but it can also be soft and runny - easy to poke, easy to squash, providing no resistance. In other words, it can be extremely delicate - just like a person who is scared of everything. So it's not surprising that the word "Weichei" - literally "soft egg" - is what the Germans use to describe a person who's the opposite of tough. It's the sissy, the wuss, the wimp, the softie… But just don't call them too many nasty names or they might get angry and throw something at you - maybe an egg.

Shop until you drop! A "Kaufrausch" is an expensive shopping spree, often resulting in an excessive hunt for "Schnäppchen" (or bargains, see previous word of the week). "Kaufen" means to buy and "Rausch" literally means intoxication. Indeed, serious shoppers have known for a long time that it can certainly have a therapeutic effect - but, admittedly, can also become addictive. The pattern for a Kaufrausch is usually the same: Although you don't really need any new clothes, shoes or a nice perfume, Kaufrausch victims usually end up with even more bags than these Schnäppchen hunters.

Have you ever had the feeling you've got something in your eye that you just can't get out? In German you could call it a "foreign body feeling," as in "there's a foreign body in my eye." This "Fremdkörpergefühl" can apply to many different body parts -- like your ears, throat, internal organs, or even your skin (like when you've got a cold and feel like your skin is crawling). "Fremdkörpergefühl" can also refer to a physical "foreign body," such as the eyelash in your eye, but in most cases nothing -- or no one -- is actually there, unless you count the germs causing the sensation.

A little color ensures that life is never dull. But if you make your day "blue," it could land you in a lot of trouble! As the alarm clock wakes you from slumber each morning, you've probably had the temptation to "make blue" and hide under the covers. But what has skipping work or school have to do with color? And why blue? The verb "blaumachen" originates from the term "blauer Montag," meaning blue Monday. This was a traditional day of rest for those in the dyeing trade. On Sunday, the dyer would soak his wool and on Monday, it would be hung out to dry. The special solution would react with the air and turn the wool blue. While this process was taking place, the dyer had nothing to do other than sit down, twiddle his thumbs and "make blue" for the whole day.

No Christmas in Germany is complete without wandering through the Christmas markets at night. Under the twinkling Christmas lights, visitors savor the aroma of spices, Glühwein, and Stollen. Stollen is one of Germany's most famous Christmas treats, and it's a moist dough mixture with raisens, currants, almonds, and marzipan under its destinctive coat of icing sugar. But Stollen wasn't always so easy to come by at Christmas. As the advent season was a time for fasting, bakers in medieval Germany were prohibited from using butter in their recipes, so their cakes turned out hard and unappetizing. In the 15th century, the king of Saxony petitioned the Pope to grant him special permission to bake his Stollen with butter. His request wasn't granted until after another 40 years of campaining. Even then, only those rich enough to pay a fee could use the forbidden ingredient, and their money helped build the Freiburg cathedral. The ban on butter was finally lifted completely when Saxony became Protestant. Since then, Stollen recipes have just gotten better and better - these days, Christmas in Germany is almost unthinkable without them.

Don't let your imagination wander. "Muckefuck" is much tamer than you're probably thinking. The term, which refers to coffee substitute made from barley malt, is most likely derived from the French "mocca faux" (fake mocca). In former East Germany, "Muckefuck" meant "kids' coffee," since the barley malt concoction doesn't contain caffeine. Café Muckefuck in Rostock says it chose its unusual name because the word was associated with both coffee (though, admittedly, the connection is weak and tasteless) and nostalgia for former East Germany.

Maybe it's all those pointless forms you're stuck having to fill out just to get anything done, or that monthly staff meeting that drags on and on. In German there's a word for routine office practices that no one ever questions but don't make any sense. Frankly, everyone knows they're just a waste of time, but you'd better not let your boss overhear you saying it. "Betriebsblindheit," literally "business blindness," hits the nail on the head, don't you think?

A parking meter, a slot machine, that coffee machine at the office - a "Groschengrab" is anything that takes a disproportionate amount of your money. "Groschen" were worth 10 "Pfennige," or pennies, before the euro was introduced in Germany. If the money "Grab" ("grave") stopped at a few "Groschen," that wouldn't be so bad. But by nature they tend to be insatiable.

