Thursday, December 29, 2005

Berlin - a Christmas Fairytale

Someone up there must have dropped a huge bag of icing sugar or flour or Magnesia or cocaine or something. I like to think that it was Saint Peter or a tleast his stupid intern, but the local Newspaper (Der Tagesspiegel) tells me that it was indeed Tiefdruckgebiet Holger! The city looks like one of those lovely gingerbread houses decorated with Gummibärchen and lollipops and what have you, the sort of things WE never had because my mother just couldn't be bothered, but let's not talk about that.

Till deep in the night you can hear the screams of people racing down the hill in Viktoriapark on their sleds and I have to think back to Christmas 1984, when I got a Toboggan, a luvely nice red Toboggan for my birthday, which I loved a lot and which took me on extremely short rides, as we used to live in the valley of the Rhine, respectively extremely long and bold, sometimes almost fatal rides, or so it seemed to me, when I was staying with my granny, who lived on the top of a mountain in the Alpes.

Anyway, that was my Toboggan, my first ever ride (apart from my little blue bike, but that was used when I got it), and I sure wish it was with me now, because I want to go down the Viktoriapark hill screaming and yelling in the middle of the night, too! But there's no sled to be found here, as Jo broke his last year. Darn it. We haven't had that much snow in years and somehow I will get my hands on some go-down-the-snowy-hill-extremely-fast device in order to use it! In some way or other I will!
If you see a girl late at night, going up a hill with a black rubbish-bag in her hand... GO BUY HER A TOBOGGAN!!

Wednesday, December 21, 2005


Having one's birthday at christmas time sucks big time, that's why I again celebrated a couple of days before my actual birthday, as has become the custom, and whoever yells "But that's unlucky" kricht von mir persoenlich direkt inne Fress...!
Anyway, last saturday saw this year's birthday party deluxe. First we had Pancakes Alsaciennes at my place and then we hit the road to the Centraal, next to the Pear Tree, not as hip but with a wider range of beers to choose from. And in order to quote one of Lady Rachel's students: I entirely recommend this experience! We even got a table after only about half an hour of standing arounf at the bar, juhuu!! and in the course of the evening nicked the little shiny party hats off the neighbouring table, where a christmas celebration had taken place and had loads of fun with them. I had my first tequila in ages, in fact I believe the first since I left school and as I happened to have a south american Lady at my side, we did it properly, Herrschaften! Binge drinking in style!
Doch sehen Sie selbst:

In India, the Tiger doesn't go into the tank but comes in a bottle.

The Dave and the I

Ladies with hats (very upper class...we'll go to the horse race next month.)

Ladies Fra and Siets: get moving but don't get up

Hackfressen competition - I win.

Monday, December 19, 2005

Goergens...! still? Wohl die Hosen gestrichen voll, wa?! Wohl Schiss? Jahaa. Zurecht, Junge.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Today's Lesson for Life:

The guy who invented the water flush toilet was called:
Thomas Crapper.
What a wonderful and useful thing he invented, unimaginable what our lives would look like without it. And what kind of appreciation does he get? He gets shite named after him.
I mean the Edisons or the Bells are probably immensely proud of their ancestors. But, let's face it, the Crappers are pooped. (I only say pooped because some excrement of a superviser cencored my little innocent f*****d. Das prangere ich an! But we all know what they really are!)
Zurueck ins Funkhaus und gute Nacht.

Friday, December 16, 2005

Breaking News

Brian Lee Harvey, formerly of East 17 (the short guy with the stupid hats) is currently convalescing after a car accident.
... He run HIMSELF over.
I didn't even know that was physically possible (how can you be IN and UNDER your car at the same time???) but when it comes to stupid things, Brian Harvey can do it.
It's actually not even funny, because he really nearly died, braking his legs and hip and all sort of things.
...Ok, it IS a way...

The BIIIPB goes on!

Nimm das, Scherge!!!

Frau Fleck: 2
Goergens: 0


Thursday, December 15, 2005

My baby is back!

After almost two weeks of absence due to a fixing vacation, the tv finally came back today. Whoever he stayed with, they even cleaned his screen!! And now he's safely back in the kitchen, next to the play sation (who was so lonely without him).

Ten minutes later, that's me. I already forgot how to read and my weekend will mean some serious upcatching on Neighbours and Eastenders!

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Run, Santa, Run (zu deutsch: Santa Rennt)

German Santa dancing the Eminem

Now we know what's under the Kilt...

Some folks I don't know

Ist es ein Vogel? Ist es ein Flugzeug? Nein! Es ist Weihnachts-man!

