Donna Summer summer concert (Berlin)

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Last night I went to groove to Donna Summer performing live in Berlin's Tempodrom. She was hot!But then some people know I have a thing for older women...hehehe. Even the Germans were shouting out "Love to love you, baby!" and "Donna, marry me!"



She sang all of the songs I knew so well and, in fact, some of them have been covered and sampled so much that I even forgot Donna Summer was the one who first sang them. However she didn't perform Con te partiro and I dig her version the most. I saw the poster when I arrived some three weeks ago and said I wanted to go and---boom!---with a bit of good fortune I went. Exxxcellent.



www.donnasummer.com

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Man prefers sex with a horse named Sugar

One man in South Carolina would rather have sex with this woman's horse than with this woman. Seriously. The horse's name is Sugar. Seriously. With a name like that it mightn't be so hard to comprehend why the sodomite couldn't resist...yes?...no?..maybe so? This is not the first time Rodell Vereen, 50, was caught with Sugar with his pants down. Hello! He goes on trail Monday for buggery.

read the story

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Racial profiling in Berlin

Oh yes, it still happens in Germany. And why not? A week to the day of Henry Louis Gates, Jr.'s run-in with the pigs I had my own introduction whilst claiming a ticket at the Berlin Hauptbanholf Station.

Only yesterday, I was stopped and questioned by two German politzei for absolutely no apparent reason. They asked to view my train ticket and passport. I only carried my state i.d. but, hey, it's still identification. The one called it in on his walktie-talkie and after several repeats I was handed back my stuff and told with a smile, Have a good day. Yep, I'm clean! If I hadn't a ticket in hand what would they have done? I think they presumed I was a pick-pocket. Hello!

The officials were very pleasant and professional---the nicest I've ever met, really---but since they had no cause to stop me and since I committed no infraction their polite interruption of my day remains unfair and, evidently, racially motivated.

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Eff babies. Wear effing condoms

The following is an actual rant published care of Montreal's Rant line:

Hey Montreal, you know what grinds my gears? I'm a dog owner and I don't understand why they don't allow dogs in restaurants, but they allow BABIES. My dog shits outside, he doesn't shit inside. Babies shit inside. It STINKS. And my dog's well-behaved, he's quiet. Babies aren't quiet. It just sucks. I have a shitty job, you know, and when I make some money, I go to a restaurant for a good meal and there's Mr. Baby, yeah, and he's crying, yeah. Fuck babies. I hate babies. It's called condoms, fucking wear condoms.[BLEEP!] [italics added]

My sentiments exactly...and I also don't care much for pets. As W.C. Fields mused, "Anyone who hates children and animals can't be all bad."

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Asshole in Brussels

On July twelth I enountered I was trying to get from Belgium to Germany and came up against snotty, racist customer service courtesy of Belgian Railway at the Brussels-Midi train station. There is something about French speakers that just tempts a slap in the mouth. This case was no exception.

But, as usual, when blacks enter the game, rules change

After staying up all night in the station chatting and laughing with other stranded backpackers---we had nothing else to do---I made sure to be one of the first persons in line when the travel office opened at 0600hrs. About seven people were in line in the otherwise deserted ticket office at six in the morn when a black vagabond cut in line. The worker muttered something and off the tramp shuffled. Then it was my turn. Another one, he probably thought, and DISMISSIVELY demanded my line number. I hadn't one because, well, there were only seven of us in the office at six in the morning. Also, no one ahead of me took numbers. Also the service reps weren't even bothering with the numbers either. But, as usual, when blacks enter the game, rules change.

Give me your ticket or get out of here, said the service rep. Hello! Fine, I retorted and told him he needn't be an asshole about it. This shocked him---shocked him, I tells ya!---and he started shouting, Security! Securtiy! I'm calling security! You are threatening me!

Huh? It was no threat. It was an assessment of his snooty, antagonistic behaviour. Like any dissatisfied customer I asked to speak with the manager or supervisor. At this point, the sissy man went into hysterics, insisting his co-workers ignore me and shouting at the top of his lungs, "Don't help him! He can't ride our trains! Security, security, security! Security, security, security! He can't ride our trains! He called me an asshole! Security, security, security!" This display went on for about three minutes.

