Two weeks from yesterday was one of the more entertaining, if not poignant, days I’ve spent in Germany. It was the last full day of my recent extensive stint out there, and Ms. Müller and I spent it wandering around Frankurt am Main.
The length of the trip made it ridiculously strenuous. I spent 7 straight weeks working in power plants. But, I also spent the vast majority of those 7 weeks living the closest thing to a normal, happy life I’ve ever seen. I spent better than a month, an entire month, in the same city. And, with a girl about whom I’m absolutely crazy. I woke up in the morning and kissed Ms. Müller goodbye, went to work all day, came ‘home’ to the hotel, spent the evenings and my few days off with her and her crazy family, and I got to kiss her goodnight. It was delightful.
It was also hard, really hard, to watch it come to an end. But, I think this time (the third time we’ve said goodbye) was a little easier. We both felt strangely fine knowing that the goodbye was temporary; we’ll see each other again soon, one way or another. So we did our best to deny the inevitable and enjoy a beautiful Saturday in the city… Take a look.
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- Strange to see a shirt from my alma mater in Frankfurt. But, judging by his right hand, I’ve gotta say looks like this little dude is going to fit in great at the University of Colorado in a few years. And if you happen to be his parents… sorry?
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- The second occupy movement of the trip.
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- They were having their little hippie jam fest right in front of the giant Euro statue… I wonder if there’s any symbology there…
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- Whoa. Hold up. Are those cassetes?
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- While porcelain Michael Jackson and his porcelain chimp are still the creepiest things I saw on this day, this little mannequin is right up there.
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- Getting some dinner. There aren’t words for how much I miss this girl. Except for those.
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- Well fuck. We’re at the airport now. I guess I have to leave.
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- No thanks.
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- And finally, sitting at an empty gate choking back tears and working on a healthy buzz for the long trip home.
Well, that’s all she wrote. It was a helluva trip. And while I’m glad to be back in the land of English and air conditioning, something tells me I’ll look back on that there month and a half as one of the happier times of my life. And considering the considerable ass-beating I took working out there, that’s saying something. But I’d do it all again tomorrow if they’d let me.
Come back soon for the French Quarter and Bourbon Street…
-B. Littleton
If your Alma Mater is so good at keeping their hands on their dicks how come the school you went to never had to tell their students to stop ejaculating in the showers because it was clogging the drains like mine?
Mr. Johnson-Loven
First let me start by saying that your parents made a rather grave miscalculation when they decided to hyphenate their last names. I’m not sure if you are familiar with the colloquialisms of our time, but your name could be unfortunately misinterpreted to mean one that adores the male genitalia.
As for the body of your insightful, if not highly untruthful comment, it appears you yourself made a very substandard decision when considering which institution at which to pursue your higher education. As I highly doubt that any respectable university would have such a problem with pupil ejaculate, much less inform the students in question of the situation through some sort of letter, that could then be disseminated using the modern avenues of social media, you clearly should have chosen an academy that would have better prepared you for making such fraudulent arguments such as this one.
I shall now respectfully request that in the future you keep such grossly fraudulent assertions to yourself, as they are waste of my invaluable time, not to mention that of my universally distinguished readers.
Salutations,
-B. Littleton
First of all call me Max. And as far as your issue with the credibility of my claim that I attended a university with a more developed proclivity for continuous handling of ones member I can only assume your “institution of higher learning” was akin to a hog pen in which one becomes familiar with the livestock in the biblical style instead of learning to explore the summits and valleys of ones own self as studious young men are wont to do. Most likely founded by persons of Southern persuasion. My only recourse for such a liable statement is to offer up proof as to the morally righteous traditions of my beloved Aggies.
http://t0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRwk210WLvJOj9EH0qkgEPYAqDu7PciGeGGU5eRZVSwwhqzy5q9aQ
I believe this uniform resource locator will guide you to an unassailable bulwark of evidence as to the superiority of the masterbatory collegial atmosphere engendered by the establishment which certifies my degree.
Good Day,
-Max Johnson-Loven