понедельник, 22 октября 2007 г.


The time crumbled as the Spekulatiuskekse, with the Ada zeitgeluptem equanimity in the dairy coffee dunks, before her on the desk by the blue striped cup floats. A crumb quits. The Umruhrlöffel turns his rounds, trying it out again to fish. Since hours staring at the screen. Where letters actually cheerfully and sensibly in series tumbling, wider still a surprisingly white emptiness. It may not fill. They sips at the cup. Lighter her addiction. Blame a cigarette between his lips. Umwölkt. Loses in blaudunstigen scraps. The new drive has not. Suddenly!

The water glass next to her coffee cup. Given what is suggested. Bubbles bubble, small strudel begin to swirl the glass trembles. Klappert on the tabletop. Krack! It will burst. The mass mutters. Whispering. Verdickt doped to jelly. By itself into a clump.

"Huh! Ada! , "She murmurs.

Ada swallows at their cigarette smoke and dusty coughs.

"I am's, the Wasserstrolch."

Ada begins again.

"And? That is still no reason my water glass kaputtzudeppern the whole desk wet, and to me in my well-deserved rest after lunch to disturb! "

"After lunch rest? Hihi. Die Zeit. Die Zeit. It runs you off. And you schlurfst with Angel's face behind her as if they were a Limpet! "

"If I do with my time than anyone wants to philosophize, I do in the seminar. Why studier 'because I Philo? "

"What you seem not knew is that chastises that their expensive life permanently vermplempern rather sensible use of haunted me. From me to the weekly, halszuschnürend hurgelnden, bubbling Wasserstrolch. I umfließe and enclose you! Zerre with you wild waves swirling water down into my damp Reich, durchwühle you with icy waters, durchspüle you with salty water, schleudere you through my dark cave where you Barfüße to the tiny stalactites inside, where your struggling for air. I am the revenge of neglect period. "

Ada swallows. Lightning quick snaps it for a new cigarette, and brings them to glow hectic. It is now clear to the nerves. If they do crazy? Fully plemplem?

But the sopping glitschglupschige entity inhabited again with pergamentpapierzerknitterndem timbre: "I am the Wasserstrolch!"

Ada boldly friemelt a large handkerchief from her handbag and pressed it with lots on the Wasserstrolch. It zuppelt and flounders. Only angry and alive. Then only weakly. Eventually it ends. It bears the full handkerchief in the kitchen and wrings it over the sink. "Your home in scope with you, Wasserstrolch!" , She hisses, grabs a cup of coffee, puts together her ashtray onto the bed, smokes and scrapes on the chin graceful.

The summit of Kohl?

Meter by meter kraxelten it up. The air was thin, breathing heavier. The toes were frozen klammblau matches. And with all these nagging doubts remained whether it is in fact not a glacier but a cauliflower, whose summit they were to climb.

Man camping deutsh

Schlapp. Schlapp. Sandals fold between hoes and asphalt back and forth. Abdominal mass wuppert in time for the steps under the checkered knit vest. Karl-Heinrich shuffles puffing from the laundry room. Schlapp. Schlapp. His forehead glistens. Weld into old, the temple down, entangled in silvery hair wreath. He is soon soaked. The few remaining hairs are key in thick strands across the head combed. Does full then.

Remember to wash hands. Are bad but also cleaned the sink. The campsites in Germany are cleaner. But with cleaning hamses abroad not too. Except in Singapore. As you pop se yes, wennde ne Kippe auffen curb throw. The foreigners in general is rather strange. But beautiful areas ham se da, where he resides.

He rubs at the left eye socket. In the eye sees it is not much more. Aggravated evaluating distances when driving. Yes, but you must not tell each. Produces only unrest.

Schlapp. Schlapp. Back to the caravans. A little wind today. The flag dangles slow down. Schwarzrotgoldenes crape fast. He plops in his chair in the tent camp. There, he sits still and monitored the abgezirkelten Wegstreifen in his field of vision. One must also know what is going on. The Dutchman sneaks over. Ne cheese, the skin, yellow, sort of milky and depressed. And other würd So I never know. Nee. In life nich. Senfiges hair and mustache wie'n dead dove-tail. Kähähä. Was probably a wash. His wife würd I was told. Washing. This is not men work! When is probably eh hop and. Helps eh nix.

His sack itches. Again. Karl-Heinrich scrapes. At least for the next few minutes toddles the itching. Well, as long as there are no blind rats. Molli, bring even beer, cigarettes, lighter and ashtray nen out.

He thinks. His thoughts shimmer in the boring colors of the world. Oh, there's the Dane. What does the tractor but it'sa runs. When driving with his nen hochtuckert mountain, but all the outdated Nudibranch behind him and no one can foresee what rußigem smoke. Betting, which must be every other week cleaning his caravan so that nobody thinks that the front would be deleted black? And ever. The woman has also not under control. The beer bottles from yesterday are still auffer sitting area outside. And what the squeaks, wennse the building. Sowas burn me not translated Watt ordinary lubricating oil, which is also not know. Beer. Oh. Molli, watt is nu? Should I have to get moldy, or the slow times what?

His wife is trainingsbehost peels from the caravan interior. She is a good woman. Hard. Neatly. Bügelt preens and without that you always have to say. She likes her husband Somehow. She has also married him. That is now also have ne while ago. Probably she was also in love with him. Whether and how, they do not know more precisely. Yes, the memory fades with time. That is now also have ne while ago. And there also worse than Blömelskötter hot.

Karl-Heinrich pushes the Pinte, the uvula to damp. But nothing goes over a cool beer. Foam from the crown caught in yesterday mustache. He pushes a harvest in 1923 under the hair Busch round between the lips. Where is the lighter? Molli, but I have said. Oh, da. I thought 'already. Tastes like always. Only hard to get in France, the Dinger. Do you always carry several rods when one away. The smoke here so strange herb. Frenchman-an association of dance teachers. Ouioui. Gay language. Besides wine, a baguette and Straps in ballet rumhüpfen may also not much.

Once again the Dutchman. Assuming a walk with his wife. That should invade Molli times. What women always walking? Just like the looks lubricates the ever double thick butter on your bread. Schlumpige Fettschwampe. Funny geschrägtes, siruppiges hatse face. Schmoddergraubräunliche grimace. But peacock eyes. Does away. And just smash them. Und'n ass wie'n ocean steamer. Kähähä. And he Manuf When Sofaschoners my soul! What I'ma wimp. Can certainly rumschubsen. If, as if 'it does nothing in the leaden. What does limp sausage. What comes since then? A Pole? Sowas leave here on the square?

With God, there is a yes Pils in the neck sour, as one can do. Well, if the next to us. The werd ich. Yes. The show, I, on which side the bread is gebuttert. And the Leeraner since. Tits on the Komische eagle on its flag. And since when is the German flag below land blue? Where Are's no ordinary yellow color? Leer, where is it? The French always reads newspapers. Terrible. Smartass. Perhaps even at the reception only foreign. Bring sure even his grandmother, how to duck milks. If I have nothing in German wars, I will buy nothing. It should be simple to the whole world to learn English. Then ham, we are no language problems. I always tell's gutted. But listen to me yes eh kei.

Before louder excitement he nearly burns the fingers on his stump ollen cigarette. Where is actually the ashtray. My dear Kukuschinski, Molli. Irgendwatt vergisstse always. Can you still get smooth the fleas.