OK, guys, this is a first:
Who'd have thought that one day, I'd put on a Santa dress and run two laps around West Princes Street Gardens? Many of you, I gather, but who'd have only begun to think that I'd even pay TEN QUID for it??? Exactly.

It was a strange sight, hundreds of people dressed as Santa Clause (and who ALL had payed ten pound to be allowed to do so), santa-bagpipers and all, but it made for some good pictures (you know, santa-bagpipers and all). We even got to keep the Santa dresses! Isn't that just grant? Aaaand we got a medal. Aaaaand our ten bucks will help fulfill wishes for terminally ill children, get them to Lapland (where, as we all know, Santa lives (???) in an Igloo (???)), have snowball fights and feed Reindeers (or was it ON Reindeers??).
HOHOHO for charity (ein Hoch auf die Charitee)!

Monday, December 12, 2005


I declare the Big International Intercontinental Indiefresse Picture Battle (BIIIPB) officially started!


Today's Lesson for Life:

If you're at the bus stop and you feel like dancing and singing with nothing better to do and Elvis in your ear: dance, baby!

Neues Visarecht in Grossbritannien

Kevin hat ein Reiseverbot ... Einreiseverbot! Striktes! Scheckes!

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Friendly Pilotes...

... und ich zitiere woertlich:

"Einen schoenen guten Tag, meine wunderschoenen Damen und Herren auf Ihrem Flug nach Edingburg."
"Ziehen Sie die Schwimmweste ueber den Kopf und achten Sie dabei natuerlich auf Ihre Frisur."
"... wir hoffen Sie haben eine gute Weiterreise; wie haben Sie sehr gerne. (Pause) ... nach Edingburg geflogen. Merry Christmas."

Da sach noch einer was ueber Servicewueste und sowas.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

By the way

Meine Schwester hatte uebrigens auch Geburtstag vor kurzem.

Welcome to Britain...

...where people turn on their shower without actually being in it in order to heat up the bathroom, where empty batteries are thrown in the bin and heaters cannot be turned down in public buildings, which leaves you with the one and only possibility to open the windows wide if you don't want to suffocate and stop caring about the heater working on full power.
It only makes sense that it is in a place like this that you have a heater - installation company called... und jetz ratet mal...

"Global Warming"

Monday, December 05, 2005

Frage des Tages

Lebt eigentlich ollen Plappert noch? Ich habe ein Geschunk fur ihm und muss ihn ausserdem des weiteren uberdies noch wissen lassen, dass die Glasgows dachten, ich nennte ihn Fluffy (in echtigkeit sachte ich naturlich Plappi) und wir folgerichtig beschlussen, ihn furderhin offiziellst desgleichen zu betiteln.

Ich glaub, ich muss jetz erstmal was essen, ich fuehl mich unterzuckert.

Sunday, December 04, 2005


Drawing a pig on this frickin' little pad on this frickin' little laptop is frickin' difficult...

