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

Speaking of birthdays... This is Dr.U.G. at a Quik-E-Mart in Los Angeles with one and only Homer Simpson. Not only is she one of the smartest people I've ever known in my life, but she's also one of the most awesome people I've ever known in my life. She taught me how to string a bunch of motherfucking, cock-sniffing, asscunt obscenities together. Ok, whatever, she's still better at it than I am. It's pretty amazing, I tell you. She's the Malaysian Sensation. Today, she turns 27 and will forever hold a place in my heart as my oldest and dearest friend -- not literally "the oldest" -- but I mean, like I've known her longer than I've known any of you. 21 years, yo. Tequila Gold, anyone? We've gone through quite a bit together over the years. She's family by now and I just want to wish her all the best for her birthday. Love you, V.

This post may or may not become a moot point in a few weeks (here's hoping for "not", by the way *cross yo fingaz*). Anyhow, this year I'm turning 27 on the 27th of April. As fate would have it, my birthday is also on a Sunday this year -- which makes a Saturday/Sunday affair kind of, well, optimal -- so, I'm kind of toying with the idea of doing something special. Like celebrating in a type of rented space, rather than at home to make everyone want to dance more and perhaps partake in some karaoke...with out fear of the neighbors calling the Polizei and then said Polizei busting in during your heart wrenching rendition of AC/DC's "Back in Black". The problem is that...well, as my father used to say, "What you do think I'm hiding some kind of Euro printing machine up in the attic?!" Except replace Euro with the appropriate American currency (whatever they happen to be calling it these days...is it still skrilla? I'm so out of the l

"I heart money" One of the first questions people tend to ask me after finding out that I'm from the States is: "Which is better, Germany or the U.S.?" Oh how I wish they wouldn't. To me, it's like asking, "What's your favorite cut of beef?" That's tough to answer, because I just fucking love meat. As long as it tastes good, right? My grandmother from Trinidad used to live with us in Oklahoma City and one time she spent the better portion of a day cooking up a delicious stew. When it was done, she served it up and it was pretty bomb. Curiosity got the best of me and I asked what was in it. She was all like, "Cow tongue. And diverse vegetables." I mean, I kind of regretted asking after she told me, but I won't deny that it was pretty effin tasty, which is kind of my roundabout way of saying that I don't really have a preference. It's not like I moved here as some kind of big political statement. I just wanted to. Bu

I find it quite difficult to justify/explain the gaps between posts. Sometimes it can be attributed to laziness, but most of the time it’s due to the seemingly unending string of unbelievably un-fun shit that we here at the offices of "It’s Not Raven, It’s Crap" are forced to deal with. And, of course, when I say "we" I mean "me" and when I say "offices" I again mean "me perched atop my bed" – cause yeah, still no desk over here. Always keeping my loyal reader(s?) in mind, I feel like I don’t want to burden you all with my semi- and/or full blown crises. My blog is a happy place and a peek behind the scenes will only serve to demonstrate that – oh my god – you should just never try to do anything ever, as a complete and total failure is really the only likely outcome of your efforts. Also, I don’t want really want to read any "Gee, that super sucks" comments. I mean, sentiments are nice and all, but I am usually more than ful

Everyday Normal Guy 2 on FunnyOrDie.com Sometimes life just up an takes you by surprise... and when I say "you", I mean "me" I don't know what's scarier: The "surprisingness" of the events or the fact that I kinda saw it all coming and that I'm not really all that surprised at all. Here's looking at one door closing and another one opening....