He ascht on the lawn. When there's really eating? Soon Is 17:30. What? The next door to invite us to a restaurant? Why did I get an extra menu for three weeks? Today is Erbsuppe turn.

Karl-Heinrich coughs. Pus clashes. He spits in his pale pink cloth handkerchief. Here in the restaurant War I but eh just weird cheese, fried frogs or any birds that are in übermenschengroßen table tennis nets afoul. Baloney with sauce and raisins. Nee thank you. On something I do not admit grilled fart nich. Moreover, the stern today in television. Let's see, I datt the satellite dish until then returned to running gekricht hab.

Only once have the conscious soap

I poured myself mayonnaise on the plums, because I thought it would be sour cream. Mackerel they called me. Baloney with spinach! Why is Horatio lodestar to a beautiful jun? Reduced finger prove to be too cheerful for tingling old woman's room. Anne pick, Flo finger - but can you blame's? Let us water. Hello, Central! These slightly überkandidelten Wives! Women beschenken philistine with speed pills. A true meteorites hail, should the think? The sophist puts the überkandidelten Helena fillip. It is now on the obstetric unit. The stuff from the bosom of intellectual Silberschimmers. Meanwhile crunch Spartans jaw with teeth, while the favorite to Ithaker Pen. From the night sleeping hochgeschreckt and black panthers. That shot. A nun yet to be invented the barbed wire. The moon. He has forgotten Hamlet. The idea that the guy that pays is the best sauce in the world. A polished period. Impromptu. Rhymes and sense: pace, piace, tace. Ominös for him! Some guy, the ground-cold burns. Fear is free juices, which makes the meat really tender. Always outside the lampposts. It is enough that any day ... Links to past days. And instils in the entrance of my ear ... You can! Kyrie eleison. ? ? ? An opera by Balfe sounds in the original as well as the railroad. Verlorne thing. Memories of memorable battles. What always Wetherup said.

From the series "Band names for their invention, unfortunately, I came a little too late am today:

"The flaring vacuum"

The said

In the midst of quite suddenly, I see his face geflunschtes. The said. Once he sat with me in the Latin course, late at the university rang me with the ablativus absolutus down. His skin is pale become shimmers like tofu. He shuffles cumbersome, even listlessly at the large stone archway. Right hand it to the freshly painted seminar rooms. He seems cold; His nose lights up like a light bulb savings. Then he sees me.


"Hi! Pronunciation, you so years I have not seen! Studierste yet? "

"Hmjoamnstudier now intestinal flora." Dachte I have heard. Said he: "Hmjoamnstudier now Daf (*) nor, indeed." Maybe I should too much rock music krachender worried about my ear? Perhaps he also remains simply said.

* Daf is the abbreviation for "German as a foreign language", since as I know.


Sometimes surprised me the perception of me in the eyes of other people. Especially the subliminal. For almost out of the blue told them, especially in the Vienna weilt me without context:

A: "I did so last night dreamed that you sent me a packet did."

B: "I hope there were only famose things in it?"

A: "There was lots of stuff in it - a 74 € more expensive Indian curtain and a half bottle of high C."

Wurst Case Scenario (II)

Lead gray shimmer the temples of product designers, with more than eye-edges and undermined-slung they creep through the headquarters. All quarrel with the destiny. There should be a new coup, the market place was exactly planned. And suddenly there's gammliges because chicken meat from the Cloppenburger country, a lot Vogelg (e) and the MovieJack hartbittere Recognizing that the people currently on probably much more hungry than on their new poultry dry sausage-and whether and how hearty, strong. .. and well, and now they taste like.

"So nice," he says, "na beautiful. Has no value, the apple picking, if you do not want to know how it tastes. "

Sampler Exchange

I am thrilled how much pooling, good taste in music is here on a visit. And, as in the commentary on the sound autumn article suggested, the idea came to me, a small, fine, new sampler-County to launch. What with the actions of Mr. Poodle in spring already too exciting results, it could now once again shine and fresh.

The idea is simple. A small, solid circle of interested and taste each gets the full addresses of all the other participants, presented his partial-here already written sampler for all other once, and she sends them. And he gets it from all other post with their own sampler. And-poof! - Has a colorful bounty of excellent sampler, whose beady gentle melancholy sounds of clinking to indulge. Frl.Fuchs, Burns, Calvin, ongoing, no single case, French Kiss and also to all others ... How about? Or even like autumn of hip-hop MC? !

In what is missing Wulnikowski

"Ingratitude is the worlds wage, soon twisted itself thanks to Hohn, muttering Wulnikowski through his dry lips, while his embittered glance through the curtains slurred from the kitchen window drills. For a moment amused him his own seal of Fort truism. And almost shrugs a playful smile on his mouth angle. But it fails, crashes, becomes horrible grimace. Vergiftetes silence stretches back through his cramped kitchen like a giant fishing net, which is only a short curses his brummelnden tear open. Outside drops daylight and slanting sharply as a razor blade and cut the houses asunder. On the curb tugs and a pigeon pecks listlessly in a sardine bread bark around the stray cats are left.

"Ever, cats! Mistviecher Drat! Säuselschnurrende gang traitor! Undankbares Kackbratzenpack! "Wulnikowskis blood hustles, seething, simmering, boiling, boiling, makes his temples before puckern anger. Emotional fire breaks out in him, crackles, carbonized him from the inside, leaving biting stench, zähklebrig chared, bitterschmeckende emotional-ash.

But no fire extinguisher is palpable.

"If I get this cursed Scheißgeschöpf again manage these spitzohrige frying pan nose, I rip her dazzling eyes out, they thawed and spring with my rubber boots on her triefenden Matsch around, zerfetze her intestines, her rupfe individually from each claw, burn their skin in blazing flames, blasting her legs broken, break their bones individually and each ram they smash into marble stone floor! "

He looks at the table edge past connected to his feet and begins to sob. Low buries his face in his hands. Tears cheeks in streams down his cheeks.

Had he "Lulu" but only to be never left. When he returned from shopping, they had him on the zebra crossing umschnurrt. He waited for a bremsendes car. With their eyes schneeschmelzenden had it fully sincere sorrow blinked at, heart-sweet gemaunzt Ome and her coat on his trousers geschubbert. Immediately, he fell in love with it. She was completely emaciated. Twinking he wanted them. And that he had also done so. He had to go home to be taken care of for them, they stroked, fed, beschmust.

And then came the fateful morning. He had them both prepares breakfast in the garden. Too good and the day was sunny, as they bickering in the kitchen having breakfast. This should be a feast. And Ms. Poe, the landlady, he left the garden generous. Barefoot, he had fragrant coffee, crusty bread, jam, cheese, sausage hauled down. For "Lulu" even an extra piece of fish Räuchermakrele dealers around the corner fetched. So they sat and enjoyed dancing in the autumn morning light. "Lulu" enthusiastically devoured their mackerel, while Wulnikowski with a lack of firmness his camembert fought.

When Lulu now the coat and the hind paws with the rough tongue licked, it happened.

Wulnikowski turned the sharp cheese knife! It swished down and-chop! Average - its bare right foot, a toe separated. Before shock and pain Wulnikowski yelled at by injecting blood was dusky him. And in the fog of his Unbewusstseins he saw Lulu only as davonstob. With some Länglichrundem in the mouth.

It was his toe. Lulu had abducted him.

