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

Sometimes, I can't write about a certain situation or event in my blog, either because (1) it's not the type of information that I want to disclose on the internets or (2) see number one. I've created this special heading so that it's clear to everyone that what I'm talking about here is really not exactly what I'm talking about at all-- like the name says, it's just a shitty metaphor for something else. Do with it what you will... My brother Remy and I used to play this game. Actually, it really wasn't ever a "game" in the purest sense. It was more like Remy would take a running start from somewhere and then pounce on me while my back was turned and shout: "Free piggy-back ride!" My "little" brother is nearly an entire foot taller than I am and even before he spent his days drinking beer and lifting weights, he was just a real solidly-built kid. There was no "piggy-back ride", there was only the sound of me shou...

Papa Schmidt arrived in Hamburg on Friday evening. He wanted to come on Thursday, but I convinced him otherwise, because—even though he is a one-of-a-kind fellow—I was unsure of how/if I was going to be able to survive his company for four days. However, the thing about Papa S. that some of you may not know is that he is some kinda freaking evil genius…because even when you try to outfox him, he will find some way around it. I found this out when he announced shortly after his arrival that he intended on staying until Tuesday. I shaved off one day—he added two more. That’s just how P. Schmiddy rolls, mayne… The way I figure it, Papa Schmidt is about seven different types of what I’m going to call "Old Man Crazy". Don’t misunderstand me, it’s really a term of endearment. If I were, for instance, to call him a "Crazy Old Man"?! Now, that would be a whole 'nother thing altogether. Old Man Crazy: has nostalgic flashbacks of days past, when people were honest, ha...

Hey boys and girls, This is just a quick note to let you know that I am indeed still alive. Word on the street is that internet is arriving next Friday...that's actually more like the "word from Schmidt via text message from France to my cell phone" -- but whatever. However, you might not have to wait that long for an update, as I have a few tales to tell about my first week in the Greatest Apartment of All-Time...and I don't want them to be all irrelevant by next week. In the meantime, I gotta get this wrapped up and get back to the aforementioned awesome apartment.... Papa Schmidt is coming to town (to visit me...you hear that, Schmidt ?! Bwah-ha-ha...I'm stealing your dad!!!). We might go to Lübeck... If I play my cards right, I think I could trick him into signing the adoption papers by tomorrow night Egg-salad....

Schmidt is almost done taking apart his cabinet and I want to see if I can finish this post before he does. The two of us tend to wax philosophical about the most ridiculous things sometimes. Like, for instance, the similarities between the theme song to Chip and Dale's Rescue Rangers (or Chip and Chap auf deutsch) and the theme song to MacGyver -- you know, the important stuff in life. This evening we were at our new apartment finishing up the floor, when I had to take a quick potty break. When I came out, he asked, "Hey, why don't women ever put down the lid to the toilet seat?" I looked at him questioningly, unsure if this was a test, riddle, accusation or rhetorical question of some sort. So I'm like, "What are you talking about, Schmidt ?" And he's like, "I've just noticed that women never seem to put down the lid to the toilet seat. I just think that if a lid is made for something, then it seems dumb not to use it." "Oooo...

Toby , everyone's favorite Paderborner and owner of the blog Gib mir 3 1/2 Minuten , turned a year older today. Sorry, I don't think I will make it to evening drinks, but I wanted to tell you happy birthday all the same. I was going to make a playlist for you, but couldn't find all the songs I wanted to put on there. So, I just made a super-mini-playlist consisting of only one song. It's perfect for a guy who's doing the low-key birthday celebration thing. The problem with a one song playlist is that you really only have that one chance to get it right. If you don't, then it's like my niece Gabi said to me once, "You're mean and you wuined my burfday forwever!!!" She tends to overreact, but I think you get what I'm saying. Any-hoo, Tobs , we salute you. And when I say "we", I mean "I". Even though I'm sure others salute you as well, I'm just not going to let them piggy-back on my birthday wishes. Have a good one...

Well, my birthday weekend was a success. I say that like I really sort of had a hand in planning it that way. I have officially entered into the last year of my mid-twenties. It's a little bit of alright. First off, I wanna say thanks to all the people that sent me birthday wishes via phone, text message, email, in my blog comments, Facebook, StudiVZ, Myspace and in person. The messages made me feel pretty awesome. Secondly, for those of you asking for an address, I'm gonna send out a big group email soon (let's call "soon" - "tomorrow"), so let me know if you don't get an email from me, because that would be a good indicator that I don't have your email address. Thirdly, starting this weekend, I will be offline for awhile...depending on how long it takes for the internet to show up at the new apartment. This could be a few months. Until then, new updates will be sporadic. Last but not least, thanks to the people that got me presents, even though...