So, Kent and I are no longer currywurst virgins. Isn't this exciting?! (Slightly pathetic that after about 5 weeks in Germany we eat our first wurst. But no matter!) We toddled off to the end of our street the other night and had some biocurrywurst with biopommes and biomayo (because bio means that it's organic, and organic means that it's good for you ... right?).
I mean, just look at all of that biosauce - enriched with vitamins of the earth, that is. Needless to say, it was pretty biolicious, if a little heavy on the biosauce. Ok I will stop saying bio now. Bio bio bio!! Sorry. Had to get it out of my system.
oh - there was one fun experience while we waited for our currywurst. aside from the vendor telling me my german pronunciation was good, which chuffed me no end (show off), some random dick rocked up, a beer can in each hand and just stared right into my eyes. now, this dude was kinda like a metallica bonghead, circa '...and justice for all' era, hair to shame Axel Rose, and cut off denim jacket. no joke. anyway, he just starts dribbling bubbles of spit. like a baby. staring and dribbling spit. he got sick of staring me off, especially when i laughed, tried the same thing on with the poor cook, then got bored again and left. dribbling off into the sunset.
nutbox. And by dribble, Kent seriously means blowing raspberries type of dribbling, complete with spittle spray and little fart noises.
anyway - 'twas more confusingly hilarious than threatening and just added more experiential depth to the currywurst episode! In other thrilling news, we have taken some walks in the park
(we are an old married couple now, and that is what old married couples are supposed to do! you're really not selling this up very well lu. what we really did was embark on some photographic research, monitored seasonal adjustments in the local urban flora and perambulated a textual language of spatial experience upon a rapidly familiarising territory of physical knowing. kapow!
-woah, you really are the king of speak shit! I think I prefer my old lady walk thank you very much.),
visited the Jewish Museum, which sparked a large debate about going to places
because you want to or going because you think you should.
The space is quite spectacular
(more so now as I look back on Kent's stellar photography skills)
though very reminiscent of Fed Square (with more scrapes and dints
and other bits of crap on the walls that no doubt Kent will get stuck into.)
invitation accepted!
lame.
look, the architecture, on a macro level, was notable. on a micro level, horrid. cracked concrete floors, water stains running down the walls, windows broken, misaligned door frames and a build up of dust that would have only been surpassed by the tombs of the pharoahs (he was not happy). i dunno, i just thought the point of such a museum was for a reinforcement of our human capacity to notice what's going on around us. if you noticed the museum, you noticed shoddy maintenance and boring, isolating and disaffecting artifacts and displays. there's a million more arguments i could play out about it, but the public permanence of the digital discourse is not the place. you get my drift, i'm sure.
I think we both found that the experience was ever so slightly marred by the hoards of giggling, yelling, gum chewing hormone bomb exploding teenagers EVERYWHERE. Anyway, we had a customary teeter over the falling leaves exhibit, something I found very bizarre and uncomfortable, particularly watching tourists try and find an especially large head to stand on while being photographed by their companions. So Kent and I dealt with this the only way we know how: we ran away to have coffee. And it was sweet.
close up of the interactive falling leaves
ok ok ok - i'm always diplomatic.
coz there's always something of interest buried inside even the lamest things.
but, walking on a thousand iron cutouts of human-like faces? really?
and three stairs that go nowhere? i get the symbolism.
jesus, who couldn't. but, really? three stairs looked like a mistake.
why not an entire set of stairs? something to actually walk on.
it all just felt kinda kitsch and overloaded and seemed to actually push way too hard,
but without being hard enough - if that makes sense.
but then again, here we are, venting. and, as a result, thinking, analysing and remembering.
see, even inside the lamest things lie kernels of potential.
I mean, just look at all of that biosauce - enriched with vitamins of the earth, that is. Needless to say, it was pretty biolicious, if a little heavy on the biosauce. Ok I will stop saying bio now. Bio bio bio!! Sorry. Had to get it out of my system. oh - there was one fun experience while we waited for our currywurst. aside from the vendor telling me my german pronunciation was good, which chuffed me no end (show off), some random dick rocked up, a beer can in each hand and just stared right into my eyes. now, this dude was kinda like a metallica bonghead, circa '...and justice for all' era, hair to shame Axel Rose, and cut off denim jacket. no joke. anyway, he just starts dribbling bubbles of spit. like a baby. staring and dribbling spit. he got sick of staring me off, especially when i laughed, tried the same thing on with the poor cook, then got bored again and left. dribbling off into the sunset.
nutbox. And by dribble, Kent seriously means blowing raspberries type of dribbling, complete with spittle spray and little fart noises.
anyway - 'twas more confusingly hilarious than threatening and just added more experiential depth to the currywurst episode! In other thrilling news, we have taken some walks in the park
(we are an old married couple now, and that is what old married couples are supposed to do! you're really not selling this up very well lu. what we really did was embark on some photographic research, monitored seasonal adjustments in the local urban flora and perambulated a textual language of spatial experience upon a rapidly familiarising territory of physical knowing. kapow!
