Germany n' za Sex

I have not had an entry in about one year? Well ‘who that’ a surprise for?

In any case at the moment I am set in a terminal of the edgy flughafen in Munich, by edgy I am referring to the fact that the airport actually has smoke lounges (a dying fad) but most importantly of all it includes a sex shop. Now that is certainly a point for comment.

What exactly is the point of having a sex shop at an airport? While not an expert in the industry I for one am entirely in favour of petitioning every major airport to license a sex shop.

Everyone can relate to being stuck at duty free trying to decide what a suitable last minute gift would be. Sure there is subpar chocolate, questionably tax free cigarettes, and nauseating beauty products. All that you are really left with is to purchase alcohol but what an ideal combination gift would a bottle of Smirnoff be with a shiny new vibrator? I am in absolute agreement with you that perhaps a vibrator can only be a one off gift. Yet why not buy a souvenir sticker from the city you just visited, slab that sticker on that vibrator that you just purchase, and viola you just got an amazing gift. Every city in Germany could have a branded vibrator this way. Wouldn’t every female (some men) want to be stimulated by Berlin or Munich? Heck, what I wouldn’t do for a Hamburg right now!

Beyond vibrators a sex shop can also provide you with a variety of gifts good for the entire family. Son of ‘that age’? Perhaps an issue of Juggs? Want to teach your kids about the value of race relations? Get some interracial themed DVDs. There are even lollipops in the shape of breasts for the young ones being weaned off mama’s good stuff.

Wow. Who would have thought that the traditional and conservative Bavarian region in which Munich lies would be onto such a great idea? Shame on Shipol (Amsterdam) for not having led the way on what is thematically within its jurisdiction.

Aside from this musing, I spent the last 8 days travelling around Bayern (Bavaria) from the medieval little towns with preserved ancient city walls (eg Rothernburg) to the hop/barley sexiness of Munich. My brother kindly chauffeured us around in a 3 series BMW. It was thrilling being in a vehicle going at 200kph (120mph) on the Autobahn and actually being the slow vehicle on the road.

Afedersin Deutschland and Hello again England!

Under Your Very Nose

There is so much to say and update about.... but I have three objectives for today (1. Proposal, 2. DIY, 3. Cleaning) which makes it a headache because of all the intricacies involved... yet I have no time to fully update. Why am I even on blogspot? I'm warming my lap with the top.

A Leaky Cake

Simone: Is your bathroom sponsored by Tampex?
Cohen: SORRY I bleed.
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Kings Ransom

My sobriety has been foiled. Just as well I should end my week drunk off my ass.

I spent the last two days being academicy and flat hunting. It's almost certain now that I am south London bound. Yes it's further out than I would prefer but then so is Gonzo's nose and he's an internationally recognised puppet.

I also did not get to celebrate Thanksgiving yesterday and actually did not care. You can tell something is up?

Now home to Dickens and cake in a mug! Oh and more importantly, a wet and mouldy bathroom ceiling.
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Vision of Soundness

I'm laying in my bed under the duvet in the dark, wrought with anxiety over presenting at tomorrow's Neonatal Society Meeting and where next the leak in my bathroom (and now hallway) ceiling will drift to...as well as wondering if Lady Gaga will ever leave my ear canals.


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Email of the Week

A Running 'stocking Affair

Quite strange in the I've got scissors for hands,-Edward Scissorhands-, way to be spending an entire weekend at home. I've been rather kinetic the last several weekends that it is almost appealing to know I don't have to worry about the time on the clock and when the next bus/train is leaving. However, I've got so many damn things to get on with (work, domestic, personal, etc) that its a bit overwhelming to be where there is no noise to drown out the concerns which always pertain to weekday activities...maybe I should take to Pippi Longstocking as a role model. Dye my hair red, grow it further for pigtails, get myself a horse, and run around London calling anyone in an 'overcoat' a Governour and saying something irrelevantly insulting about the individual's appearance. This begs to question...what would I name my horse? Oh the conundrum! I may as well just lay in my bed listening to the London Philharmonic lay on the Mozart cheese to my balls.

Since I last posted something thorough I've gone many ways in the same direction or what one may call 'pissing the time away.' Why did Chumbawamba just crash into my head? Why does anything happen in my head? Who the hell knows...

RIGHT:

1. Saw Marie in Paris the weekend of 1st November.
a. I just love my Marie so much, she looks great, has a great flat, and she cooked curry for me.

2. Came back to no electricity (took 2 weeks to sort it all out) and to be divorced by Marie on Facebook (bitch).
a. I luckily had awesome aim. And I only today discovered what the problem was...water built up in the bathroom light fixture from the condensation....I NEED TO MOVE.

