Gobble gobble, said the turkey. Omnomnom, went the humans.

The sun and had sunk and mist was everywhere, but the mood was drunk with some spices in the air. Invited we were to enjoy the yank’s living, it was time for my very first Thanksgiving!

I have never known a food coma quite like what took over on the evening of Friday 25th November 2011 as lying in a group on the floor, everyone’s waistbands waited to deflate. In what was possibly one of the most mixed dinner parties I’d ever enjoyed we sat down as a group of British, Americans, Canadian, Australian Czech, Finnish and maybe one or two Germans, given what country we’re in. It is important to note that once again, I did not contribute in the slightest to the festivities, but three turkeys later we were all stuffed and ready to be put in the oven. The high levels of tryptophan found in Turkey attributed to the drowsiness and the great quantities of wine and liqueurs did little to prevent us melting into a bubbly pile of satisfaction on the floor. After all the savaging of the German culture, why not appreciate a little bit of what else being in such a multi-national group has to offer? Next stop… An australian barbecue?

Apologies for not blogging in a while, been a helluva week. More to come soon. Tomorrow I have my first presentation to be done, and of course I am absolutely ready and prepared to blow them all away with an insatiably well organised and researched 20 minutes of information. lol jk, I’m me.


¡ɹǝʇʇǝq ɥɔnɯ os sʞool ƃuıɥʇʎɹǝʌǝ

Something magical was pointed out to me yesterday evening, something I had always been slightly aware of but made no conscious effort to acknowledge. And that this is that I tend to eat things upside down. I’m not the thing that’s upside down in this case but rather the food. So long as it’s nothing drippy, I tend to find I enjoy eating stuff like Pizza and any topping’d food with the topping things facing downwards. It tastes nicer as you get the flavoured ingredients right away rather than having to taste the bland base first.

Which makes me think that perhaps, if we all took that extra time to eat things with the top facing the bottom then maybe, just maybe, the world would be a better place. If we band together in the flipped over side of life, then new perspectives would be drawn forth and old habits will die with ease. Such is the power of the pizza tongue that we can find unity in taste. So, next time you think of taking a bite out of a pizza… stop. And turn that shit upside down.

Or be normal. Your choice.

MJ’s a Pedo! And so can you!


Since yesterday’s post was a tad mushy, here’s something on the other side of life. I’ve found someone to hate! Not that this was a particular ambition of mine, but y’know. Very rarely do people actually annoy me. Sometimes what someone does can… SLIGHTLY IRRITATE, but rarely is it the actual person. He is the epitome of the German word Streber. *listens to German people chuckle* A term which accounts for someone who is a nerd, but is also a kiss ass/suck up whilst not being very nice about it. So the English version would be… Dickheadkissassgeek. Sly, arrogant and rude to the teacher, the boy cuts other people short mid-sentence during a discussion, uses vastly random sources to the arguments so as to bamboozle his arguer and has the audacity to say to others; “if you read it properly”. His word is law and my god do I want to carve a limerick into the wall using his face. And then make him read it.

Mentioning this, it came up in conversation that it’s fun to have someone to hate. People seem to enjoy seeing the worst in others, even when evidence goes the opposite direction. When Michael Jackson was found innocent of paedophilia, the public simply refused to believe this. “Must’ve been fixed” and “They fucked up the case” could be heard for miles. People who knew barely 1/10th of the evidence claimed superior knowledge of the events than those actually involved in it. It’s more fun to believe the worst in people, it’s an attempt not to appear “naive”, as if being pointlessly cynical is in any way better. When asked why, one of the answers is that it’s a way of making yourself feel better by comparison. But to be honest, if you judge your own personality based on whether or not you touch children, I think there’s little that can save you.

Thankfully the boy in my seminar isn’t a rapist. That I know of. He’s just a plain old fashioned dick. Yay for being judgemental!!

Got our eye on you.

I’ve been holding off telling my parenting people things about my missing wallet situation in the hopes that the wallet would magically turn up in the police office or returned to me in the hand of an incredibly handsome (and single) dream man. The last thing I was going to do was go running to my parents, I’m a big boy and must deal with issues like a mature adult. However, reality has other plans and as finance declined, fees rose and discovering that I couldn’t even log into my NatWest online banking, I remembered that this “big grown up man” was the same one who’d lost the wallet in the first place, had gotten his german bank account frozen through inept care and had of course, done every other stupid thing that gave reason why “Laurence Williams” is the best punchline from here to Cardiff. So, I bit the big one, readied the gun, held my breath and typed out an email to my father.

