RULES OF ENGAGEMENT

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Disassociate yourself from people who are vulgar, corrupt, or believe themselves too good to work. There's a big difference between a drifter or wanderer and someone who is dishonest or simply lazy & feckless...such people are bad energy; and bad company.

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Madrid, Spain (PICS)

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 Royal Palace (Home to King Juan Carlos & Queen Sofia)

 statuary gardens by the Palace 

 Puerta del Sol ... shopping!

  by day

  by night

 by blurry light

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What's worse than a book critic?

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Answer: A volunteer critic.
Those who can't, teach; and those who can't do that, diss & moan. At Lulu.com one opined I wouldn't succeed because the majority of book buyers are white (and then proceeded to impersonate Ebonics). Read more about my brush with these delusional 'experts' in The importance of dismissing volunteers.

I make no time for drama queens & sexless men.

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UK Border Assholes

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Once again the best laid plans of mice and men were screwed up by a bitch working at border patrol (it should go without saying she was a white bitch).

Two days ago I was on a bus from Paris to London (after having spent half a day riding the train to Paris...ICE was five - five! - hours behind schedule because of a little snowfall that wouldn't even make a Hoosier sneeze). Exited through French Customs without problems but two minutes later at the UK Customs I had nothing but problems -- starting with the white bitch.

It was a criminal interrogation. They wanted a fugitive; I am not that.

Never mind that I had a doctor's appointment in London, reserved lodgings and plenty of money the UK Border Patrol were more concerned with:

• why I wasn't in America? 
• why I travelled alone?
• where did I live in Germany, Italy, USA? (seriously they wanted the addresses)
• if I visited the Middle East?
• how did I get money? 
• and why wasn't I in America (again)?
• why didn't officials stamp my passport?

Why? Because any single black man travelling outside of America must be on the run from the Law. He can't possibly be a writer. Black people don't "backpack". That much is true: We blackpack. After two hours I knew I wasn't going to London so I stopped cooperating. They wanted a fugitive and I am not that. After four hours of this extra "interviewing" the pig went through every content of my luggage; every piece of note paper...every page of book, including my diary...every item of toiletry...every snack...and he even counted out every single euro I had. This was not an "interview". It was a criminal interrogation.

Of course, to their chagrin, they found 

• zero contraband
• zero bomb schematics 
• zero drug paraphernalia
• zero outstanding arrest warrants or felony charges
• zero extra passports

Then they wanted to finger print me and archive them in a "visitor" database for a decade. Oh hell no! Prisoners are finger printed, not tourists...especially when  no one else in the course of that evening was removed from his bus, searched, and presented with an ink pad. But, of course, these racist pigs aren't racist! After seven hours - at midnight! - French police were called to escort me back to the French side where they left me on the sidewalk. No more buses were running so I was stuck in the dead of cold night in the middle of nowhere. 

So I missed my medical appointment and wasted lots of plans & money on travel reservations. I don't need to steal work from some British schmuck. I'm American! In fact, if the UK is so concerned with keeping their own employed they need to take back their limey asshole scum journalist Piers Morgan.

  

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Good morning, Mr President -- still

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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!)

 

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RULES OF TRAVEL

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Don't go tripping long distances without a microfiber travel towel (or very small regular towel) and Super Glue. The former is great as some hostels don't provide towels - or towels without a fee - and the latter is a you-never-know-when lifesaver. 

You can find more tips and backpacking lists at Ultimatepackinglist.com (see side panel)

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Micropenis

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I saw the below sign in the window of a, by all outward appearances, normal cafe in Charlottenburg. Wonderfully cheeky, don't you think? Pity the man who has this problem...I can't empathize with him but I do pity him.

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New Year 2013 (pics)

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 Yep that's the Brandenburg Gate behind me.

Countdown to the new year.... 

Berlin 2013

 Potsdamer Platz 'round midnight!

at Potsdamer Platz

more fireworks

  KaDaWe Department Store 

KaDaWe enormous Christmas tree

New Year's 2013

(notice the 'good luck' pig fob on my chain)

read about my New Year's Eve

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F**k the Mayan calendar

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I celebrated New Year's in Berlin.
In 2012 it was Istanbul. In 2011, Puerto Vallarta (I think). Started off the evening with jazz at the legendary jazz & blues bar in Kreuzberg, Yorckschloesschen. The place got crowded pretty quickly and the musicians - old dudes - put on a roaring good show. Every table was littered with party favors, including the German take on good luck charms: toy pigs and four-leaf clovers. I pinned one of the little ceramic piggies to my tuxedo!

here I am in 2013!!

Afterwards I set off for the big fireworks show at Branderburg Gate...but, not caring to relinquish my personal liquor bottles at the free entrance, I contented myself to walk around the city center and take in the spectacle of other celebrants. Lots of folks were cheering and toasting and setting off fireworks. Thankfully, the night was far from cold, too. Some guys were selling bottles of sekt (sparkling wine that's not from Champagne, France) to fund their buddy's New Year's honeymoon...so instead of giving money to strippers they were trying to earn a little. Ha! What the heck, I thought, and bought a bottle. Round midnight I was at Potsdamer Platz and, whoa, were there plenty of fireworks. Brandenburg Gate makes for a great backdrop but I all I cared about was seeing a long display of fireworks -- and lighting my Cohiba Cuban cigar...and toasting the new year with sekt...and Johnnie Walker whiskey...and well-wishing text msgs.


There were a few jerks who threw fireworks in places they should not have but, on the whole, everyone was in it for a good and safe celebration. And nearly everyone took a shine to my fedora and bow tie. I wanted to go dancing but, as it turned out, the rest of the night was spent having sex. And who wants to stand in line to get into a club where you can't move when he can more easily screw until the Sun comes up (and goes back down again)? Oh I do love my life.

And here I am in 2013!! Take that Mayan calendar! 

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