Now it's completely official. Here's the last picture that I needed for my photo scavenger list. Number 7: Someone walking into a trap. It's a victory that cannot be taken from me. I don't think that I have to reiterate how much I fucking hate the Lidl in the Altona train station. ( Click Below for More ) I went there Friday morning on my way to work, because once a month we have a little company breakfast and I pick up all the stuff we need. It was like maybe 8:15am and the place hadn't even been open for that long, but it was already kinda busy. When I got to the register and paid -- I accidentally forgot to get the receipt, which is kinda key for stuff like, you know, getting reim-fucking-bursed. It dawned on me 5 seconds later, so I turned around and went back to the register and tried to ask the lady working there for the receipt. Except she wouldn't look at me and just kept saying, "Just a sec, just a sec." Ten customers later, she finally ackno

Workwise, today sucked balls. In fact, just about this whole week sucked balls at work. I'm not trippin though, because sometimes work just sucks and you can't do nothin about it. Still, it's tough on those days where work is pretty much unbearable and you come home thinking, "Dang man, I need to hit up Monster.com." Making things even worse, today is not only Friday (a day when I actually get to go home while there's still daylight), but also one of the rare beautiful Hamburg weather days. I didn't want to come home all salty and shit -- but that's what the fates seemed to have in store for me. So, I've decided to take matters into my own hands. The way I see it... if you're feeling like a loser, the only way to turn these proverbial lemons into lemonade is to make yourself the winner of something. As luck would have it, I happened to be in the midst of a photo scavenger hunt contest with The Boy . Originally, we didn't intend for this to

I found and amusing video, which I wanted to post. But to understand it, you're gonna have to watch this one first. That's the funny thing about context... Odds are, if you're based in the States, you've probably already seen it. It's the will.i.am/Obama video. You may or may not have seen it, if you're somewhere else: Did you get the gist of it? Great, good for you. Now, check out this parody: Via: Poplicks.com Carry on. *= This is me, pluggin yo ish , D !

First off, put your hands down if you work for Airbus or an Airbus supplier. No seriously...hands down. I wanna take some time to talk about a problem I've been having at work. It's neither (in the grand scheme of things) radical nor exciting, but as of late it has been weighing heavily on my mind. You see, I am "the voice" and, more frighteningly, "the face" of FHHM . What I mean by this is that when you call the main FHHM number, you have to speak with my non-German native speaker ass (and no, not literally my ass...but figuratively. Grow up, Schmidt) . And when you drop by for a visit, I'm typically the first person you see and one that explains, "Well, actually, the doorbell is located above key entry code pad." Also, I tell you that the reason we have a key entry code pad is because we want to keep all of our top secret rap information out of the hands of evildoers. I am the office manager, yet...I am so much more. (?) I am a vital cog in

It's about 10am on a Saturday morning. I'm usually still kickin in it bed around this time, but I had to go pee. Schmidt , on the other hand, has probably been awake since like 5am, because apparently he thinks we live on a damn dairy farm. On my way to the bathroom, I briefly glanced to my right and what I saw -- well...you can see it too. It's the picture at the top of this post. It's Schmidt , sitting at his desk watching Twin Peaks with a blanket on his head. Naturally, I busted out laughing. And Schmiddy , without removing aforementioned blanket from his head or even turning to address me, says, "Go ahead Brooks, laugh it up. Take a picture and post it on your blog. But I have to do this because we don't have any curtains!" Duh...I could have told him that like 10 months ago when we moved in. I went ahead and took a picture as well...because it was just too good. Then I went to the bathroom. Afterwards, I laughed at him again. But because I know that

This is probably my favorite picture of me from this past weekend. Blue sky, my hair blowing in a light breeze and it looks like I’m wearing the Berlin TV tower as a party hat. I mean, other than that last little tidbit...I look pretty dang cute. Last weekend I went in Berlin, and spent the time Berlining it up with The Boy . Sorry, people who live in Berlin or who may have been in Berlin at the same time as me, but who I did not have the foresight to contact beforehand. My apologies to Benny and Kerstin , both of whom I informed at the last minute, then flaked out and cancelled. And, lastly, a big sorry Supa D. , because I haven’t actually called her for awhile although I’ve been meaning to, but things happen and I forget. I didn’t get in touch with her this time around because I figured 1.) she’d be doing her Politaoke art stuff in the public spaces of Weimar (and whatnot) and 2.) the trip was a bit of a compromise that enabled me and The Boy to meet up after a month of not seeing