Instead of a manager I was confronted with, you guessed it, Security. Apparently all of them (there were no less than eight red shirts). The head of this red shirt bloc, a tiny man, was trying his best to engage me in a confrontation. Like a monkey he kept thumping his chest and jutting out his chin. Was I seriously supposed to be intimidated or whatever by this?? Nigga please. This tiny, angry man also insisted no Belgian Railway manager or supervisor worked on Sundays, claiming he was the manager (with more chest thumping). Although I am black I am not an idiot.

But, lo and behold, before exiting the ticket office a manly female supervisor did step forward to defend her employee. So much for that blatant lie. Where was she when I asked to speak with her? Certainly not shaving the upper lip.

I coolly gathered my bags and ignored the red shirts as they muttered insults in French because I realize most people who take security jobs have low I.Q.s and even lower social etiquette. They laughed and sang, au revoir, to me. But I kept my cool. I rode the escalator out only to find I'd landed onto the platform where, bon chance, the very train I needed was arriving. So despite Belgian Railways' shitty customer service and refusal to sell me a ticket I got on board the damn train anyhow and went to where I needed to go. Hahaha! (I still possessed an unused ticket but the change of events still felt like sweet vengeance.)

The whole situation was blown out of proportion and greatly absent of customer service. A manager should have stepped in when requested by me, the customer, not her employee. That rep was one curt, rude, hysterical (someone should post the video tapes on Youtube) Frenchlick. Perhaps I should not have called him on it but, yeah, not only was he an asshole, he's a big emotional sissy, too. "Security! Security!"

Despite Belgian Railways shitty refusal to sell me a ticket I got on board the damn train anyhow and went to where I needed to go. Hahaha parlez vous francais motherfuckers!

Belgian Railway
www.b-rail.be

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Amsterdam typified by marijuana

Amsterdam's tourism stays afloat due to, and only due to, the legality of marijuana. Dutch Masters, Dutch Shmasters. Tourists aren't going to give a damn about the contributions and historicity of Van Gogh or Rembrandt or legal prostitution so long as unrestrained dope smoking remains legal.

Unfortunately this is the hallmark of Amsterdam. Why, even the infamous Red Light District has taken a back seat to Internet porn as virtual sluts are more accessible---and free. Booyah!

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Hostel the Globe Center (Amsterdam)

Coming straight from the airport I was just glad to have gotten a bed. I don't use credit cards and, so, never have a room reservation. In fact, I hadn't a clue where to go until I paid 3euros for 15 minutes on the airport kiosk and quickly jotted down a couple of hostels.

Hostel the Globe Center is a pub with rooms above it. Ideal arrangement for drunkards and near-sighted drunkards. I got there before check-out time---10am---and had to wait until Housekeeping made the rounds. It was around 14oohrs when I was able to go up. Understandable. Like I said, I was just glad there was a vacant bed. (The walking directions from the central train station were surprisingly spot on. Just walk towards the church tower!)

My bed in the 8-bed dorm cost 25euros (weekday) and would jump to 45euros for the weekend. This is not backpacker cheap but, hey, plenty of other travellers were willing to pony up. Afterall it's not in every city one can smoke dope in public.

Oudezijds Voorburgwal 3, 1012EH

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The Bulldog Hotel (Amsterdam)

The Bulldog Hotel bills itself as a 5-star hostel and it is certainly a frilly outfit. Staff wear uniform T-shirts bearing the company logo; surveillance cameras are everywhere; a doorman stands guard in the evenings; decor bespeaks hotel, not youth hostel; and here you'll find no cheap, squeaky beds or slovenly behaviour on premises (e.g., shouting in the halls or vomiting).

There's a rooftop terrace for the smoking of prohibited tobacco (!!), an upscale lounge and bar on the first floor with dim lighting and plenty of tables and seating. By lunch time the swank elegance is fumigated by stoners and rebels without clues. The smoke is so thick you can actually see the haze lingering in the air with the naked eye. In the lounge are computer terminals that cost while wi-fi access is FREE. One other great feature is the FREE luggage storage.

Aside from my general gripe with Amsterdam's Red Light District---too, too many young tourists forcing themselves to get high non-stop and a perpetual London fog of cannabis smoke---the Bulldog is a great stay. Plus, if you're mad on reefer you will be too stoned to be bothered by the cooler-than-thou hang-up of the establishment.

