Kinky Blowfeld

Saw this across the spree while eating dinner at the Bar 25 restaurant. Dirty Kikiblofeld.

Badeschiff Open Air

So apparently the Badeschiff has been doing open air concerts regularly for some time. Went to see one with Vesna, my new tandem partner, and her friend Jenny who both have tattoos on their wrists. It is my theory that when they put them together their super powers activate. Below is a photo of this phenomena in action:

I was pleased to see they actually do let people swim until midnight. Can't be safe with all these werewolves around.
The place was pretty packed for the concert and I felt very bad for a friend of mine who was working the bar (thank gods most Germans stick to beers and not cocktails). I felt even worse for the audience who had to sit and listen to the cheesiest Deutsch band on the planet. Isn't it a crime in Germany to rhyme "Alles klar" with "wunderbar?" Please tell me they had to pay several hundred euros in order to say that... I wish I could remember their name so I could prevent you all from ever having to hear them play. The only redeeming thing about them was that their keyboardist had a rhinestone eye patch, which I think he actually (medically) had to wear. So kudos to that guy. I did take a picture so here you go. Pass this along to everyone you love and hold dear. Tell them to beware these false minstrels:

For those who don't know what the Badeschiff is, it is a pool on a boat which is on the spree near Treptower Park. There is sand and they have a couple Jailhouse Fuck Beds for you to sit on, as well as hammocks and beach chairs if they are not already taken up by hip indie moms nursing their hip indie babies. There is a bar and they sometimes serve bratwurts and potatoes when they feel like. Entry is hella cheap and free after 9? 7? I don't remember. http://www.arena-berlin.de/badeschiff.aspx

Also took a picture of the bathroom at Arena just because it was there, calling to me, and some photos of the red lights hanging overhead (there are like a hundred of these):

Oh and the half eaten whales. We love the half eaten whales.:

Bar 25 Attire

This is what I wore to Bar 25 on my 25th birthday. Trashy!

Germans Don't Date

A few days ago, miss Paula Varjack--ever with her finger to the pulse of pop culture-- sent me this:

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
And it got me thinking about the subject of German dating. To be honest, I've never seen two Germans on a date together. All the couples I see out in public have obviously been together for a while.
So I asked Brian's roommate Jahn about this and he says, "No, no we don't date."
"But you have sex, right?" I asked as a follow up.
"Yes."
"But then how do people wind up in relationships?"
"Well maybe you have sex a few times and then if you like someone you go out for a date."
I was stunned.
So then I asked my friend Mella about this and she confirmed it.
"No, you have sex first. That's how I met my last boyfriend. We had sex and then after we were having sex for a while we decided to start dating."
I was aghast.
"It's not like that in the states?" She asked.
"No," and then I proceeded to explain to her about how in the states you go on a date and the guy buys you dinner. You're not expected to put out AND you get free dinner. Then after 4 or 5 dinners, you maybe sleep with him.
"Really?" She asks.
"Yeah, of course. Although sometimes instead of just dinner you go to the movies or to clubs or something. Some guys don't pay for you but many still do."
"That sounds great!" She says. "I'm moving to America!"
...

Secret Club & Bi-curious Open Mouth Night

A couple days over-due. And with reason.

1. Saturday - 2 AM arrival @ Zementgarten located just foot steps away from the middle of f---ing nowhere / Lichtenberg. After wandering around dark streets lined in dilapidating apartment buildings for 10 min. am lucky enough to find boy on Ecstasy aimlessly searching for the sbahn. Wir fragen re: secret entrance to warehouse club. He points to an almost person-sized break in a sheet metal gate. Across huge former parking lot in dead warehouse city lit only by single street lamp we pull a security door. Enter moist, red dungeon of a squat party dotted in hippies dancing with drugs. Despite aversion to fusion music, manage to move feet significantly to the sounds of computers, vocoder, kazoos, and plastic bottles. Dragged butt home just shy of daylight.

2. Sunday - The Berlin poetry release of Paula Varjack aka: my friend sara from London / New York / & Washington DC- featuring: others. Others consist of: Germany's first "Mid-western mid-eastern blue grass band," a drunk girl who was supposed to MC but showed up halfway through the event to slur some words into a microphone, a British comedian whose jokes consisted mainly of using the words "cunt" and "crisps" in succession, and a band of Romanian minstrels dressed in druidic-looking robes. This madness (survived by no less than 2 gin and tonics) was followed by a trip to nearby 8 mm where the very bad man of a DJ encouraged sara's unruly throng to dance on chairs, have a make-out huddle, and sing along to "Roxanne." There was much making out between the girls and f*ing in the bathrooms, especially after my group converged with a gaggle of blond Danish 20-somethings who were impressed with our belligerence. I alone abstained and was subsequently told by the bartender that I didn't look like I was having a good time. 3 bottles of beer later I had made friends with everyone, but holding strong to my promise not to catch mono refrained from the all-girl tongue lashing. None-the-less, an Olympicly persistent Swedish girl insisted upon giving me her phone number and myspace "just in case I come to Stockholm for sexy orgy." Did not beat daylight on the long, cold bike ride home. And am still haunted by the memories.

Dirty German Bed Designers

Was innocently looking for bed frames when I came across this (warning not safe for work!!!):

http://www.etage7.com/product_info.php/info/p95_JAILHOUSE-FUCK.html

Journey To The Center of the Kit Kat Club

Okay, so Carlos and I had been joking for a long time about going to the Kit Kat Club- home of Berlin's most well-known, long-loved S&M /kink / fetishy-type szene. Although Carlos and I are certainly not leading each other around the house via dog collar or strapping each other to that awful 1990s couch in our boarding house, the Kit Kat Club has such tremendous noteriety that I figured, as new neighbors, going there was a necessary part of our initiation as Berliners.

(Above: Dresscode for the Kit Kat Club)
Firstly, let me say that I have never been to the Kit Kat's sister club in San Francisco- The Power Exchange, but I imagine the Kit Kat Club is a lot like it in certain ways. There were lots of naked people, lots of half-naked people, a few trannys, some people having sex upstairs, girls in their underwear, vinyl, leather, nurse costumes, cop costumes, and a plethora of odd decorations such as gynecology chairs and metal toilets strewn throughout the black, humid interior. The walls were painted in elaborate blacklight sensitive murals with men, women, and everything in between partaking in a myriad of activities in the "done while naked" category. After I got over the initial shock of seeing nude, untethered penis flopping this way and that I realized that most of the clientele were actually pretty respectful of each other's space. Of course there were two things that helped with this. A) Most of the men there were gay men, and B) there were a great deal of couples dotting the dance floor. I never once had anyone try to grab me, or even hit on me, although I can't say the same of Carlos who is like a bunny at the dog tracks to clean cut gay men and trashy goth girls. Another thing- the music was quite good, resident DJs DramaNui (sassy redhead) and Clark Kent (butch gay extraordinaire) spinning a mix of electro, mashup, and techno that wasn't too cheesy or too eclectic, but frightfully danceable. I was a little disappointed to find only two dance floors as the Kit Kat Club recently took over the notorious Sage Club (which used to have 4 floors of banging techno with a pool in the middle from what I hear) but this is the nature of the unstoppable metamorphosis that is the Berlin club scene. We arrived at 2 and left sometime around 5, needing to escape the unbearable humidity, not to mention rest our feet and morals. I can't say I'm planning on becoming a regular, but could certainly see myself wandering in here on one of those nights that needs more craziness or leather men.