The blood flows sparkled in the dark on the paved terrace. He limped dizzy afterwards. He won it is not. They shooed into the thicket of gorse, lilac and rhododendron bushes and disappeared into the verblätterte invisibility. He was not. Everything Call half. It would have the toe re-sew. But "Lulu" is fortgeblieben. And Zeh, whose whereabouts is unknown, we can not sew. Meanwhile, it is too late, the hope abandoned, the bitter disappointment twice. The foot and shrugs puckert before punishment. Above all, the toe that is not there anymore. Elende phantom pain.

"On the moon with you! And with the same damned cheese knife with him, "cursing Wulnikowski and reads viewer with his index finger next few crumbs of biscuit bowl.


It gnurpst, klötert and clatters through my floor. A little more bluster ending. I think the oriental butcher on the ground floor has a new, extra loud mincer purchased.

Brief Tiger

Horatio met us yet. Almost at the end. Late. And actually much too soon. The evening would like to be much longer. Only a few minutes later, echoes of the final closing chord. Rasmus beckons friendly farewell, announced that, even under the right mix of people. We go anyway. With encores only one solid hour concert. Crisp, but well short. Our sophisticated avoidance tactic would be so far gone almost in the eye. Schlau we had heard before, had the title of "Rupesh Cartel" terrible decision for us and decided, at the concert of "Tiger Lou" in track 22 to the support band to abstain. The sense was after us much, but not after elektrifiziertem pigpop with vergangenheitsverhafteter 80er-Jahre-Attitüde.

It drizzles, the sky is black skies, the jacket is clammy. Quiet curses on the cold, wet weather flit through the autumn wind and are carried away. With half delay, as we planned to shuffle around 9:30 schrubbeligen the concrete stairs up and the club. Nobody plays. The audience is inaugurated, drinks, smokes, yaps. Do we have the support band around but not missed? Few Schlücke fresh lager are only hinabgeperlt our throats because wuppert us, the first bass line. Are some already? Yes, they are. Huch, the champion unexpectedly early the honor. That was close. Whatever happens with the support band may have played, they have not. It will not continue, and finally we get now, which is why we came. "Until I'm there." They are there, we are there, everything is good.

Shortly grab us Rasmus Kellerman and his guys. They pick us on their cuddly jazz, music flying carpet and go with us forever. Time lockerleicht counterpoint with Schalala- and Heyheyschubiduwah-Refrains, cheeks a few times wistful tears, sometimes shake the Rock thunderstorm flying carpet and bring him to the quake. Should one of the drawers thinkers schreinern charging a tailor-made, it could be "Esco" written on it - a mix of Emo and disco. Flight shows the typical second album-Live phenomenon: "Sell out" is the biggest hit of the previous album early dashed into the audience. The cheers, clapping the song and his own memory. A colorful dance from mostly new songs interspersed with older stuff awaits us. Crisp played snappy presented. Good mood, the melodies bounce into the ear and cause the hum -singen.

And yet: The audience was very impressed, but it moves like a Germknödel. Rhythmic nod Gros seems to be the highest of emotions. Perhaps also because the quiet impression remains that Kellerman & Co. are in a hurry, again from the stage to come. They offer a Ekeren Set, experienced delicacies, but it's like the Nobel Restaurant: What comes to the plate, is exquisite but very manageable. After a good three-quarters of an hour we twitch? As "our last song"? You have grad but only started to play, and "Oh Horatio" not even the best song played the previous record!

So, guys!

Braver adding requisition applause. And so there are Tiger Lou also obediently. Horatio met us yet. Almost at the end. Late. And actually much too soon. This time he Publikumsanbiederung-small-not on the way to Munich but after Munster. Bobbing in time, restrained singing along. Silent luck. Two short, semi songs later it is still close. We want their noble gesture but appreciate that at least they still have three encores. We know, too. But because it's been very nice, hätt's also like to ne corner can be longer. Especially since the support band is down. However, what makes us so little care.


Sounds Fall

The evenings are every minute longer. Only briefly, then come the clouds. Swollen with icy waters, vorangepeitscht storm of fury send holiday in the sun and the sky whitewash in pale gray. The leaves, still bravely to the swing arms, will soon result in resignation and serials like lemmings rushing down from the cliff, rustling hurled across the intersection, over, weitergejagt. Soon they will be crushed under mud, then suck the shoes from the rain water and schlurpsen at every step, while endless cascades of water drops against the panes like crackle Erbsen.Glasflaschen exploding on the roadside fall. The wind encompasses them and they klöternd rolls through the area before it to a lamppost smashed. A plastic trash cans by the wall, becomes lost. He is dizzy. Window beat by themselves, curtains are at the tipping column sucked. Quiet wistfulness and tribulation mixed in the daily mood. The autumn. But how comfortable it is, you sit in the warm indoors. In front of a steaming tea mat license less candles, the dancing Knitterpapierlampe sanftwarmes light on the book pages, which you scrolls. The legs are set in a blanket. Biscuits are dipped in the tea, break, with a spoon herausgeschöpft again. And from the sound investment quiet, delicate chords, broken voices and the comforting touch of transience. I think it is time to compile a sampler autumn. My proposal follows the same. What is your autumn?

First Jacques Brel - Jojo
Second Kevin Devine-Haircut
Third Kristofer AstrĂ & Hidden truck-What I came here for
Fourth Eels - Somebody loves you
Fifth Mark fiddle-My pet rat St. Michael
Sixth Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds feat. PJ Harvey-Henry lee
Seventh DEUS - Serpentine
Eighth Kaizers Orchestra - Christiania
Ninth The decemberists-From my own true love (lost at sea)
10th Weakerthans - Pamphleteer
Eleventh Ryan Adams-Call me on my way back home
Twelfth Damien Rice-Older chests
Thirteenth Ben Folds Five-Evaporated
14th Okkervil River-A Stone
15th Sufjan Stevens-John Wayne Gacy Jr.
16th Radiohead-Fog (again)
17th Ben Kweller-Living life
18th I am Kloot - Twist
19th Bright Eyes - We are nowhere and it's now
20th Juliette Gréco - Feuilles mortes



Some stuffed dogs emulate in amazingly perfect way lively dogs. Adas dog "Schlupp" amazingly pantomimed in a perfect manner stuffed dog. A fluffy fringe troddelte before his forehead, cleverly hid the fact that the dog probably also two eyes, and revealed the Darwinian superfluousness of seeing through the practice of a foreign will and a leash to be led. Streichelte it, we had to fear that his hair schlammbraunen Fells one in the finger pricked. He was a small, almost in the bag to plug, delightful stupid and had the necessary movements a Germknödels. Bequemte seltenenfalls he actually heard of his eternal Lying on the tail corduroy sofa for food, in spite of everything they had, even in these cases, the feeling that he may not even have to move. With attentive investigation could even identify which side of the head and on which side of the tail.

Memories of a trip to Alsace (IV)

In the fog rest (still) a world-wide today until about midday. The weather gives popularitätsmüden sights a little rest and hide their faces behind cold, blickdichter cotton. We hide ourselves in turn, initially before the fog in the crisp warm caravans. The East Frisian aufgebrühte freshly steamed good mood from the colorful mugs sparkled. It smells of cheese, jam, fresh bread and roasted salted butter. Only very slow and relaxed the day we arrive. And where such turbid soup surrounds us, but nothing dunned to hurry. We have time. And finally, we calculated the mountains durchkurven today, and let the view of the pass heights, hills and road summits, where the panoramic view, but so far only 50 meters. So again nochschenken, wait, tea drinking. Probably, the sun, the cold, blassfahle Geschwappe verrieseln so soon. All too hastily, it is so but apparently not, and so we have to break into the thicket look and go.