"My darling, I would incur un-expenses to buy you the most beautiful diamond ring in the world!" Direct translations are never quite right, especially they force you to imagine whether an "un-expensive" diamond ring would be very nice at all. Actually, Unkosten is not the opposite of Kosten (expenses), but the very same thing.

Warm days in September that make the summer seem long and ease the transition into the chill of winter -- that's what North Americans would call an Indian summer. In Germany, it's an "Altweibersommer." At first glance, the term literally seems to mean "old hag summer," which conjures up images of spooky Halloween witches, but Oct. 31 is a bit late even for an Indian summer -- although with the balmy weather Germany enjoyed this year that might not be true in 2006. But generally speaking, "weiber" is more likely derived from "weben" (to weave) or "Spinnweben" (web-spinning spiders), which are particularly prevalent in the fifth season -- that is, those few lovely days between summer and fall.

"Soft as a diaper" (the literal translation of "windelweich") sounds like an ad for mattresses, cotton balls or toilet paper. But no, there's nothing soft, gentle and baby-like about this word, which is most often used together with the somewhat harsher word "verprügeln" ("to beat up"). So if someone tells you they're going to "windelweich verprügeln" you, you'd better run. Chances are your face will be as soft as a diaper after they've finished with you.

Generally, spoons are used for things like soup, yogurt, ice cream, cereal, etc. But spoons for your shoes? Come to think of it, a shoe horn (the English equivalent of "Shuhloeffel") does in fact resemble a spoon, but I wouldn't recommend using it as one after it's touched all those feet.

Some people do squats as a form of muscle-building exercise, but the German word "Stubenhocker" (literally, "one who squats in the parlor") doesn't have anything to do with anything productive. In fact, it has more to do with television and chips than with squatting. In plain old English, the "Stubenhocker" is really just a lazy couch potato. Potatoes obviously can't squat. And -- just ask this guy -- sitting around is much more comfortable.

Anyone who has experienced German service at its worst will hardly be surprised that there is an actual word the Germans use to describe this stereotypical phenomenon. Such is the belief that Germany is a land devoid of good service manners that the term "Servicewueste" has been coined. Literally translated, this word means "service desert" and describes the common perception that you can wander the country from Hamburg to Freiburg and never find a decent shop assistant or staff member who won't ignore you, reply curtly to enquiries or raise their eyes to the heavens when approached. As with all deserts, there are, of course, oases of good service and like the surface of the earth, no desert covers the entire crust. So while Germany does have its fair share of rude and lazy workers, it is hardly a wilderness where the skeletons of help and hope lay amongst the rocks with their bones bleached.

"But, Mommeeeee -- I want this and this and this……!!!" Everyone knows a "Quaelgeist," you might even have one in your family: someone or something that is really bothersome, and won't easily be deterred -- a pest! The verb "quaelen" means to torment or bother and a "Geist" is a ghost. But, of course, it's rarely the ghosts that torments people; more often, it's persistent insects or whiney little children.

Germany has no shortage of great bakeries and beers, so you might expect to hear this week's word a lot. But a "Pfundskerl" is not what it seems. The word combines the terms "Pfund," meaning pound, and "Kerl" - which is a guy, or, as some would say, a dude. But you don't have to cut down on calories just because someone calls you a Pfundskerl. The word "Pfund" is also related to "pfundig," meaning great or swell. So before you swear off German bakeries, keep in mind that you may have just been called "a great guy" - with no reference to your weight.

Ugly concrete, tasteless, once-trendy designs, or cheap materials: Some buildings stand out for all the wrong reasons. And German has the perfect term for this phenomenon - Bausuende. Literally translated, Bausuende means "building sin," but English-speakers are more apt to call these architectural mistakes "eyesores." One thing is certain - some cities in Germany have more Bausuenden on their conscience than others, but we won't name any names!

Ahhh-choo! If it's spring where you are, there's a good chance you've already had enough of "Blütenstaub," meaning "pollen." Allergy sufferers in Germany have had a pretty rough go of it this year with the yellow dust blowing as far as the eye - or nose - can reach. Practically everything has turned yellow. But be sure to look on the bright side when you're not looking for your tissues. Without all of that pollen to make things bloom, it would sure be a lot less colorful outside.

