Kevin Rothrock, the senior editor of Meduza's English-language edition, is hopelessly addicted to Twitter, where he has more than 14,000 followers. Kevin mostly tweets about Russia for a Western audience, but he also interacts frequently with Russian speakers. From time to time, he encounters Russian vocabulary that confounds his American brain, and in these situations he sometimes appeals to his readers for help. In this text, Kevin recalls some of the most memorable words and phrases that have stumped him over the years.

I started studying Russian 16 years ago. I was 18, I’d just arrived at college, and I needed to enroll in a foreign language class. For no particularly good reason, I chose Russian and I stuck with it. Later, more than seven years ago, I joined Twitter, where I’ve regularly sought guidance, when overwhelmed by Russian vocabulary and turns of phrase that are like nothing I encountered in the classroom as a student in California.

In my reliance on translation help from Twitter users, I’ve developed a tradition. When there’s something I don’t understand, I address my readers with a simple word: ребята (rebyata, or “guys”). The word itself isn’t special, but it marks every time I’ve turned to the masses for an explanation of something linguistically unfamiliar. A lot of the time, my questions reveal what a complete fool I am.

Over the years, I’ve appealed to ребята dozens of times — often for clarification on truly basic Internet memes. Here are a few of those times.

Guys, what does “AZAZA” mean?

Any red-blooded American knows that laughter is spelled “AHAHAHA” or perhaps “LOL” or even “LOLOLOL,” if you’re feeling cute. In Russia, a “z” is substituted for the “h,” meaning that Russians are running around online saying “AZAZA” at each other. It makes good , but it nonetheless seems psychotic when I look at it, like the sound of a chainsaw. Why did the chicken cross the road? To get to the other side! AZAZAZA.

Guys, what does it mean when cool people on Twitter write “kek”?

Here’s another one I should have known on my own. For those times when you’re not truly LOLing, it’s always nice to acknowledge a joke with a friendly “heh.” In Russian, however, Internet users write “ .” Why not “zez,” if they like to say “AZAZA”? Or why don’t they say “AKAKA” instead of “AZAZA”? And all this is to say nothing about the strangely phallic sound of the word “kek” in English.

Guys, it seems that “Liza Gondonovna” is Condoleezza Rice. How did this happen?

But the dangers of phallic sounding words go both ways — just ask former U.S. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. Apparently some of her critics on the Russian Internet renamed her “Liza Gondonovna,” in a crude play on the words “gondon” (condom) and “kondol” (the first two syllables in Secretary Rice’s first name). So what we get is “Condomiza Rice,” more or less. Thanks, Russia. This was truly your greatest gift to America, before Donald Trump.

Guys, how would you translate into English “*** POIM-”?

The penis jokes don’t end there, of course. In May 2017, ransomware hit the Russian Interior Ministry’s computer network. A snapshot of one of the infected machines appeared on Vkontakte, revealing that the user had a desktop folder called “***- ПОЙМ-,” likely spelling out an obscene phrase that means “No fucking clue.” Literally, it says “you’ll understand dick,” which sounds like a rather menacing threat of sexual violence.

Guys, how would you translate into English the phrase “katit'sya k ****”?

Only Molibog’s F-bomb wasn’t an F-bomb: it was a phrase that literally means “roll to dicks.” Were you the reporter who leaked the audio recording? You, sir or madam, can roll to dicks!

It sounds like a perverted fire-safety measure. Are you on fire? Stop, drop, and roll to dicks!

Guys, how would you translate the phrase “poshchupat' za vymya” into English? It was written in a threat to a journalist.

But it’s not always about phalluses. Earlier this year, Internet users started threatening a journalist from the news outlet Fontanka, after he broke a story about Russian mercenaries fighting in Syria. More than a few folks were upset that his reporting may have put some combatants and their families in harm’s way, leading to backlash online — including a threat to poshchupat’ him za vymya, which literally means “to feel his udders.”

What it actually means is something closer “to grab someone by the balls” or “to rough someone up.”

When I asked about this phrase on Twitter, people clearly assumed that someone had sent me this threat. The official Twitter account of Russia’s Foreign Ministry even tweeted a joke, asking the public not to “feel journalists’ udders,” adding a photograph of a worried-looking cow and the caption, “Udders?” Funny stuff! Except the threat was actually aimed at an investigative reporter in St. Petersburg who blew the lid on Russian mercenaries fighting in Syria. AZAZA?