3. Booked Lady Gaga tickets for a bunch of people including my favourites of Simone and Sophie...yay February. Maybe I can wear my Pipi outfit to the concert but make it more avant garde by throwing a runover badger across my shoulders.

4. Saw Guy Fawkes fireworks at Blackheath and met some interesting people in Deptford (South East London) while hanging out with my lovely friend Rachel...fireworks are never the same as the ones in your head, like the ones I envision any time I consume cake.

5. Made travel plans for January (Glasgow), February (Paris) and March ( DR).
a. This should keep the noises of responsibility from becoming too loud.


Don't think I will have many non crazy weekends after this one until mid-December...and even then so much to do before a run off to New York. YIKES!!

How fair is it that my mom is in sunny Aruba right now as I sit in dark, cold, and in-between downpours London? This Pipi has something to say about THAT!

I like Jedward on trailer parkish X Factor...SCARY.

Email of the Week

A Slow Demise of Bullet Principals

Whether I like it or not, I have to go in for the kill. I'm currently speeding into St. Pancras from Leicester, where I was handed my ass on a platter by my second PhD supervisor and a co-worker. Back to the drawing board...FOR A FIFTH TIME and this is just a proposal. Tomorrow I'm also running around all day in central London attending meetings and giving presentations. I'm pressed between two hard places overall because of looming deadlines and other presentations. Yet this weekend I'm due to go to Paris. Bad timing man but oh well, at least my thai slut of a UN working wife (aka Marie) will be obliged to give me a back rub.

Through this all, however, I can't help but allow my mind to wonder onto even more important topics like Britney Spears. I'm highly intrigued by Britney reportedly having become rescind to indifference. It seems that Daddy Spears has taken full reigns over her life as if she was Rudolf and he Santa and he is going to beat some sense into her wickedly red nose.

What was I on about? Yes, a suppressed Britney. I wonder how Daddy Spears is managing to do this. I have a theory, of course, but its pure speculation...DRUGS. Britney is being drugged into her mind by elephant sized antipsychotics which explains why she's always guzzling Starbucks fraps, poor bitch is always parched from the drugs. Despite the windfall profits for Starbucks and the steady production of good pop songs, I highly disapprove of a drugged Britney. I mean this could be suppressing the head shaving and paparazzi beating with an umbrella Britney I so much loved in 2007. And frankly this has terrible consequences for our pop culture driven society. As an example look at the shit news outlets have had to cover in place of a deranged Britney...a boy in a fucking balloon and unlike the umbrella marks on the paparazzi this shit wasn't even real!! The world is suffering Daddy Spears! How can you pop pills in Britney's mouth so calmly knowing the trail of devastation it is causing?! I know you are benefiting from a stable income from a fortune that's not being squandered for now...but come on Daddy Spears...PLEASE grow a heart...let us have psycho Britney back.
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A Coroner's Misnomer

Fringe was awesome in case you were wondering. That was a massive post though.

Ended up axing the Falafel-Waffle party, I was all very much Edward Scissorhands about the thing as it was. I did though have a nice Saturday. I met the lovely Babette for Afternoon Tea in

Belgravia at Baker & Spice, where I had a delicious chocolate fudge cake with a very delicious cup of coffee, Babette had the almond cake with their generous heavy on the cream ( read as, how many cows must they have in the back?) hot chocolate. Check out their cake range for yourself.

I rushed home and had one of my few Fulham friends, Chris, come over for late afternoon tea. He was a spot on dude and brought over some M&S goodies, he knows all about my gluttonous side and how much chocolate biscuits that are decorated as holiday penguins would entertain it. We watched a bit of the Family Guy spin off, The Cleveland Show.

I don't know if you have seen it or not, especially since it does not make its UK premier for sometime ( I think next year...), but it is fragrantly produced off the back of inappropriate racial and ethnic humour that has made Family Guy amusing. Although despite the Family Guy-like flashbacks and general inappropriateness, I can't help but feel that there is some element that is not quite right about the show. I will probably continue watching it as an extension of Family Guy but I definitely can't say that the show has shown itself as becoming a distinct entity like American Dad.

After I sent Chris on his way, Stu and Jackie came over to offer relief for my fat laden fridge contents. We ate and watched From Hell (2001), which I actually have seen before but was not opposed to giving it another whirl... they certainly took A LOT of artistic license in that film, my Jack-the-Ripper aficionado friend Rennie would have been very disappointed.

Overall, not a bad way to spend the weekend...if you don't count the pounding my legs took when I tried the Body Pump class at the gym on Sunday. Man I feel more tenderised than if I was rolled out on the road by the Oscar-Mayer weinermobile: