First Dalibor Labinjan barges into Klaudio’s and starts telling jokes over his morning coffee, and then Miro Kotiga barges in and joins Dalibor with matching gusto. A long series of jokes follows. They come one after another without a pause. Dalibor and Miro take turns, and the rest of us laugh our heads off. In less than a quarter of an hour, everyone in the café hears at least thirty jokes. Well, make that forty. I do not mind all the good ones, but I am a bit annoyed by the bad ones. Curiously, they all make me laugh so much that my chest now hurts like hell. It appears that broken ribs go for jokes of all sorts, no matter whether good or bad. When it comes to humor, broken ribs are pretty indiscriminate.