Pachty hard in Glesgey

"So", said the Lady. "I've got my tickets for Faithless and the Chemical Brothers next weekend in Glasgow. Now I've got to find somewhere to sleep." And I thought "I know people in Glasgow, I shall ask them." A little later I thought "I like the people in Glasgow. I should just come along and see them". To be honest, it took me quite a while to figure that out, but I didn't want to come along to the concerts (the lady mocking me for saying "sorry, not my cup of tee", here it goes in German, just as true and better in sound: "Des is net mein Ding, Junge, Vadder echt net. Wenn ich ehrlich bin, wa, dann mag ich am liebsten schoene leckere gute Musik, so richtig mit Melodie und richtig schoen gut, Junge, wa. Vadder..." sorry, I'm losing it ... where was I? Oh, yes, first I have to close the brackets:...)Anyway I thought I might as well come along and hang out with the boys while the Rach is bouncing away in the SECC. A little later all was arranged and we were on the bus to Glasgow. We bought some booze on arrival and took it to Renfrew Street, where we were served susage stew by the boys. I was at least, cause the Lady had to be off to the SECC before dinner was ready, muhuhaa-a. Jamie, the Kristian-man, Scottie (the Aussie! isn't that weird), Nick and meself were then chilling to the sweet and gentle sound of beer cans opening and Jamie's band's new record (Uncle John and White Lock, the new recors out on monday!). After the boys had loudly, clearly and repeatedly shunned the bottle of cider we had brought along (to the effect that it now sits in my fridge, haehaehae), I was told what the evening had in store for us. Following the inspiration of the poster in the kitchen we did the Dude, his Dudeness or, if you prefer, il Duderino and went BOWLING!!! It was a horrible place with ninetees Mucke of the rotten kind and lighting in un-be-liiievable colours. Plus I am totally crap at bowling but I had a hell of a time with the boys and their about 20 friends who all had names they didn't hesitate to tell me (I remeber ganze 2!) and welcomed me in their midst as if I had always been there. Maybe they're just on drugs all the time and really did think I had always been No, I don't think so. Rachel joined us at about the time the DJ started playing spicegirls and the like, carefully feeling his way up to Duran Duran where he comfortably remained throughout the rest of the evening, which wasn't that long as the place closes at midnight. The whole gang trooped (is that a verb? Well, it is now.) to the Art School, where we listened to drum and base. I wasn't really in the mood to dance, as I couldn't find the cloakroom, thus wearing my turtleneck jumper and skijacket in a crowded club and also this is where the saying with the cup and the tee comes is again. I bereft Kristiano of his key before he had the opportunity to smoke a hundred joints and abuse a large range of chemical drugs and contently went up the street to our residence. As I had promised Kristian to let him in on his arrival there, I couldn't really fall asleep, kept on getting up all the time because I had thought I had heard him coming home (his flat has no buzzer, you see) and only really was in a phase of the deepest sleep hours later...when the boy actually came home and desired to be let in. Rachel had to wake me up, because I really really didn't hear anything and apparently I missed quite a show, starring Kristain Emans outside the door and shouting through the letter box "Scooottie, let me iiiiiiin...the Germans took my keeeeeeey...I can't enter my own flaaaaat..." and so on. I finally woke up and opened the door, and boy, was he glad to get in. He's normally very shy and not a physical contact kind of person, but chemicals and desparation can just screw a man's hugging habits up. I'm glad I didn't suffocate. He also brought the whole gang along, but as he is a very considerate man, drugs or no, he all took them downstairs to his room with him as we were sleeping in the living room. The night started with Rachel in the armchair, me on the couch and our cloths on the short couch and ended with me on my camping mat on the floor, Rachel on the short couch and Nick and his skateboard (!) on what had formerly been MY couch. Deep in the night (or rather early in the morning) I awoke when Nick was shoving his board under my feet and busying around on the couch table. I asked him "what are YOU up to?" and got the reply "I was just about to ask you the same thing". "???", I said, "I'm sleeping here!! At least I'm trying to!". He muttered something incomprehensable and then proceeded to try and lie down on the couch next to me. I tried to convince him not to do so.
Me: "Nick...go away!"
Nick: "You serious?"
Me: "Go away!"
Nick: "Honestly?"
Me: "Go! away!"
Nick: "Go away?"
Me: "Goaway!"
Nick: "Goaway??"
Me: "Goaway!"
Nick: "Naaah, I'm not listening..."
Hooraaaaay for the happy pills he must have taken. He can't remember anything and I am actually thinking of blackmailing him. I just have to make up a story...
Anyway I eventually fled the scene and went to sleep on the floor, which was probably better for my back anyway.
We had bacon sandwiches for breakfast (God almighty, what an invaluable piece of information!)and then went on a sightseeing tour. Kelvingrove Park, University building, Huntarian Art Gallery and Macintosh House. But as we were a little tired after the previous night, our higlight was a meal in the local chip shop.
That evening Rach went to see Faithless while Jamie, Nick and I went to the other Nick's place for a poker night (Kristian for some reason being too tired to even get up from his couch). I met Nick on the street coincidentally (Ichso "Hey, mister Nick!" Erso "bloody hell!!!") and he assured me that poker skills were not essential as nobody had any. It was a good poker night with homemade indian food (gee, can that boy cook), lots of people (dougie was there of course and Eoghan the architect came around, too), a fridge full of beer and an episode of "Family guy" on DVD. The only thing missing to make it a perfect poker night was anybody actually playing a card game... but that didn't matter. Chilling and chatting war angesagt and I invited lots of people to both Edinburgh and Berlin. Nick told us the story of the King's dochtir and the Queen's dochtir and the Well at the End of the World in exquisite Highland Scots; me heid is still buzzing! We finally went home to have a good night's sleep. At some point during the weekend I also bought a jumper and we met Sietzke and her sister in the shop next door, but I cannae really remember when that was.
Anyway it was a brilliant weekend and I even did quite a big deal of preparation for tomorrow already.
The sun was shining on our way home, illuminating this beauty of a country in a way I almost had to cry.
Life is geat.
The world is a good place.