I have a hard time believing this bullshit policy sticks for girls, especially white girls

To begin, a doorman/bouncer? Nigga please. It's a hostel, not an exclusive nightclub. Nothing dangerously violent is going to occur here that wouldn't go down at any other lodging; even less so because, after all, pot heads are a harmless, peace & love mongering lot, right? And as everyone knows bouncers are unduly self-important, id est antagonistic. The doormen practically bark, Can I help you, before permitting you passage.

Reception are slightly better. Problem is they are thick in the head and too cool to be bothered with anything beyond checking guests in or out of rooms. This 5-star badass place is above taking phone messages for guests. Hello! My international caller was told that it was not Front Desk's job to play secretary or deliver messages to lodgers. Huh?!

Yes, in fact, that is a responsibility of Front Desk. Talk about customer service! I have a hard time believing this bullshit policy sticks for girls, especially white girls. The Bulldog Hotel achieves high marks on ratty customer service. Really, a smile and cooperation go a long way. So give a dawg a bone and don't playa hate....

Oudezijds Voorburgwal 220, 1012 GJ

+31 20.620.38.22

fax: (+31) 20 627 16 12

website

info@bulldoghotel.com

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"Duplicity" is a crappy movie

On the flight from Toronto the airline showed "Duplicity" starring ugly Julia Roberts and Clive Owen. I knew a man, a Torontonian incidentally, who raved about the movie. A must-see! Fantastic, he said. I was soarly disappointed...then again, knowing the source of the acclaim, I probably should've known better.

"Duplicity" is all-star glossy crap

It should be an exciting movie but it isn't. Clive Ownen's character is, strangely, pussy-whipped over the supposedly femme fatale Miss Roberts. The kissing scenes were creepy. Worse still, is the amount of screen time Miss Roberts commands. Her wide mouth was in every other scene. Inescapable ugliness! My only recourse was to switch the audio to music and take refuge in a book. I always travel with a book.

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Downtowner Inn (Toronto)

The Downtowner Inn is a decent budget hotel/hostel for any budget traveller---veteran backpacker, student, young couple---or someone just passing through. I chose it on two seperate visits to Toronto. This is an establishment where the owners really work to to turn their business into an attractive option for lodgers and where customer service is top priority.

Dorm rates run $23.30. Sweet! The single rooms cost a little more and, along with some smaller dorms, include a television; but all rooms have bathrooms on the inside; there are no communal showers per floor. I only slept in the dorm rooms. The inn provides linen and towel (with soap).

They also have low priced, furnished private student suites.

I like staying here for the many perks and kind staff. The owners really work to to turn their business into an attractive option for lodgers and where customer service is top priority

When I first stayed here in early June the workers were busy refurbishing and putting down carpet---loudly. The place did not appear becoming and I expected nothing beyond a cheap sleep. Add to that the immediate neighborhood of Victorian maisons which now serve as missions for dodgy characters and it is not hard to understand my prejudice. However, everything that one expects operable---telephone, computer, wi-fi connection, kitchen, hot showers---was in working order. Once the dust settled after 24 hours, the place looked loads better and was quieter. Things were even more improved on my second stay in July.

I like staying here for the many perks and kind staff. Four computers with FREE access (plus wi-fi), FREE pancake breakfast, open kitchen and coin laundry, and FREE local calls. Checking in and out is simple, and extending one's stay is hassle free.

Out front is a large space with benches and picnic tables, and the place is just two doors from a popular city park. Downtowner Inn is accessible from public transit; it's situated between two street car stops (Sherborne and College or Dundas Streets)

This is as good a place as any to kick it while trying to figure out why Toronto is supposedly a hot tourist destination. I've been to town a few times now and I still don't get why any non Canadian/Indian/homosexual/vegeterian/marijuana enthusiast/West Indian would enthusiastically elect to call this city home. But what do I know?

117 Pembroke Street

416.925.8456

fax: 647.438.8381

website

sales@downtownerinntoronto.com

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Expert tailor (Toronto)

I got tired of cuffing my new jeans four inches so I took them in to be hemmed right before packing for my trip abroad. The gentleman at Alian Designs did the job johnny-on-the-spot. Just as advertised, he was able to complete a rush repair while I waited. It took all of ten minutes from greeting to good-bye and only cost me $5 CAN.