Germans love their dogs. They take them into shops and restaurants. And there's even a special word for pet owners. While it's usually the doggies and kitties which get the nicknames, in this case it's the owner: "Frauchen" can be translated as something like "cute little woman." Male pet owners aren't excluded from the sweetness - they're called "Herrchen," or "cute little gentlemen."

"Bohei!" It's not a battle cry, and it's not a Japanese sword fighting technique. In fact, "Bohei" is not much of anything at all. The term refers to those times when a big fuss is made about nothing. Some speculate the word originated from the term "palhe," once used in a dialect spoken by beggars and vagrants. After shifts in pronunciation over time, "palhe" evolved into "Bohei." But if that seems too complicated, don't worry - even Shakespeare can reassure you it's just much "Bohei" about nothing.

If it's young, cute, and everyone dotes on it, then it's probably a "Nesthaekchen." The term is reserved for the youngest child - the baby of the family. Bringing together the words "Nest" and "Haekchen," it literally means something along the lines of "the little hook of the nest." After all, a hook attaches itself to things, and the youngest child is the one most firmly attached to the family nest. Often it's the last to leave home, and parents often have a hard time letting go. Unless, of course, a new sibling comes along and steals the "Nesthaekchen" status for itself.

For many Germans, Christmas is a chance to raise a traditional glass of "Feuerzangenbowle", which literally means "fire tong punch". Sounds nastier than it tastes. The name, which subtly translates to burnt spiced punch, refers to the process by which the drink is made. Mulled wine is heated in a fondue-style pot upon which a pair of tongs, or a grate, hold a rum-soaked sugar loaf which when set on fire slowly drips into the bowl. The result: "Feuerzangenbowle". Cheers!

Oddly enough, "Leberkäs" contains neither "Leber" (liver) nor "Käse" (cheese). Actually, this southern German specialty is meat loaf that is made in a pan, giving it a square shape similar to some cheeses. It is generally sliced (a bit more generously than cheese) and enjoyed on a white bun with plenty of mustard.

Do you think of a rooster when you look at your kitchen faucet? You may not see the connection, but apparently Germans do, because their word for faucet -- "Wasserhahn" -- literally means "water rooster." Mine, however, has never said "cock-a-doodle-do" nor woken me up. But if you stare at it long enough, you might just start to see the rooster.

This word might be a bit of a tongue-twister, but that's totally appropriate as far as its meaning is concerned. If you're faced with a scene where chaos reigns supreme, you can describe it as "Tohuwabohu." The term denotes disorder and confusion - or what we might call hullabaloo. Stemming from biblical Hebrew, its original meaning is "formless and empty," in reference to the state of the Earth before God created light and order. So if Genesis is anything to go by, we owe our existence to God's determined clean-up of the first big "Tohuwabohu."

"Monkey theater" -- or "Affentheater" -- can be staged at a shop, at the bank, at a business meeting, at school or practically anywhere that people do crazy, annoying things. However, unlike Pippi Longstockings, the "Affentheater" of trying to get a new passport issued within a day, for example, or of trying to return a faulty radio to a moody sales clerk unfortunately don't involve any live monkeys. People can cause enough frustration without their help.

When you think of a barn, you usually think of cows, horses, chickens, goats and other farm animals. But Germans sometimes refer to another kind of barn - the "Hosenstall" on your pants, but only when your fly happens to be open. Before leaving the restroom, it's always a good idea to double check your zipper. Getting caught with it open could be embarrassing for you and precarious for whatever is inside the barn. In the picture, the person's pants may be wide open, but fortunately their "Hosenstall" appears to be closed.