Before louder secrecy hides quietly snickering at the edge of the road - also Zellenberg the village, which I particularly like beschmunzelt, since its turrets and houses as a furry cap pulled on the crest of a hill, the more likely a wooden soup bowl resembles. His feet curl also Fecht almost silently through the white soup-Little River, the fertile valley and soaked in many places so narrow that you could throw over a dog, if you let it go and you would have wanted.

First, we are humming in the next largest city, after Colmar. Picturesque corners and facades, wood Pigs Restaurant in shop windows, Chan Sons of Charles Trenet, umglasten green from the air ducts of the parking garage under the Place Rapp their way upward surge, the Issenheimer altar at the Musée Unterlinden, bread bins, in which bread for the world to be collected, but are crowded with Coke cans, and tilting Döner-Alufolie boxes, a Maghrebinian hip, which is considered the possibility that he actually times I take away my camera could and frustrated and anathematizing hastened moves, as he realizes that I am strangely enough, on the other hand, and my property claim powerful maintains.

Bridging the divide, the mist their fluffy hat and the sun over the baton. The ours, we take for a cafe crčme for unknown reasons in the famous "Leffe" to us on the way back from the steep Gehügel the Vosges to wriggle. Warnings congestion on the route National, coupled with the re-blossoming knowledge, a German jam in France in spirit, a "plug" or "cap".

Nearly 150 small horses are under the hood of our Land Rovers roaring imprisoned. They whinny, and resent röhren, while the black vehicle between the steep rock falls and waldüberwucherten slopes uphill drive. While we look at the serpentines hinaufschrauben, overtakes my stomach with each new curve a kribbeliges Whiplash and the realization that I am quite in contrast to the enthusiastic exploring female curves and curves, in their immediate vicinity, I like to live, and loving me-Gama'a amid the Steingebirgskurven on a gradual but continuous rotary vertigo attacks, which the brain after some time in Dämmer heavily promoted.

Regularly the nose to keep shut and the pressure balance, not just read and write. Vertigo, and I had never, but once I too long and fast turn in circles, and I totally schalou cack. Especially when one goes in the valley, obscures the mountains to shameless way to look to the horizon and ensure that airline routes of a half kilometers in revolving worm rides from the 15 km lead.

Who at the top of the pass, or in one of the slope gekrallten huts high above the lively bubbling Valley resident, should see to it that his shopping list and not forgetting everything clean ticked when he down to the village to go shopping. But in the Panorama silbrigsanft glittering autumn light on the pass compensates for much, and after some time and a lot of fresh air, also sneaks back into the spiral Schwindelschwirren in my brain coils.

In the evening the sun crawls back behind the mountain slopes to be put to sleep. Ghostly pale haze thickened to re-mist, floats from the meadows and Hrimfaxe and swallowed the world among themselves. We climb back into the warm cozy home, at the stove crackles and bubbles up there with formidablem dinner begins the coziest part of the day relaxing before the darkness of night and the severity of the eyelids us in the direction of reduced dream.

"The Germans have a special weakness for the Rhine wine. He is slender bottles and is considered to be pleasant drink. From vinegar distinguishes it with the help of the label. "(Mark Twain)

Back to the worm turns, crawls my nurmehr Internet. But it creeps forward again. For the first time since my move, I can finally return to my own desktop to the Internet. Instead pfeilschnellem DSL is a crude, old ISDN, the strange flashes, my patience in phases to the test, but a few beads of sweat facilitated cheeks and down happily blur Gegrummel impatient with the fact that what Slow still enormously much better than garnix . An advanced weekend. Since yesterday, I can finally watch television again - ARD, ZDF, WDR and British soldiers BFBS stations-the first shipment in the new room was "The shipment with the mouse", shortly after waking up. In addition, I have thanks Germanwings even booked a flight and will be for 3 euros per flight to Dublin in December and fly back. So lobe that I

Memories of a trip to Alsace (III)

With thick protectors and helmet wobbly Schwyzer Mama the gently sloping road in front of our caravan along. They learn in-line skating. Even their knees tremble, which they desperately pressed together. The way below their roles is treacherous, the driving direction ahead difficult to say. Sohnemann giggles. The little sister gives heart to show solidarity and schlingerd hectic squeaking behind. My dad rises from his chair schaffellüberworfenen, presented "The funny paperback" aside, shuffles comfortably behind and starts Mama, before they fall. But suddenly sees the angle of the eye and exiting lops. Then the ear hears rich murmur.

It clatters short and dry. A huge children messenger struts on the campsite like a vain peacock. From honking cars can master Adebahr not impress. Those who crossed his path will be waiting. A whole pack curious, and he pulls behind her, while he measured step roams the campsite.

He knows he is a sensation. Only a small, but they must first. After all, he is the heraldic animals in Alsace and bommelt as plush animal version of thousands in the streets of the picturesque villages in his homeland.

And he also knows that his unusual appearance him the hearts and lots of food chunks can fly. Why laboriously catching frogs? In order loose, it can be diced cheese, baguette shreds and liver sausage Flats Chen in the beak werfenDie trainingsbehosten standing wave giggeln ball, get their kids, everything is astonished. Five meters away they kneel down, the small flash their completion Fuji camera flickers. Unfortunately, just the butt of the Danish neighbor shoved into the picture and catches the light. Nevertheless, a beautiful picture for a travel anecdote. "This would actually be able to see a stork. He is with us on the wrong campsite. We have fed him. That was very fun. The butt heard Mrs. or Ms. Ulsgaard Sörensen. " The Schwyzer dad smiles again through his mustache, his son, a butcher knife in his hand and said: "Gchescht dchamit times to Schtorch!" Later calls Schwyzer of his children to the table: "Kchommt, 'There's Schtorchenrágú!"

Researchers Lookalike-Contest legal?

In rare moments can be seen, as I hantiere with scissors, and I have even three. With an "never" beyond frequency sees me, however, someone or something Shearing. And much rarer over a comb. And so little applausträchtig prejudices I think so, I saw my schummrigen somewhere in the dark of my sub-consciousness of cliches about housing law students in my earlier passage by the square yard of the Law Faculty, which refers almost amazingly covered with the observation, a lecturer I have made a few semesters. The fact that not all lawyers are equal, that there are exceptions to the enormously sympathetic mainstream, and I argued just the argumentative doormat wegziehe under their feet, and I know I will not deny. Rather, it's really only here for the following impressive episode:

Schmunzelprustend joined Dr S. was the seminar room in literature and failed permanently in the experiment, their inner shaking with laughter with a mantle of serious adequacy over it. Confused and amused on a lecturer who wordlessly at her desk sat in front of the seminar and again began to giggle, we runzelten the forehead, and asked wanted to laugh. Then they told her just made observations and thoughts games.

"I am just on the back of the university library Juridicum gone through and have thought: Here is yet almost all men and all women the same, that one must suspect that the wrong nightly girlfriend at the wrong friend to bed increases because they do has not noticed that it confused with someone else has the same look and vice versa. Probably is purely visual and unintentionally caused the Fremdgehquote-nowhere as high as for the lawyers. "

The series answers, which can not necessarily be expected, ":
"I should be with you pedal on the Aasee? Okay, it's beautiful autumn wind and weather. But I werd but already seasick when I shower! "

Today would be a good day to go to the Promenade in the mountains to overthrow herabgetaumelter leaves and foliage-Angel hineinzuwühlen. Look time.

