Rude German lady on the bus

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In my politest German I asked a lady on the bus the cost of regular bus fare?

"Ask the bus driver," she replied. "It's his job, not mine!"
What?!
I ditched the foreign language and pointed out the obvious in English: He's driving and I don't want to distract him; especially as we had just entered a tunnel.
So I stood near the front waiting for the tunnel to end and to have a chance to speak with the driver (I boarded the bus from the side door) but then I realized the next stop would be mine so I thought, Screw it.
Before leaving, though, I turned to the ornery jefa and said, "Y'know what: that's why nobody likes German women. You're mean and sure as hell ain't sexy!
She made a sound that implied, Well I never!
On that we could both agree. 

Ever hear of Goettingen?

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Don't worry if you've never heard of it.
Doesn't appear anybody else have either. (It's somewhere betwixt Berlin and Frankfurt.)

BUT whilst here I've gotten a good pump working-out at Fitness Future. The website's pictures don't do it justice...the layout is superb including spacious locker rooms, the StarTrac equipment is the most impressive and fun I've trained with in a long while and, thankfully, the friendly staff keep the music volume at a minimum. Afterwards I always 'cool down' with a nice sweat in the relaxing Finnish sauna (unless one of the old ladies decides to disrobe. Then I get the hell outta there. Yuk. Germans!)

 

Sunflower Hostel (Berlin)

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A hippyish hostel reminiscent of burgeoning internationalism in the immediate wake of the Berlin Wall osmosis. But, then again, "dated" has its appeal. Sunflower Hostel lies on a long stretch of residential street that is otherwise empty. It is pretty much a stone's throw from the Warshauer train station (near the O2 Stadium) and you know you've arrived when you spot the giant metal sunflower blooming from the front of the building. Inside, an eclectic - or typically Berlin - decor of psychedelic murals and plush toys epoxied to all sides of walls; purple cows hang from the ceiling! Staff are tight-knit and, oh what's the word, organic. You know, caravan clothes probably fashioned from hemp, Rastafarian dreadlocks, tattoos, females with unshaven armpits and, very probably protest nuclear energy on their off days. But nice. Male employees were nicer than their female counterparts. 

The hostel offers wi-fi, bed linen, a huge luggage storage - all FREE! - a licensed bar and coin laundry. The all-you-can-eat breakfast for 3 euros is worth taking advantage of; a buffet of fresh seasonal fruits (apples, plums, pears, etc) salami, cheese, rolls, cereal and milk, tea and coffee. 

arrogant French couple inconsiderately commenced copulating

I frequently stay here owing to their low - and upfront - rates, comfortable surroundings and, at the risk of sounding corny, memorable short-term friendships. One winter I lodged as a long-term guest in a shared room of 8 beds. Luckily the roommates were sociable and pleasant which made the stay not an insufferable or trying experience -- except for the time this arrogant French couple inconsiderately commenced copulating and had the gall to hate us for being disturbed by it. Frogs! Otherwise it was all civilized and sunflowery.
I'm definitely not of the hippy mold but Sunflower Hostel is still groovy by me.

Sunflower Hostel Berlin
Helsingforser Str. 17
10243 Berlin

E-Mail: hostel(at)sunflower-hostel.de

Tel: +49 – (0)30 – 440 44 250   

Immigrant workers in Spain

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Looking back on it, every time I felt slighted by the customer service in Spain the worker was an Indian-looking girl. Typical of her primitive caste, she probably felt it beneath her to have to wait on me. But get this: that's what waitresses do...they wait on customers, including black customers. Somebody needs to bring those bitches up to speed on the job description. Not that the Spanish people are racist-free sans the Indian-looking waitresses.

Birds of a feather prefer to flock together

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The apartment saga continues. I know that birds of a feather flocking together is more than a rhyming truism but I ever wonder that people think themselves above such "simplistic" old-fashioned facts. Everyone likes to think he is an Individual, impervious to advertisements and peer pressure as he marches to the beat of his own drummer confident of his ability to freely express himself to whomever he pleases however he pleases. Well, if that were so I'd have a ton more friends than non-friends because I believe in my beliefs no matter the crowd, and know something about my allure of advertisements and disdain for peer pressure.

 I went in search of a furnished room for a week; they were in search of a like-minded friend. A clone.

If birds of a feather didn't need to flock together I mightn't keep losing out short-term lodgings (weekly) to "a friend of a friend." There is a lot of group-think going on in Berlin...where everyone is supposedly an Individual or artist of one degree or another. Or I would still have the room I agreed to rent yesterday (for 1 week) if the girl -- once again, a female -- hadn't read my web log with a collectivist mind. See, my freely and articulated writings do not agree with those of hers and her lot who are of the homosexual militancy. I pegged the lot in under a minute of viewing the apartment. I knew what they were. I guessed how they rolled. So? What did it matter to me? Nothing.

But that's the folly of my individuality. I went in search of a clean, furnished, wi-fi capable room for a week; they were in search of a friend, a like-minded friend. A clone. Once again, the non-conservative person-- young liberal-minded people are so above labels --ha!-- they dismiss 'liberal' along with anything in the affirmative. They cannot say what they are, only what they are not and they definitely are not conservative so I can safely identify these clueless rebels as non-conservative -- showed her inability to be open-minded, to think outside of the box, to engage outside of the familiar, to live with differences. 

Everyone likes to think he is an Individual. Well if that were so I'd have a ton more friends than non-friends.

But maybe I paint the picture too dramatic. After all I didn't enter the apartment espousing this and that (she read my web log); there was no time or need for sharing politics and moral philosophies. They were of a different cut and I didn't care. I have experienced and slept in far more uncomfortable, unfavorable and dire elements than a flat full of eco-friendly, dyed lesbians with a pseudo relativistic philosophy of life. But there I go again being dramatic: they likely haven't a philosophy of life...and probably couldn't parse together the above sentence. Moreover, the girl and roommates wouldn't even be in the flat. So...the week long rent would not have  amounted to a test of anything. 


And here I thought the Dodo bird was extinct.

 

Coco Before Chanel

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I adore her streak of daring and independence. She thought men dressed more comfortably than women so she adapted----not adopted----menswear to fit her (as opposed to feminist poster boys Fran Lebowitz....

Read more: A Muckraker Other: Coco Before Chanel

Men don't dig feminist chicks

Feminists are always good for a hearty ribbing---get it?---or ridicule. They seem to get off on being told to shut up and go ride a bicycle. Like an arsonist who keeps trying to alight the Fire Station.

Either Canada produces the most feminists or just the loudest, obnoxious ones ...who like to travel...and confirm that, yep, no sober man digs them and no drunk man is ever that drunk, eh?

They are so stunned when I don't second their motions.

But, they affirm, you're black!

Brown University, look out.

Why is it that feminists presume black men will side with them? Aside from delusions of equality. Easy: they figure no Negro will be un-horny enough to disagree with them...and they want to piss off mommy or daddy. Tsk, tsk, tsk how quickly they forget

Anti-feminazi Rule #1: Men do not dig feminist chicks.

Take these two I encountered in Barcelona---please. Oh how they waxed blasé over casual sex (there's a joke in there somewhere) and smoked joints in front of me---me! Mr Morally Drug-free---right in front of my face. Because Canadians are sooo "unrestricted". Yet, when we didn't see eye-to-eye on my ideal wife (such intrusive bitches!) they fumed I offended them and, get this, "lost so much respect for me" in that moment.

Yeah. Now, shut up and go ride a bicycle.