Alain Designs (Bespoke)
211-593 Yonge Street
Toronto
416.840.3427 info@aliandesign.com
website

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Because I want to support black businesses

Am not a big T-shirt guy and even less likely to sport torso bumper stickers---y'know those shirts with ironic or cheeky sayings like "Sexy Grandma" (when worn by some dork who mistakes his penis for an Xbox joystick), "Save Water.Drink Bieer," "Sex Expert. First Lesson FREE," "Bitch"---but I really want to buy a Michael Jackson print.

Problem is I couldn't find a black store owner. The nearby T-shirt and skateboard shops, for whom its mainstay customers, disaffected skate punks and hipsters, regard irony a RedBull spin-off, have a nice selection of MJ shirts but the staff are all monochromatic white. I don't think so.

This is one of those cases where my dollars will go to a black owned business or I'll just have to make do without a farewell shirt.

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Cheaper to fly to Rome than Vancouver

Was hoping to see Vancouver during this visit to Canada...but travel to western Canada is a bitch---a very expensive one. Tripping to Vancouver from, say, Ontario or Quebec is more costly than flying to Germany or Brussels or France. So who in the world would go to British Columbia when he could fly to Europe? Hello! Not me.

Even the cost of travelling via Greyhound was comparable to an international flight. Now that's just Canadian krazy!!

Off to the Old World,
SSpartan

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My brand new mini laptop (Toronto)

The one high-tech gadget I find it hard to do without is the Internet. Yeah, yeah, yeah, technically the computer is the gadget but you know what I mean. Cellular phones and the whole palm pilot craze do nothing for me but email is super important to me; and, of course, there are my web logs. I always chose youth hostels that offer free Internet (or free breakfast) otherwise it's off to the Internet cafes for me. Satis! So I finally went out and bought a laptop the other day. Hello wi-fi.

After price-hunting up and down College Street I snapped up one of those new mini models on the market---brand new!! At $270 (+11.5% Canuck tax) I think I got it at a deal. Told myself not to spend more than three hundred dollars and I pretty damn well hit the mark; and it's brand new!!

it's compact, cute and sexy black---just like me. But as an avid traveller...I do loves to travel light!

Asus PC900HD. Am a fast typist so the small keyboard will take some getting used to but the small screen is pretty okay...plus it comes with a built-in webcam...ooh la la. Chi-ching. The real kicker for me, though, is its small size. Sure, it's compact, cute and sexy black---just like me---but as an avid traveller/backpacker I love the fact that the doggone thing is no larger or heavier than a philosophy book. I do loves to travel light!

Now I feel like a hip Japanese/Chinese/South Korean traveller. Hehehe

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Montreal Fine Arts Museum

My recent trip to the Musee Des Beaux-Arts De Montreal was a jaw-dropping experience. Museums are almost always a pleasure to take in. My reason for visiting was to view the Napoleon exhibit made possible through the enormous collection of Ben Wieder. Man, did he make a killing with bodybuilding! The objects on display were extensive and, without a doubt, tres, tres cher. Behind glass case were the very boot, silk shirt, writing case, and famous broadside hat of Napoleon Bonaparte. There was also a locket of his hair which was once owned by writer, George Sands. Among the many portraits, paintings, and busts of the French emperor were also several pieces of Napoleonic objects, things which came into fashion or a new design during his reign, such as ornamented clocks, candy jars, cookware, sitting chairs.

After pulling myself from the Napoleon exhibit I viewed some of the museum's permanent collection. Pierre-Eugene-Emile Herbert's terracotta sculpture "Et Toujours!! Et Jamais!!" (Forever!! Never!!; 1860) reminded me of biker paraphernalia and porn: a young, curvaceous woman being groped by an unrelenting old, scary-looking bastard; in this case, Death.

Jacques-Louis Gaither's bronze sculpture, "Mephistopheles" (1st version) has to be the inspiration behind many a pimp's image. Click picture for better viewing.


My personal favorite was James Tissot's oil painting, "October" (1877). In it we see a beautiful lady in beautiful coat and dress creeping through the park of fallen leaves with a tattered book tucked under her arm. I stared at the painting, pacing to and fro. I heard not a crackle of the leaves but only the flowing russle of her clothes.
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click image for better viewing

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MICHAEL JACKSON 1958-2009

A MOST IMPORTANT CIVIL RIGHT DIED WITH MICHAEL JACKSON

Posted using ShareThis

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