Memories of a trip to Alsace (II)

Bonsoir tristesse. Fast post charm meets the barren Klause left of the limited entrance of the campsite "Pierre de Coubertin" in Ribeauvillé. Two trainingsbehoste campers to laze shabby plastic monobloc chairs. The bulk of the space is empty. Even Lost frizz gray lines from the dust on the worn linoleum floor covering. Some faded posters hang for years on the wall. Printed they are attractive Truss, tried geknispten facades. At the time, before they were angepinnt here, they can no longer remember.

The Dartboard and the surrounding wall wallpaper behind her mother stab wounds. But the pain. At least hurts the disc nor the Bull's-Eye-Gegend. Mostly their peripheral areas of the puckern still pinched. For tonight, they rest. Almost no one is there. And the only guests who might be dangerous, hanging like a sip of water in the curve in their plastic chairs and drink flat Kronenbourg.

The receptionist hakennasige kokelt enormous patience to Papas cord, the fire begins immediately. As for us because cloud, easy route to the barrier, instead of obediently at the designated site before Anmeldeparkplatz stop. Whether we maybe even a hidden washer and a dryer in our caravan portable. The fact that we do not need to imagine, after 22 hours by car or on the ground to drive. Alimentation only between 8 and 9 am, depending on the mood but also ne quarter of an hour shorter.

Small clouds of smoke still thinks it days later, on the head of my father strubbelfrisierten exercise, if he thinks it back, flanked by ricocheting fury. But it flies away nimble again, and finally, the actual holiday enormously relaxing and nice.

A Dutchman with zerknautschtem Bull Dogg's face kneeling on his terrain and mounted a huge steel tripod KILLINGWORTH his satellite dish. But the fine adjustment raises problems. The Contact into space will slow further. Sinuskurvige Dauerpiepstöne accompany his manipulations. The Danes, the celebration evening trousers unpacked. The beer tastes, seems's. A lonely doormat lies motionless on the pitch. Two pair of sandals bore on it. The accompanying mobile home is still on. Three children rampage before squeaking joy at the huge playground scaffold. Ponente! One is the Kletterleiter down. His green cap is down. He blubbers glasklirrend. Mama comes running. It's all good. The moon shining through the livid feuchtkalte fog plush blanket, which is good for the night on the forest floor and laid before. Knee High Position lamps have buttermilchigem license with the route to the caravans as Leitlichter an airplane runway. The belly curves are satisfied and exhausted by powerful powerful delicious and tasty food. Without knocking climbs the cold night through small cracks in the still pleasantly warm caravans and trembles even to himself, when the gas heater off.

Due Worth Knowing

Guru nuts grow on Stinkbaum.

Who exactly was actually "Uncle Hansi"?

Impressions of a trip to Alsace (I)

Tiny villages snuggle like cats sleeping on wine hills. Goldherbstliches light trickling down from heaven, where the winding streets of the picturesque half-timbered facades regenbogenpastellen shimmer. Some zigzags up cling squat huts with sorgenzerfurchter face of the slope. For decades they live with the fear, and tumbling down to time. Hard bricks sits in the earth every few kilometers graufelsige a castle. A farmer on a wine-red McCormick eggt his steep field and crawls to the mountain foot. The impish yellow vine rows on the mountain terraces have been pollinated with gold powder.

Everywhere herausgeputzte color joy. Ensuring themselves to be happy, but especially for the guests. In picturesque spots like Riquewihr, Ribeauvillé or Kayser-the home of Dr. Albert Schweitzer lives a little like the zoo, the same idyllic spots in more populated open-air museums. Inside swells thicker soup tourists through the narrow alleys. Will busseweise herangekarrt, hineingepfropft, bottled, crowded excluded. Umbrellas soar like toothpicks for guidance from the schwabbelnden mass-yaps and follow blindly, expressed the breitflügligen flat noses, including window panes to inhabited rooms. Times look like whoever lives, the lives here. Hardly an angle that is not already on celluloid or chip is banned.

Behind their hands yawn the houses of Riquewihr, but experienced her smile, wear their brave colored dress costumes. They can be begrabbeln and hold still for the buzzing, whirring cameras. You know the procedure for decades, the angekarrten hordes, the pushing, the Wuseln who astonished mouths, the ecstatic eyes, the folk stuff. During the week, especially on weekends. You do nothing more of it. The faces that they begaffen, change and similar but striking. Rounded Judea, reizüberflutet purr with enthusiasm, permanent wave, hair lichtendes deck. Few exceptions. Half of their views is through the viewfinder of the camera. Erika, Gisela ... something closer to Werner, and now poison-smile!

On the facades clatter countless wooden signs. "Plat du jour," "menu du jour," Baeckaouffa, tartes gratinées. Venez nombreuses! Come, drink, woods, let us your best. And if you are tired, we have even kitschy Putten, quietschbunte postcards, printed Steingutbecher unkind to the town hall, pendants, pennants and plush storks, the finger pressure on her stomach with loudspeakers to rattle and songs crow.

Small children from the village in costumes dancing a dance stripes on the cobblestones and lilt lively children's songs. The eyes of the public passing shine, the camera flashes twitch. There is coffee and cake, baked. Down at City Hall bollert "le petit train." Equality is back downhill. A small disguised as a steam engine tractors deported zahlkräftige tourists sheep across the Gassengewusel, winding streets rebenschwangeren up in the vineyards above the village. Who likes garnished his head with headphones and can be via tape loop useful information on local history and listen to bleat.

Marc remains ferment in the side streets and put-together with the jugs full-Federweißer säuerlichsüße swaths between the gable of the brain in velvety Dämmer dive, and the pores large swarms attract fruit flies. Vines hektoliterweise juice flowing. Anakreons disciples sanguinischer Laughter indulge in their passions: wine, women and song. Oily sausage with sauerkraut (Choucroute) and thick with cheese, sour cream and bacon browned Flammkuchen shine very heavy in their stomachs. Up the glass! Schenk Elsässischer wine ... again! Juhejuhe, the wine is here! The tons are filled; So let us be joyful and full of juhejuhejuuu Halse sign!

Before the big Schänke Wehrtor moves on the ground and from the amorphous volume formed a singing club volkstümelnder men, builds on and begins at weinseligem swings urdeutsche ways to bawl. If too mei'm Schätzel kommscht, I say let greet ... O valleys far heights o, o beautiful green Thuringian Forest ... girls ... Ah Kathrein alder, schnür you the shoe ... From the wine and spirit fired over their votes. The dauergewellte, halbbeglatzte audience hoots krummschiefen applause in a half-circle around the singers horde around. The black and silver dance in front of the cameras trembling bellies while their makers fettglitzernden their hands clapping with lots to blare intertwined. We are not in Rüdesheim in the (sellers) Drosselgasse, but the (wine) spirit is here an almost identical.

And yet: A few angles off the main streets can try, in which the delicate beauty of the villages on you can and no other tourist at the feet occurs, then in a wide Pfälzisch to complain, why is because of the way . Alsace, the picturesque beauty, the Zartwangige, Farbenfrohe with lush curves. The residents love her feet. Their hidden corners, the angle unerforschteren also enchanted me.

Today we do not take Dr. Oetker, but a bound book at hand. Any. Which is fine. And then we can ask whether the protective envelope to bound books, in fact, protects anyone, but rather it is because the entire book most protection necessary for it is not broke.

