I return to pergamon museum, but this time I receive an audio guide to the treasures, vastly enriching the experience and the concurrent foot aches associated with standing for so long in a spot. Brilliant to realize exactly what the goddess wields on the frieze, the name of the vanquished giant and the half mortal Hercules, the battles fulcrum. We wander through museum island, and have soup after a prolonged ogle at a soviet whiskey flask. Sam continued his foray into food, a welcome crepery waking to the birthday of robekkahs, and doling out a mighty portion of birthday dry humps, circus style. Christiane and robekkah have deputized my stomach their personal portable central hand heating device to my dismay, which speeds mu reflexes some…chris did point out a goodyear blimp floating outside the window and duly thrust her hands under my shirt when i turned to see. Turns out berlins a bit thin on blimps, or theyre the disappearing kind, because i saw nothing beyond the dust dry foliage and buildings fecund with grafitti.
