Random bla bla sitting at the airport comming home…

Giant boyfriend. As her lips came close to mine a God-like voice thundered inside my head. As I shook his hand, earlier, I felt like a child. It was like shaking a Thanksgiving turkey. He looked tired, and rightly so having to move around all that muscle. He also looked kinda infuriated. I would be too if my supermodel girlfriend was paying so much attention to the American with the dimples. “GIANT BOYFRIEND!”, the voice said as her lips moved in slow motion, her eyes closed as she teetred her 6’2 frame on a pair of 5 inch heels. Teetered is actually being too nice. Ya see, when you drink that much… walls start to have gravity as well as the ground and they compete for your mass. She would have blacked out if it hadn’t been for the pile of cocaine. Giant boyfriend. You think I could just… ya know… for a second find myself in a situation where the georous curvy 23 year old super model leans over to kiss me and I just take it. Like a man. But I turned my head. It’s still a kiss if it’s on the cheek, right? And in Europe kissing on the cheek is kinda all the rage. I had the “I still got it” glow for like 2 days. It lasted until the cute usher on the train didn’t check my ticket and I realized that she didn’t check anyone’s. Trains move in fast-forward in Germany. I went to a bar where the owner knows me from the circus days and gives me some kinda lifetime achievement award keychain that makes my money no good there. But I cracked the code on the ukelele much to the dismay of whoever was standing around me while I was struggling to play Fly Me To The Moon which is really hard, by the way. I’m ready to tackle Queen, I think. They post gaurds in front of Jewish Synagouges in Germany. Kinda puts a chill in the air a bit. I’d like to get the phamplet on how I’m supposed to feel about that so I do it correctly.


From my unique vantage point, I see things usually in one of 2 ways: legitimate or scrappy. It’s probably no secret that I have great distain for the legitimate. Which is why Berlin was so odd. It’s like, people were good at hanging out in café’s. People were good at it. Excelled at it. People leaned on things correctly. Perfect bad haircuts. Exceptional over-bites. The worst things I saw there were the result of Americans. We sure are messy.

The German language is fucking funny. And true. It’s so true. It’s kinda funny English in a way, with a buncha words jammed into the mix to throw you off. But ya can’t fool me. I still think they all talk English when I’m out of earshot. Because I’m an asshole, that’s why. Here is a photo of someone who puts little flags on dog shit asking “Who left the dog shit?”


1966 Cornet sitting on the street. With the air weepholes. This is a fancy car. 340 six-pack, if ya wanna get techy. 3 carbs with the worst progressive linkage MOPAR ever made. One more beer and I mighta stole it. The next day? 1973 Satellite. Custom. Only had the 318 but still a super rare car. MOPAR muscle. Makes my day every time…

Are you still thinking about the super model? I am… here is another car…


In the park on Sunday, 1,000 people are gathered to watch this new invention. They’ve never really seen it before, and an American is showing it to them. He has a little sound system, and a microphone and he is showing the people of Berlin the miracle of Kareokie. There are 1,000 people in an ampetheatre all sitting there bright eyed and wonder-filled. Every one of them sang along to Take Me Home Country Roads. Some of them even pulled the harmonys on ‘born’. A full 50% of the songs sung were the Beatles. “Oop la de, oop la da…”, the crowd clapped and swayed. They were simply delighted. Wait until they get toilet paper, they are gonna be happy then. Oh boy!


Berlin is exploding. Young people everywhere and ideas are flying around and there is possibility around every corner. And it’s all totally legit. It’s not like anyone is getting away with anything. There is very little ‘pranking’. And I use this word with trepidation knowing that I may be forced to capitulate anything I say because it’s all still sinking in. Someone will probably write me back and comment and say it more eloquently than I can. But the place could use some recycled Cacophony Events. Anyone out there wanna go live our past and be the king of Berlin for like 3 years before someone takes the idea and figgers out how to get money for it? Apply in person White Trash Fast Food anytime, day or night. Everyone you need is there to host a pigeon roast, a Chuck E. Cheese birthday with a burn victom ‘kid’ in full mummy wrap, a UFO hoax, a pillow fight, a nap in, a Santa rampage (or a bunny hop) or your very own book burning. Whoooops!!!! Nevermind the book burning. Swap that one out for urban golf. Or maybe a big wheel race.

I come home now. Can someone pick me up? Email me first. Take me out for a burrito. SFO 8:00 Tuesday night.


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