My first Oktoberfest (Munich)

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Was going through my writings when I discovered the following post was sitting in the Draft folder still un-published! On top of that it's a "timely" piece: about my first trip to Munich two years ago last week:


I visited Munich only because I was travelling up from Austria. It was mere coincidence that my arrival was during the famous Oktoberfest (which is actually held in late September. Go figure) and I thought, Oh this should be something!

stupid shit seen at Oktoberfest

stupid shit not seen at Oktoberfest

Oktoberfest is great -- if you like your drunks alive, loud and sausaged in lederhosens. Me? I prefer drunks quiet, dead, and maturely dressed. Everywhere the head swiveled the eyes - and ears and nose - encountered merry drunkards who looked like rosy cheeked escapees from a woodcutting work camp. And where there were gaps there were plenty of equally bad dressed American and Australian tourists who gladly acted fools. As I sat in Burger King soaking up the free wi-fi some New Jersey assholes shouted AND sang cheers for the New Jersey Jets. Classless.


Their girlfriends just laughed along. Any social studies course that posits females are selective about their mates for the logical reasons of protection, stability, breeding prowess is full of shit; namely because females dig jerks (lifelong projects) and, therefore, are not logical creatures.

I was in Munich for less than one day and was 'randomly' stopped by two pairs of pigs on the grounds of "border control"

Onwards. My impression of Munich is also smeared by the racism of its detectives. At least, they posed as undercover agents. (This presented a real problem to me for how am I supposed to know an undercover pig from a con man posing as an undercover pig? A very popular scam in Latin America and there is no reason to think it does not happen here.)
I was in Munich for less than one day and was 'randomly' stopped by two pairs of pigs on the grounds of border control. The EU has no borders.
But as all the white and liberal and educated, homosexual-friendly people tell me: There is no more racism.

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Italian women are racists. Italian men are racist peacocks

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Italians are not known to be all that hospitable towards black people. I heard about it before I got here. Was told the racial attitudes were different between the northern and southern guidos. But it is not. I experienced the attitudes of contempt last year when I visited northern Italy; experienced the attitudes of contempt this year while I'm visiting Rome.  Especially from the women.

Italy is a racist society

Old cunts clam up when I approach and just watch me...like doberman pincers.
If they have room to scram, they really make a show of moving out of my path. Those behind counters give off an icy vibe. Typical of Italians, they are legends in their own minds...glamorous movies have really hyped their heads into thinking they are the most desirable women on Earth. They are not.

And if Italian birds are serious about looking like 'all-that', then they have only  to take a cue from their male counterparts who clearly know how to dress and pluck their eyebrows better than the women. God, Italian men are terribly vain about their appearances.  

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This Sunday is a perfect ten

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Today's date is 10.10.10. 
Oh ain't that groovy now!

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Brugal tastes soooo good

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My flatmate in Germany visited NYC - don't get me started on NYC - and I was smart enough to ask him to bring back a bottle of that yum-yum good Dominican rum called Brugal. Oh it is soooo smooth...and since New York City is an annex of the Dominican Republic (like Puerto Rico and the worst parts of Italian culture) I knew the liquor could be found there. Afterall it is where I discovered it.

Like a superhero my tall Teutonic flatmate, indeed, stepped up to the challenge and returned with a bottle of the elixir vitae I  enjoy so much. And, three weeks later, I'm still travelling with some of it...don't think it will last another two weeks, though. 


Booyah!

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When in Rome...

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Rome is such a fascinating city. All the things one sees in pictures really does exist here: the Colosseum, the church artifacts, the marble statues, the espresso-loving Italians, the mopeds, the fountains, and, of course, the Vatican. Put to see it up close is striking; not so much for it's grandeur but that it actually exists and, yes, is as grand as you had imagined.

I have been in Rome for a full week. The weather has been beautiful throughout (there was one day of grey and light rain). When I first saw the famous Colosseum I was in awe - naturally! - because the reality was so surreal; I somewhat didn't expect to actually see the actual thing. I know that sounds a bit off. 

Today I was privy to a tour of the city via motor scooter. The nice Italian - and they are not all nice or welcoming to dark skinned people! - gave me a ride on the back of  his moped. It truly makes a difference to see the city this way. Travelling through the subway sucks. Travelling above ground, however, keeps Rome from seeming so claustrophobic and primitive...even if one isn't driving a zippy moped.

I saw the Trevi Fountain, the stock exchange, the Pantheon, two churches with amazing, jaw-dropping Baroque art, a military procession at the president's palace, and one expensive lunch (9€ minestrone soup and bread). ¡Mama mia! 

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Fuck off Gypsy!

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As I was leaving Berlin last week to catch my flight to Rome a beggar Gypsy girl had the stupidity to try to stop me for spare change. I can't stand these people. I'm not a neutered German so I can say that unapologetically. 

Here I was partially loaded down with luggage and speeding through Alexanderplatz and this ragamuffin thinks I'm going to stop and fish out some euro coins for her scheming ass?! Nigga please! She could have been holding two more babies (props!) and I couldn't have cared any less. 

Without slowing down I countered her "Do you speak English?" with a terse, Bitch get outta my way!

"You mother a bitch", she replied a bit stunned by the fast retort to which I, without missing a step, said, But she works, you lazy bitch.


Popular media are chastising French President Sarkozy for his efforts at eradicating the parasites but somebody has got to make the effort and do something.

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Comfort foods for American expat

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There are some American goodies that one learns it is hopeless to expect in foreign stores. For me it's been, foodwise, milk in plastic containers, Oreo cookies, crunchy peanut butter (if there is any peanut butter at all), B-B-Q sauce, popcorn and Pepsi cola; toiletries: Crest toothpaste, Palmers body lotion and black shaving products - which I have to hunt down an ethnic store to buy because white people skin products are shit - and antibacterial bodywash; miscellany: Vanity Fair or Newsweek magazines and service with a smile.

I've encountered success with finding some items, and all by surprise. Last month in Barcelona I found Brugal rum - my favorite rum - on the shelf in Carrefore and some time after that in Berlin my eye spied a generic "American" brand of crunchy peanut butter. Yum-yum!

Two weeks ago I lucked out with a black store that was plenty stocked with Palmer products and Magic razorless creams. And then I was wandering through the Reicher supermarket one night and - lawdy be! - there was popcorn seeds. To boot, the popcorn was endorsed by the famous TV chef Nelson Müller. Never heard of him before in my life but he's a black man.

Booyah! 

 

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