If it's not Raven, it's crap...

"'Cause we're movin on up...to the east side...to a dee-luxe apartment, in the sky." Fuck Altbau Fuck the high ceilings, fuck the stupid wall mouldings, fuck the steep, winding staircases... I don't care if it's pretty (which is usually is)...it's just not that practical for me.* From here on out, if you live above the 3rd floor in an Altbau -style building (yes, I realize that is redundant), then we cannot be friends.** This applies to any new people that I meet. It's my new friendship requirement from here on out. Current friends, you have my permission to continue to residing where you are. Should you at some point move, feel free to move to a lower floor...but I suppose I'll let it slide if you decided to "move on up" (especially if you go with the renovated Altbau ). The sad part is that I think the older-style buildings look nice. Really, really nice. And to be honest, it's mostly the stairs that bug me, because like one flight

Sorry, but there's not a hell of a lot of things that you can to a picture in MS Word. Note 1: You should know in advance that this is a long entry with only one picture (namely one you see above). You're gonna have to click the "Hot Fiyah" link. There's a good possibility that you won't even be amused by the anecdote. So, if you want, you can just stop reading now and take a gander at Forbes' list of America's Drunkest Cities and see in how many different pictures you can spot the Mulatto-lookin' chick with the glasses. At the beginning of the month, I moved out of the apartment at 117a, where I was living with Schmiddy and Bepple and into a new apartment in the Barmbek-area of Hamburg. Doing so, I not only gained a fresh perspective on things, but also a cool new roommate, henceforth known as Seven . Nothing against the boys, but some times you just gotta shake things up, you know? Seven and I get along quite well, but we couldn

Now that's a spicy meatball Döner Kebap. It's the food we all know and love. If you don't know it, then it's the food you should give a try, because odds are you will most certainly love it (unless you're some kind of retarded-ass vegetarian -- no offense). However, if you do know about Döner and still don't love it, then you are either A.) eating at shitty Döner-Buden or B.) a former singer in a defunct Boy'Girl Band who's afraid of "tainted" tzatziki.* If either of the above are applicable to you, never fear...it's not your fault. Well, if the latter one is true, then that is kind of your fault (the popstar part, at least). You have to keep in mind that you are always taking a risk when going into an unfamiliar Döner shop. However, if you are loyal to "The Cause" (which is similar to, but not the same as "The Revolution"), then you've got to take a few for the team when in search of that dönery-goodness. In the

I feel like I've been really neglecting my precious online journal the last few weeks. However, I'm not without my excuses: 1.) My roommate has been producing tracks like mad crazy and it's not like I'm gonna go be like, "Hey...you mind if I blog a bit?" 2.) Wonfuzius , André and Buche have yet to figure out how to get a computer to me...or parts of different computers all stuck together to make one mega computer...I don't care as long as it works and has Paint Shop on it...and you guys carry it up the stairs.* 3.) I've been in high-gear, "Hey, let's try not getting deported this month"-mode. Although that's actually kinda winding down. Cross your fingers. This weekend was -- all in all -- a little bit of alright. Beer flowed; meat was grilled and consumed; it rained; I went to, got lost at, and eventually gave up on Welt-Astra-Tag (World Astra Beer Day). I discovered that my roommate has some kind of (unintentional?) outreach prog

Cupcake came to visit me in Hamburg about a week and a half ago -- thus winning the much-coveted honor of being the first person to stay overnight in my new apartment. Granted, it was only a 24-hour visit and I was a very shitty tour guide ( Cupcake : Brooksy, what's that building over there? Lebrookski : Uh...beats me. Looks significant though, doesn't it?) Despite my incompetence, she seems to have enjoyed herself and I couldn't be any happier. I think the following passage pretty much sums up the type of experience you would have if you came to visit me: ...perhaps the most treasured memory I have is Friday morning at 9:00am when Brooks kindly accompanied me to the Hauptbahnhof. We were riding the subway when she said to me in English, "So, it's too bad you weren't awake last night around 1:30 when the pimp stopped by." At this point, the German woman sitting across from us got up and changed her seat. What can we learn from this? That American music a

"How the fuck you expect me to rhyme if I can't talk?! Nigga, I'm thirsty!" Before I left for Germany, André asked me if I wanted to record the English voice over narration for the DVD for the airplane project that he'd been working on since way back in the day when the air was made out of wood (and thus not very conducive to air travel). I figured, "Why the hell not?" -- because I'm not only (a) the best friend that anyone could ever ask for ever (anddontyouforgetit), but also (b) a gigantic egomaniac. Pass up a chance to get my name briefly seen and my voice heard by millions (of aerospace engineers)?! Never! So, this past Monday I found myself at a fancy-schmancy audio recording studio (with the analog boards and a sound booth and everything). All of a sudden, I felt like I was waaay out of my league. I know, know...I did that radio show thing...and hung out at a studio in OKC a lot...and I'm currently writing this entry in my roommate'

Aziz Ansari is a fuckin' bad ass I don't have anything to write. Over the weekend, I moved into a new apartment. I have some pictures that I hope to eventually post, but I don't wanna do it right now. Pictures of random shit, not of my new place. I promise I will have some more content soon. Really, it's not for lack of things going on in my life. I mean, last Friday I had a great time kickin it with Franzi and Marco who drove up from Köln (pardon me, I mean Cologne ) for the weekend...and somehow convinced me to go with them to Thomas Read (aka Shitty Irish Pub/Club). At one point in the evening, it hit me like a ton of bricks -- I was in Thomas Read (of all places) whilst just maybe a few hundred(?) meters down the road, Mirko Machine was DJing. Ouch. Anyway, there was that...and the whole moving thing...and Cupcake's coming tomorrow. So, there's definitely plenty to write about, I just mostly don't feel like typing it all on a Mac. However, I will