Communication Disorders in Regionalbus

Stapelskotten on Outdoor. A lonely bus stop bored snoozes on the busy main road into town. A freshly shaven student waiting for the R22, which it from the remote station in front of the gates of his adopted home in the inner city to bear. The plan includes "Central Station, 11:19" and "stay-at alley, 11:24 (at the end)" an exit possibilities for election. Where was the same but the housefly alley? One of these street names in their own city, where everyone meets, which are geographically but not in the least lane. Just ask precaution, he thinks, as the bus at the bus bay and rushes with squeaky brakes to a halt.

Student (tries to be polite and friendly):
"Forgive the brief question, but could you tell me just exactly where in the city the housefly alley? I consider whether I prefer the main railway station in the city run or from the terminal. "

Bus driver (answers in a wide Westphalian dialect):
"Housefly alley is the final destination. Since müssense off. "

"I know that. I just wonder, w o the housefly alley within the city since. In what part, in the vicinity of which, because I am familiar while, but the street names are not assigned geographically. "

Bus driver:
"More than because könnense eh not go."

"I am aware of. Is it closer to the city center from the main station or from the housefly alley? "

Bus driver:
"You can get off two stops. We are committed to both. "

Student (hair is scuffling and thunder, sits down on a chair and will be a surprise).

Sick of Sick

To save time, Ada had its two multi-grain bread slices before the corridor to the bathroom in the toaster put on the pair that he purring crisp roasted, while they are under the shower refreshed. Only once in the cabin milchverglasten liked it is no longer quite separate from wohligwarmen rain droplets, played in the mixed battery, turned hot water. Nearly half an hour. From time savings could no longer speak.

Now they touched the meantime crisp bread slices. Schlapp like cold cardboard. Klack. Schnurr again for me, toaster. Meanwhile While they lit their air-cigarette, sucked out relaxed leaned back and let her smoke clouds in the mild autumn light dancing, the slanting through the kitchen window hereintropfte.

Too much stress in recent times. Allen to make everything right, was an Ascension command. By tomorrow evening, she still had her essay on "The Photography in the light of Walter Benjamin's" have submitted. But the turbulent last few weeks, they had exhausted, exhaustion had like a thick, sleeping cat on her head, and their other speaker in vague Dämmer drown. My idea was the river dried up like a desert in the Wadi.

Multiple they had in the days before used to write, but the words were still pale as hemophiliacs, and listlessly trübschlaff ranked at the rates together. The mad professor Doctor stress they had attacked, dragged into his lab, it Aderlass asked their fantasy crushed until it crumbles into tiny crumbs. Their language has been at the seams off, it was down to the bony skeleton emaciated. They jerked around clumsy, almost lifeless, with a dry mouth, an empty look, faded and faded.

Klack. The toaster threw the bread slices high, which is now in thickness, but still crisp. Ada swatted her cigarette in the ashtray overcrowded. Some flakes of ash triggered by the embers, sailed a few moments to the light and then laid on the table sleep. They threw the bread flat on the breakfast plate, cut with a knife through butter, stirred in the jam, smeared both it and bite into it vigorously.

Incidentally she skimmed through the viewer's cultural level. Somewhere in the middle of the booklet urged grumbling. A oberlehrerhafter finger wagged issue between the sides. Despise arrogance welled behind. They skimmed through quickly to the origin of this strange hustle uncover. When they reached their destination, according to Ada yawned. The newest "Zwiebelfisch." Bastian Sick, the language police, had sought new victims and distributed hectic traffic violations because of the strict rules of the German language.

"How dull would be the language well, so if all speak like Sick? No corners, no edges. If Ange in rank and link! At Sick is the German language as a city park, in which the entering of green areas is prohibited, "it wuselte Adas head. Lightning Clean, washed blütenrein rates as shy children who brushed with accurate side crest, manikürten clean fingernails and creases smuggest pants bolt upright on the table, which it is forbidden to play or even to think, and the only allowed to speak, after which they Papa the floor. Eiskalt and sentenziös. So lively and cheerful as the linoleum floor in land. Vive la bureaucratie!

Everything has its order, which applies now and forever, has to be respected, and who is against the house rules, with the ruler on the back of the hands in the Büßer-Ecke made or arrest locked room until he whimpers remorseful and with tears in the eyes vowed never again to the dative instead of the Rabbit to use grad only because he was faster at hand.

We have nothing against an original idea, but only if they are not in violation of our strict guidelines violated. Before the shoes off, but the games from the left-shelf use all parts lane and then return the carton zurückräumen, and after playing Feierabend is generally prohibited. Imagination is not urgently needed and important knowledge of the prohibition follow deontologisch decisive grammar catalog. Dear language, the so arid and dusty as a Trockenfurz than that we of colorful, loud, krähenden words rumtanzen on the nose, we are not yet in kindergarten! Anarchy is something for the mob. We are civilized. We prefer toneless, simple, dull colors, tidy and entschlackte records with a note of sterility, antiseptic, clinically pure, inflexible, rigid and heartless. Otherwise, we could still be infected, and you know where that leads you, and even the language is ill.

The insidious virus bite itself firmly in the language to contaminate it with improper use word, throw in the living room of the words to the cabinets, drawers tear apart, let the middle smelly socks on the carpet, crockery not recognize her away, fiddling with the drink and wash not. And recently, the House of language pigsty, devastated, messy, a mess by not more accommodating, a noisy Moloch eve of indecency. That is, what we, ladies and gentlemen, and that is why I have my second book on the market, they buy and ask all of its instructions, please follow all else, it was.

"Gentlemen, go 'shit, you besserwisserischer wide mouth frog, you ewiggleicher bureaucratic Schablonenscheißer, Du Johann Joseph Fux of everyday language, your language is like eating unseasoned," angered at Ada, as they Zwiebelfisch column with her look more average. And they suddenly felt, as their language of the of the life in it already from sträubendem resistance to the rule sick'schen Catalog started bubbling again

Wasps Versalzene

One of my best friends gave me gebeichtet yesterday that he was glued kindergarten child. They had made it credible that one around him buzzing wasp primarily from the fact divert them to stand by and incessantly mantraesk "salzigsalzigsalzigsalzigsalzigsalzigsalzig
Salzigsalzigsalzigsalzigsalzigsalzigsalzigsalzigsalzigsalzigsalzig "she says. For a moment I thought: "That would have come from Ralph Wiggum."

A sure sign that the new semester approaching, when again almost by a freshman with the bike is rammed, while driving straight into the town plan wafted face.

A: "From what director was also again because the last film with Bill Murray-'The Tiefseetaucher'? He has but also the "Royal Tenenbaums." "

B: "Is that where the water suddenly again, and then suddenly the ship away?"

Where raw power ...

Good that I am still surprised himself again. On Saturday evening, I have almost forgotten my Superman forces rediscovered and briefly lost control over when I spontaneously at the trial, which Wasserhahnkrahnschwenk-Nupsi a small piece out, just the whole steel pipe had broken off and torn.

Welcome to the City

The song of the city. In my previous apartment, I was more at the rear end of the audience crowd, and the wind blew just be the sounds of Geräuschgewühls went to my window. Now, with the move, I am in the middle of the convoy in front of the stage jumped to live with the ear to the speakers. Still, I dare not, with open windows to sleep. Because even at the busy intersection, in which I live, and resent the Aron Sattenschlepper roar like a lion Horde, scooters through my crow Bude, notbremsende tires squeak me from sleep. Horns complaining loudly. I chopped up the sub oriental slaughters pigs halves, I tried about a punk rocker on his Stratocaster clone new riffs to write. Martin's horns in four-four time yowl in Mark and leg. Pneumatic drill clatter, wuppern, leave the concrete pavement fragmenting. Clatters hundred meters with a freight train hard, beating speech on the steel bridge that speeds up quite excited about continuing, in the person of all.