"Bueckware" -- literally, "stoop goods" -- takes on a slightly different meaning depending on the current political and economic situation. These days, everyone knows that the cheaper no-name brands are located on the bottom shelves. Customers have to stoop down to get them, while the pricy brand-name products are located at eye level. During the Second World War, shortages led to rationing. Then, "Bueckware" referred to the luxury items -- perhaps chocolate, eggs or sausage -- that store keepers kept hidden under the counter. They were sold only to trusted friends or in exchange for a favor. The situation in communist East Germany was similar. Goods like those pictured here were put on display. But as a favor, or in exchange for one, shop owners would stoop behind the counter to dig out hard-to-come-by things like exotic fruits or even illegal items like record albums from West Germany.

Why did the chicken cross the road? As everyone knows: to get to the other side. But what you may not know is that, in Germany, the law-abiding chicken is helped by the zebra when crossing the road. Well, not by a whole zebra, but at least by its stripes. "Zebra stripes" - or, "Zebrastreifen" - is, in fact, the German word for cross-walk. When in Germany, the chicken should, by the way, take particular care to walk across the zebra stripes only when the pedestrian light is green - otherwise it may be slapped with a hefty fine.

"Sitzfleisch," or "sitting flesh," essentially refers to your rear end, butt, derriere or whatever else you chose to call the padded part of your body that you sit on. "You have Sitzfleisch!" can mean you have strong muscles down there (and can hang on when the airplane hits turbulence or the car makes a sharp turn, for example). It can, however, be somewhat less intimate and refer to your admirable patience in "sitting out" a difficult situation. Since this ladies' bench isn't experiencing any turbulence, we'll assume they're exhibiting incredible patience in waiting for their afternoon tea.

The word "Spiesser" stems from medieval times, when ordinary citizens armed themselves with inexpensive yet effective "Spiesse," or spears in an effort to defend themselves and their land, often successfully, against the noble knights. In the 20th century, the term "Spiesser" was used by the more progressive, left-wing groups to disdainfully describe the social elite, that is, the so-called establishment. More recently, the word along with the adjective form "spiessig" have come to refer somewhat more positively to those who strive for material security (e.g. white picket fence and SUV) and live according to traditional middle-class values. Last year, a savings and loan association ran a TV commercial showing a hippie father sitting with his young daughter in the trailer park where they lived. When he scornfully calls a couple of neighbors, who have managed to buy a house, "Spiesser," the little girl says: "Daddy, I want to be a 'Spiesser' when I grow up, too."

Peter Pan was the boy who lost his shadow, but, had he been German, he may never have wanted to get it back. Someone's "Schattenseite," or "shadow side," is their secret dark side that is responsible for bad deeds or even crimes. Peter Pan certainly did get into quite a bit of mischief, even without his shadow, but all in the harmless spirit of enjoying his boyhood.

Everyone likes receiving presents. Be it on your birthday or at Christmas, tearing off the colorful wrapping to unveil a surprise gift is something that we never grow tired of. But names can be deceiving - "Gift" in German isn't something that you would ever want to be given! It could be the death of you since it means "poison"! A Giftzwerg is something quite different, but equally unpleasant. A Zwerg is a mysterious being commonly found in German mythology and known in English as a dwarf. He resides in the deep, dark underground and is adept at metallurgy, having crafted many great mythical artifacts. So what is a "poison-dwarf"? A Giftzwerg is an individual who rubs people the wrong way - one who is loud, rude and constantly angry. In a word: obnoxious.

The German soccer star Rudi Voeller, the elderly lady next door and Madonna all had one thing in common in the 1980s: a "Dauerwelle" - "permanent wave," or simply "perm." Though chemically curled hair has been around for more than a century, the perm had its heyday more than two decades ago. The idea of the perm started with Karl Nessler, a hairdresser in southern Germany. As the story goes, he tried out his new procedure, involving a concoction and hot rollers, on a girl he had a crush on. Not surprisingly, he burned her scalp in the process, but her hair stayed curly. The girl must have been impressed as well - she later married Nessler.

You're probably wondering why this German word of the week is clearly an English word. "Handy" is one of many instances where Germans have borrowed a term from their English-speaking friends and imbued it with an entirely new meaning. In German, "Handy" does not mean practical, convenient or good at repairing things - it's not even an adjective, but rather a noun. A German "Handy" is a mobile phone. While English speakers may find the use of their borrowed word somewhat far-fetched, no one can deny that a "Handy" isn't, well, handy.