we awoke to the inevitability of sam a-cooking, make that much more intense by the fact that the three of us are attempting to start a fire American Indian style, by excitably grinding our legs together. Lovely lunch with mr Von bock, a great friend from central American ages past, chatting on largely anecdotally about the past 3 years we’d not seen one another. I have been a somewhat healthy eater during this trip – it seemed like germany with it’s less than stellar sausage, soda shops and ultrapasturized milk that needed not the crutch of refrigeration – was a perfect opportunity. I fall off the wagon spectacularly into the waiting arms of a bk double bacon burger that sits in my stomach like a renunciant Buddha for the remaider of Berlin. We get a budget 8 euro train ticket back to hamburg that extends the usual 90 minute trip to just over 5 hours of scenic darkness, arriving rainsodden and just minutes late for the last tube. 15 euros flayed from our irregilious posteriors and we arrive at the aparment for a late night, heavily be-pillowed game of who’s on my face?
Who’s on my face is only half the game. You forgot the “what’s in my mouth” part.