Nightlife is the überschleudert their tormentors with a wild Wust bitter angry. Perhaps I am only now arrived in the city. The flashing lights, in liquid, geliergezuckertem traffic, the tough roads through the swells and roars. But here pulses life, here vibrates the city. Only a few meters I jump farther, and I am already in the missile cafe, with like-minded people in nostalgic charm krudem crime scene to watch, a few meters before the Bar-writer ', hip cocktail lounge. Also on Kreativkai with its rusty cranes and nouveau designers to spit shed is now a breeze. Welcome to the urban life, I say to myself, open the window, peer into the bronze autumn morning light, the sky mild durchschwirrt, close the window again and put me a lap to sleep.

Welcome to the City

The song of the city. In my previous apartment, I was more at the rear end of the audience crowd, and the wind blew just be the sounds of Geräuschgewühls went to my window. Now, with the move, I am in the middle of the convoy in front of the stage jumped to live with the ear to the speakers. Still, I dare not, with open windows to sleep. Because even at the busy intersection, in which I live, and resent the Aron Sattenschlepper roar like a lion Horde, scooters through my crow Bude, notbremsende tires squeak me from sleep. Horns complaining loudly. I chopped up the sub oriental slaughters pigs halves, I tried about a punk rocker on his Stratocaster clone new riffs to write. Martin's horns in four-four time yowl in Mark and leg. Pneumatic drill clatter, wuppern, leave the concrete pavement fragmenting. Clatters hundred meters with a freight train hard, beating speech on the steel bridge that speeds up quite excited about continuing, in the person of all.

Nightlife is the überschleudert their tormentors with a wild Wust bitter angry. Perhaps I am only now arrived in the city. The flashing lights, in liquid, geliergezuckertem traffic, the tough roads through the swells and roars. But here pulses life, here vibrates the city. Only a few meters I jump farther, and I am already in the missile cafe, with like-minded people in nostalgic charm krudem crime scene to watch, a few meters before the Bar-writer ', hip cocktail lounge. Also on Kreativkai with its rusty cranes and nouveau designers to spit shed is now a breeze. Welcome to the urban life, I say to myself, open the window, peer into the bronze autumn morning light, the sky mild durchschwirrt, close the window again and put me a lap to sleep.

"Profligacy is a myth, the good people have invented for the curious attractiveness of others to explain." (Oscar Wilde)

My word of the week: plush eyes

Recently, I learned that shellac disks just as flammable as a bucket of diesel. A useful replacement for spritpreisverdrossene truck drivers, they probably still is not

Czysz Zata?

I myself was never in a Polish university town. But I could be a local acquaintance with the words "Napijesz czego si? Czy pójdziesz ze mn na imprez dla studentów pierwszego roku? " Question: "Do what you drink? Are you with me on a freshman Party? . " The rest of the evening would be up to a few more sentences, which are the current "Unicum" can refer to non-verbal communication. Also not necessarily bad. The only small flaw in the service of the really great students sheet remains that no refutations expected to be translated, so I have to invite and ask, but the rates would be damned if I get the answer.

Wurst Case Scenario

In my environment, the tendency to say that a party is no longer just a party should be. Good music, good people, with proper humidity cheerful beverages and excellent mood, perhaps enriched by chips, flips, salads and herb baguette some wealthy no more. Quite often quite original and smart, but sometimes enormously tense, the party slogan on a programmatic. Whether Bad Taste, noise and barter, porn or too much of anything. It appears to the occasion and theme-dressed accordingly, will take appropriate gifts, is changing the slogan in a properly decorated party atmosphere and feels under some circumstances even the motto accordingly. The private party event with a corporate identity and design. If the idea into the neck hpringt that he likes a sausage-Origami-Party wants to organize, or who the mitessenden eyes of the hungry guests with highly sophisticated Meats decorations flatter wants here is a look. Because although in Japanese-you get great detail demonstrates how quickly grabs a sausage from a shark, a rabbit, apocalyptic Reiter, dragons, tulips, elephants or carve bees. So far, the creations of his own party of no use to me, but I always have a trump card in the hindquarters. The extent of such zurechtgeschnitzte sausages, but at the guests in rapture meet're still remains obscure city heikelster speculation. The corresponding Collaborative Research Center at the University of Harsewinkel was recently set.

Presumably, the source of all human limbs, the individual life.

Today is the day of the pitcher. Later, I will raise my pint and toast of Ireland (and Dortmund).

Ompa till you drop!

On the outward journey, the word play God in the trunk of our castle green Polos cowered. With gentle rise julianae he pushes on the bladder, so that her chosen in Müssingen out urgently need our Polo-whereupon briefly later on a dirt road between two fully verkrümelt corn fields. The goal is the rußverdunkelten brick halls of the Bielefeld Ringlokschuppens, a Norwegian cargo rattling Endorphinschübe to refuel: Kaizers Orchestra live. Light fog creep up in the fields of golden chestnuts crowns plop few ripe fruits and burst on the windshield, everywhere seems to be harvest festival. But eventually, the east Westphalian durchkurvt roads and parking goal. By far not as spectacular as the icy glacier in Norway, high above the fjord, where they played some time ago, but rustic ambience. Actually, I had already previously tags also want to be here - Kettcar but everything is not, and after the hamburgers I have repeatedly seen, were by far Kaizers Orchestra exciting choice.

Ricocheting about the friendly beer prices from 3 € tough guy in the barren concert hall and through equal to an entire network of discussions. But when they slowly ebb, lower the light. In the light cone fahlblauen ambles beglatztes a single males with accordion: The Canadian Schalk Geoff Berner. Five pieces weighs long he gets to be like a young elm in the autumn wind, Quagga sings songs about flying, the plunge into the whiskey glass or in the forties active European despots, conjures with his mocking humor Schmunzelfalten lumberjack shirt in the mouth angle of the audience before the stage stairs hinunterklettert, because the real heroes are still hiding.

Light. Anticipation in the dark.

Only under a yellowed lampshade on the pump organ dimly shimmering light. Only hesitant zerflossene 10 minutes later sorts Rune, the strubbelbärtige drummer on the stage and begins with peppiness and lots, supple loszupoltern, dängelt at its tinny dustbin, threshes in the skins. One of his pelvis is broken, so a brass monkey off of Locke, the warped in the amount rises. A little later, rolling Jon, the muscular bear on bass, and lets the deep tones peppy grooving before the odd key Tiger Helge with his gas mask on the legendary portraits hinterherstolpert bald. Swish full swing, the guitarist behind him before Janove, strubbelköpfige front man with sideburns, big as sails on a windjammer, saunters onto the stage. Around him around the sparks fly, rants, grooving, and it crackles. He pours himself initially but something in his glass of Merlot and mischievous grins into the swaying mass.
Yet he only handles the microphone cord around his finger, but he knows the crowd will follow. A few short jokes about the rotkrawattigen Schwarzhemd- partnerlook front of the trio and even then the post. A anderthalbstündiger haunting, it is still before the public.

