Everybody needs a Hobby

Well, peeps, it's been a hard week. Just got through cleaning out my apartment, and bribing my landlady with a large, just to get the hag off my back. Plus, I'm trying everything in my power not to have to paint the place. It's 92 square meters of cold bareness, with 3 meter walls. I'm not exactly sure what that is in real measurement units, but it ain't small.

Moving house in Germany is a major pain in the ass. You take absolutely everything in the apartment with you. The lights, the kitchen sink, the shower-head, even the kitchen counter and cabinets. You'll need them, too, because whatever shit-hole apartment you wind up moving in to next will have been stripped like a Benz in Five Points. It's a pathetic sight, an unoccupied apartment. They don't even have closets over here, for some reason. You have to have a shift-or-robe in your possession, or you'll be stacking your unmentionables in the living room in front of God and everyone. I sold my shift-or-robe for smokes over a month ago, so in case anybody wants to see real-life boxers with red hearts and little glow-in-the-dark x's and o's, just come on over; they're sitting over there next to the playstation.

There are advantages to moving, though. My Zippo fell out of an old jacket as I unpacked it. That thing's been missing now for 2 years, and I'd sworn I'd never buy another one since I can't keep up with them. Score!

Now playing in iTunes:

The Sex Fiends from the album "Poems And Insults" by Charles Bukowski