-woah, you really are the king of speak shit! I think I prefer my old lady walk thank you very much.),
visited the Jewish Museum, which sparked a large debate about going to places
because you want to or going because you think you should.
The space is quite spectacular
(more so now as I look back on Kent's stellar photography skills)
though very reminiscent of Fed Square (with more scrapes and dints
and other bits of crap on the walls that no doubt Kent will get stuck into.)
invitation accepted!
lame.
look, the architecture, on a macro level, was notable. on a micro level, horrid. cracked concrete floors, water stains running down the walls, windows broken, misaligned door frames and a build up of dust that would have only been surpassed by the tombs of the pharoahs (he was not happy). i dunno, i just thought the point of such a museum was for a reinforcement of our human capacity to notice what's going on around us. if you noticed the museum, you noticed shoddy maintenance and boring, isolating and disaffecting artifacts and displays. there's a million more arguments i could play out about it, but the public permanence of the digital discourse is not the place. you get my drift, i'm sure.
I think we both found that the experience was ever so slightly marred by the hoards of giggling, yelling, gum chewing hormone bomb exploding teenagers EVERYWHERE. Anyway, we had a customary teeter over the falling leaves exhibit, something I found very bizarre and uncomfortable, particularly watching tourists try and find an especially large head to stand on while being photographed by their companions. So Kent and I dealt with this the only way we know how: we ran away to have coffee. And it was sweet.
close up of the interactive falling leavesok ok ok - i'm always diplomatic.
coz there's always something of interest buried inside even the lamest things.
but, walking on a thousand iron cutouts of human-like faces? really?
and three stairs that go nowhere? i get the symbolism.
jesus, who couldn't. but, really? three stairs looked like a mistake.
why not an entire set of stairs? something to actually walk on.
it all just felt kinda kitsch and overloaded and seemed to actually push way too hard,
but without being hard enough - if that makes sense.
but then again, here we are, venting. and, as a result, thinking, analysing and remembering.
see, even inside the lamest things lie kernels of potential.
Spring is most definitely on its way (I know, I know, we keep saying that, mostly to convince ourselves I think) and is very similar to our Melbourne Autumn. This could also be due to the filter from my camera. It makes things so much more nostalgic and deceiving dammit! It was a shiny blue day! It was! omg, it is soooo coming. but man it's slow. we do harp on it, i know, but the trees here are like 98% deciduous, so they're skeletons. there's no colour anywhere. and i miss pairs of rainbow parakeets flying past, screeching. but there's green buds on the skeletons now and there's sparrows chirping and i'm nearly bursting out of my frozen, pasty skin in desperation!
Kent has new sneakers
Kent has new sneakers
And he is just loving the excellent Vampire novel Sarah sent us! See him swoon? I AM NOT READING THIS DRIVEL.
Whatever man, you lo-lo-lo-loooooove Vampire Teen Romance!
wow, that made me so angry i used capitals.
i never use capitals.
(it's heirarchical and un-democratic, btw)
Wife rolls eyes and sighs - get over it and stop wanking my post!
You know that when I get to posting pictures of creepy window content, I really have no news. We have to walk past this window every time we go to the Gesunderbrun (real name forgotten - i was gonna correct you lu, and put the correct name in, but i did that once before and i actually got it wrong, like a total twat, something about the ecker river, which was really the neckar. dick. plus, you got closer that i would have) train station. It's fucking scary. It is on the scary side of Prenzlauer Berg, the side that clearly has all the monsters, ghosts, and gangsters. (I have not seen any of said characters YET but the babies in the window say it all don't they? I mean look! There's LOTS and they are ALL in fluros! Why would somebody do that?!
omg - check out the weird sergeant doll in the middle, keeping them all in line.
dis.turb.ing.
More disturbing than you actually being able to SEE that from here? Ok I need my glasses.
And I have discovered that I am Roast King and am going to cook it every night.
Or, I am not. Because that would be boring. BUT it is delicious and the second attempt went spiffingly
and just LOOK at that steam! I know this photo is a bit grotty, but seriously, all the ones Kent took
(this one included) looked straight out of a Women's Weekly Dinner Party Cookbook 1981 -
I know you all know the ones I mean.
With all that special glaze, and glace cherries in ALL the wrong places.
And I can safely say that the bacon that we draped over the chook
(did you not get the reference to Women's Weekly yet?) was most definitely bioschinken.
Biotastic!
de.
lish.
us.
one more thing to add.
i am loving the beer sitch here.
(i know i know, 'sitch' is ridiculous)
a six-pack costs me $3.60 australian. six bottles of 500ml.
genius!
- but -
take the empties back to the store you buy them from,
get a refund for said bottles,
and it turns out that the actual cost of said six-pack, is...
$1.46 australian.
for 3 litres of beer.
I know - he has talked about this a lot. It is very exciting.
berlin.
i love you.
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