The response to which was a concise “yes-we-know” stream of information, as having read my blog (I’d forgotten my parent’s startlingly good internet literacy), they had already canceled the cards, ordered new ones and were ready to help out if I asked, reminding me very much of the clear cut point that should never be forgotten; “duh, we’re your parents”.

It is at this point that I realise I don’t even know the German word for Gratitude. Thankfully, you don’t need to spell a word to feel it.

Simbä’s döwn there!

In honour of Movember

Saturday saw a fun venture into more German culture, by watching an American film  that happily bases itself from a Shakespearean tragedy and shamelessly rips off a japanese anime. Der König der Löwen was a fun-filled day of childhood memories and 3D nostalgia. Watching The Lion King auf Deutsch was a regularly disorientating experience, the moment Elton John started to sound rather different, I knew I was in for an… interestingtime. As it happens, the German dub might actually have been superior to the original, perhaps because the actors used were ones experienced in Voice Acting and know the tools of a difficult trade. Adult Simba was superb. There were odd changes made, which were fun to spot, one of which was more brutal, during the Hyena’s making a buffet out of Scar, you hear Scar’s voice become a strangled scream of anguish, before tearing into choking cough of death as one of the Hyenas presumably chomped down on his windpipe.

Also, one of the few script changes I noticed (I was listening to the English script in my head the whole time) was when being interrogated for saying “Mufasa”, Bansai the Hyena’s line changed from an improv; “Que pasa?” to “Mit wasser?” (with water). For some reason this really interested me, having spent hours on a Thursday morning translating a joke in Japanese to something culturally relevant to US audiences. I guess Germans are more focused on being hydrated than finding out what’s going on.

And yes, I cried when Mufasa died. Are there any man points left?

You’re the plumber? Let me slip into something more comfortable.

So I like totally woke up at 8am this morning. Of my own accord. Yeah that is some damn sexy waking up right there. Of course, I didn’t actually get anything done until around 10am, where I got naked and wet in the shower thingy. Whilst drying myself off in a dressing gown there was a knock at the door and a man had arrived to fix my window. I scanned the hallway to make sure I wasn’t on the set for a porno.

So no more luck on the wallet, however upon arriving home tonight I looked in that one draw that I know I never put anything useful ever, and found the receipt for my semester ticket! Yatta!! So I don’t need to shell out another £140, and can be reimbursed for my fine on the tram. Suck it you legalised companies of public service! YEAH!

In other news, it’s like everyone’s birthday this week, and tracing back 9 months certainly explains why. Best delayed Valentines Day present ever 😀 I would complain that my wallet doesn’t feel the joy from all these expensive birthdays, but y’know, my wallet’s fucked off.

Throwing money around.

It would appear that in the world of wallets, I am a commitophobe. Saturday was the day I left my wallet on the bus, in which sat my bank cards, student ID, semester ticket and €40 of assorted notes. Just in the way it is completely and totally cool to make fun of a man who’s been divorced 3 times or more, it would appear the universe has decided that after 4 wallets in 3 years, it is time to mock me. Not only was I fined another €40 for taking a tram without a ticket on the one day that the ticket inspector is actually present, that said tram was in fact going in the wrong way, having changed directions and me missing the notice thanks to falling asleep. Next came to ringing the RNV Bus Company lost and found department. Where I was greeted with this situation.

“Ok, let me just have a look if we’ve received your wallet… Right, can you describe the wallet to me?”
“It’s black with a Shakespearean quote on the front.”
“ah, yes.”
“Inside is a green driving license with Laurence Williams on it.”
“On the left pocket there’s a blue semester ticket.”
“Alongside which are two English bank cards and a German PostBank card.”
“A Heidelberg University Student card.”
“And a plastic key in the back compartment.”
“Ah yes. No, we don’t have your wallet. Try calling again tomorrow.”

Universe, you have well and truly pwnd me.

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