Guys, what does “ispugat' yezha goloi zhopoi” mean? My thanks in advance for an explanation.

When deciphering Russian phrases, it’s also important not to forget your rear end, and this gem ropes in a hedgehog, for extra measure. In Russian, trying to “scare a hedgehog with a bare ass” is when someone tries to intimidate someone else with something that’s not actually scary — because hedgehogs have prickly spines that would deflect any bare-assed assault.

I’ve only encountered a hedgehog once in my life. In was in Jūrmala, Latvia, and the little creature froze in terror when I shined a flashlight on it. There was never a need to involve my butt.

Guys, how would you translate into English the phrase “Slysh', ty chye takaya derzkaya, a???”

I am not a hip dude, and I don’t generally listen to popular music. Every month, I send a $5 donation to KCSM, a jazz radio station based in San Mateo, California, close to where I grew up. When I wake up, the first words to leave my mouth in the morning are usually, “Alexa, play KCSM on TuneIn.”

So try to imagine my confusion when I came upon the 2015 music video for a song called “Слышь, ты чё такая дерзкая, а???” by two musicians called “Natan” and “Timati.” The video is almost identical to anything ever produced for a hip hop track, featuring buff men, buxom women, and people dancing in a parking lot.

When you look for English translations of the word “дерзкая,” the first suggestion is “impudent” — a thoroughly literary word that has no place in Timati’s lyrics. Try to imagine him winking at a sexy young lady, and saying, “Listen, girl, why you so impudent, eh?”

Because most Russians who speak English learned the British dialect, many of my Russian Twitter followers suggested the words “cheeky” or “saucy,” which also sounds like nonsense to my American ears. I guess a good substitute in American English would be “sassy,” but honestly I’d settle for anything, just so long as I don’t have to hear the song ever again.

Guys, “kievskie skakal'tsy” is Kiev's grasshoppers? Is this an insult or something?

When someone refers to a human being as a grasshopper, my mind goes to the 1970s TV show “Kung Fu,” starring David Carradine of Quentin Tarantino’s “Kill Bill” films. The series features a Shaolin master who likes to talk about grasshoppers, challenging his students to grab them from his hand as a test of speed, and he famously said, “Patience, young grasshopper.”

In Russia, it turns out the word “grasshopper” is at least one of the ways to poke fun at Ukrainians, mocking a popular chant at Ukrainian rallies, where demonstrators start hopping around and repeating, “Whoever isn’t jumping is a Russki!” If Ukrainian patriots all moved to China and started studying to be Shaolin monks, maybe they could be Kung Fu grasshoppers, too.

Guys, tell me: what's funny about the name “Zabivaka”? Is it the fact that the word “zabivat'” means to score and to roll [a joint]? Am I understanding this slang correctly?

In October 2016, Russia revealed its mascot for the 2018 FIFA World Cup: a cartoon wolf named “Zabivaka.” Apart from the ski goggles glued to his face (apparently they’re supposed to be sunglasses), Zabivaka is rather unremarkable to the eyes of foreigners.

But it turns out that the name “Zabivaka” is actually pretty ridiculous in Russian, as the verb it’s built around (zabivat’) has several meanings. The obvious one is “to score,” which isn’t terribly funny, given that we’re talking about a soccer mascot. But zabivat’ also means “to get over something” or “give up on something,” to “beat someone to death,” and — most importantly, where Internet jokes are concerned — the word in drug culture means “to fill an empty cigarette with marijuana.” Wow, that’s a lot a baggage for a mascot!

Guys, what's worse? Writing tvi, writing rebyata, writing chyat, writing chuvaki

My signature cry for help, “Ребята, что это значит?” (Guys, what does this mean?) has rubbed some people the wrong way. Journalist Leonid Ragozin once told me that “ребята” is “the most repulsive word in Russian language.” Ilya Klishin, RTVI’s digital director, explained that it’s nothing like the word “guys” and is in fact “extremely lame.”

When I asked my readers to rank four possible forms of address, however, “ребята” proved to be the least objectionable. This was somewhat disappointing to me, admittedly, because the whole premise of my linguistic questions on Twitter is that I’m a dumb, lame American.

But I’m trying to be better, ребята.

Kevin Rothrock