You know not what a rake? Then fits times. Right at the beginning of the guitars fly to the short side and Terje Geir and the guitarists to grab hockey clubs, with a precise balancing rhythmic fireworks from oil and car rims to fight as if they are neckischer dwarf Troll into ear frisked. And as in a barrel at the highest flame let her musical mixture simmer. What rouses already on board, completely thrilled here. Messerscharfer rock and desert Ompa (the Norwegian Polka) fly into a pot, surf guitar, accordion delicious grinding, comfortably bouncing bass lines, ohrwurmende melodies. Dynamic is here rollercoaster. Herbstmelancholisch soft Chan's hanging with deep chords as the delicate branches of weeping willows are followed by fluffy dancing Gute-Laune-Fegern locker before the cruise short to provide full and wirlbelwindig wuselnde Polkas high-speed chase, as if the gods gone mad, and they are on the escape. Beads of sweat glisten on the forehead, on the dance floor shrugs, removed ecstasy in the audience, including Rune behind the shooting has been the jacket from the body and crashed in the hammer shirt. The celebrations of the Day of the domestic unit may follow tomorrow, today, the Nobel unit celebrates. The hall cooks, hoots, cheers. Who knows, sings with the melodies. For the texts, but it reminds a little of the time when my classmates in elementary school David Hasselhoffs "I've been lookin 'for freedom" and wanted to sing along, because they were so far no English, original seals afternoon as "Luckefuckefiedem" made. Again, only embarrassed syllable rates. Those who already speaks Norwegian? But: So what! Schietegal. The most important is the music, and that is great. Skurril-abseitigen swept into a vortex, and dripping with sweat nassgetanzt immerses one in the music of Norwegian oddballs.
Full conceal the guys hardly their commercial intentions, asking the audience and incessantly smiling, after the concert, so all the disks to buy. In return shows Janove is generous and gives the public its half-bottle of Merlot. Give and take. Much too quickly rushes past the time before suddenly well as gifts from the four winds. What remains? A concert with the genius and madness together their favorite song sung have you by the hand packed and thrown through the air, a bauchkribbelnd exciting, totally exciting evening. And since none of the grad Kaizers here, I repeat the message: If you have no record of Kaizers Orchestra in shelf-whizzes in the next load your confidence and change that! And then we look forward to the next concert, if it means Ompa til you dřr.

Luminescent ball.

Suddenly child again

I was not in the bathroom, wore no surprises and I was - at least subconsciously - is already very clear that Lady Di is dead. I am also not a woman, and what I found was not unknown. After I spontaneously after empty Noldi am today to my father on his honorable adoption of the professional life to the side to stand yesterday, I have a little music. There is still a large drawer, in the years since a huge pile of old Klüngelkram from my childhood home set. My mother wants the drawer now like to use, so I changed the whole bunch yesterday auseinandergewühlt and am in a whirl of long forgotten memories ThyssenKrupp. Dozens of small thumb cinemas were as wildly scattered, which I in a primary school in mass produced. With exlodierenden ships UFO-Entführungen, bananas flanks with subsequent Fallrückziehern and Werner, "by his Horex hurled against a tree. Ancient stamps from the GDR, which my great aunt sent me earlier secretly. An Stoffmal-Eddings own football shirt, old, slightly zerknickte photos of me as a driver five years, kliteklitzekleine road construction workers still in the original package, which actually used to my mini-Trix railway landscape populate. Schnörkelkrakelige letter writing exercises and conversations between my mother and me from the kindergarten time, a rifle herzchenverzierte sheet metal with shiny marbles. My shirt designs, which I at the age of seven years at Puma in Herzogenaurach sent, which are in the executive floor but could not be enforced. Much more so. A treasure chest, which I took no card. A shimmering golden, nostalgic flood despite still saftig-jungen age. A touch of the fabulous world of Amélie.

Small wisdoms after Feierabend

Surprisingly easy on the nerves costume, if it succeeds in controlling the foot so that it is not against the reset button device, as long as one still unsecured, elaborate creative work almost, but not quite finished yet.

If the stomach returns ...

Just recently, the feed trough in the spacecraft, already munched the cow. No, today they are more likely slipped. Outside slammed scorching heat on the roof. Not unusual, we are in the northern province of the Sultanate of Oman, in Al-Sahm. The young woman, her meal credited had stood still in the cowshed and fumbled hectic all their pockets. They hurried to her mother, who she had helped during feeding. But the idea had neither. Just had a call yet, but where was now their phone? From a brainwave fired swished it to another apparatus, chose their own number. And indeed, a quiet, bright sirrte ringing. But it sounded so dull, as if you look at the ears kept shut. When she followed the tone, it had to find that the noise from the belly of the cow came from. The animal had the phone the preferred feed, but at the piece of plaster, so it still worked. In which of the seven stomachs it was, it was difficult to see the cow had ruminated not. Rarely had the young woman so eagerly sought a cow pat.

Opinions, Deinungen, Ihrungen Wirungen and prominent people for discussion

"The erectile organ of the man [...] is equivalent to the square root of minus 1"
(Jacques Lacan)

Notes, Exchange, oddities

The bizarre in everyday life can hide anywhere, and suddenly leaped. This morning it hopped-one could tell from the letter box in front of the post at the station. On the way to work, I swung with my silver wire donkey by the rail underpass, before the Tagwerks still at the post office one afternoon to end job. With skilful peppiness swung me from the wheel, and even while I was there, the padlock through the spokes to slide, welcomed me mümmelmannfahniger Stoppelhaarkopf, whose full beard dunkelblondem Ketchup still stuck on his torn leather jacket with a Antifa-A Edding in the round circle gekrickelt was, and look at the bad plaster glass panes recalled. He reeled me awkward forward, held his hand up and dreckkrustige lallte: "Ey, hassuma'n euros for watt to eat?"

In the absence of pity, but above all small money, as I only twenty-euro note carried with me, I replied: "Sorry, I have small money grad absolutely none."

"Well ... to fuffzich Euro I can change!"

"Oh ... then you go for the money but what to buy dinner. For the small but hunger could be the first rich. "

He bobbed amazed, I wriggled myself around him in the post and into tiered me in the queue switch. While I zentimeterweise voranschob me, I got a noisy discussion at the counter to my right. Before he switches. Nadelten strip from his silver-gray suit, the seitengescheitelte hair shone thanks to generous Pomade-Einsat. The Babypopowangen jungreich his face glowed silky gel.

The switch dauergewellte lady gave him energetically to understand: "Excuse me, but I can provide for a letter of only € 1.44 postage neither their gold card nor a $ 200-bill accept. They are still a little small money? ! "

With falsetto he crowed dauergewellte switch Dame: "No, I did not! I hope that you now immediately accept this letter and I change € 198.56 for a copy. I am a man most I have to do, you precious time to fritter . "

"So, Dear Sir. I am bound to my specifications, and in this tone, you ask me certainly not. "

"Well good. I remember me your name and will contact your office to submit a complaint against you, Mrs. X. " (Insufficient aufgeschnappte dialogue shreds were completed, Editor's note)

He tore his letter, in itself, which is now already franked, and spurted out of the branch. Stopped, he could not be more timely, but cared for general entrüstetes head shaking. I even shook his head a little later after I resent my job was submitted, but I had no identity and theoretically some people post to me would be diverted. Slightly alarming, that my twenty-euro note, however, was accepted without grumbling. The Post, in the morning to 9:30 in Germany.

Tuesdays ate them like their father. He tasted after deer, and was made from bread dough. His nipples were made of raisins. She knew that he, in fact, a woman was allowed to say to him, but this does not, otherwise, his eyes hollow. Nobody gave her ladies shoes.