Yearly archives: 2007

dumpsters are for lovers

“Oh my god do you think they’re closing?”
We were standing in front of our favorite Konsum, pretending to be on a late-night stroll while waiting for the S-Bahn to haul away the twenty people standing across the street. We both looked at the boarded up windows and missing sign with furrowed brows.
“No look!” Markus said. “The shopping carts are still there. They’re probably just renovating.”
I sighed. “I fucking hope so.” That dumpster is the yogurt and expensive cheese dumpster, and my personal favorite. And if the Konsum here closes, there won’t be any more Friday [...]


The Chemiefabrik (Chemical Factory) is where Dresden punk shows run off to when the noise complaints from AZ Conni’s neighbors start to become a problem. Every Thursday they have Jugendtanz (Youth Dance) there as well. But don’t bother with that. The music is terrible, and on the days when it’s a little less terrible, it’s still not worth the entrance fee. Even if you can sometimes buy your way in with dumpstered honey.
I don’t know if the Chemiefabrik was ever really a chemical factory. There are other industrial buildings in the area, and one story [...]

how to become a grumpy old man at 25

Once upon a time in a faraway land where democracy existed and communism wasn’t boring, there lived a girl who saw a demonstration and thought Look! Something happening! People accomplishing things. Change! Hope! Momentum! And she joined the demonstration, and she felt inspired.
Eventually though, she grew weary of the demonstrations. Of the aggressive police trolls. Of wasting time and energy expressing her discontent through pre-approved sanitized-for-your-protection child-proof pasteurized plastic-wrapped tactics. And she saw demonstrations for what they had become. Yet another opiate on the long list of opiates for the people. [...]

dresden: industrie gebiet & klotzsche

As you ride north on Königsbrücker the city begins to unravel, buildings slowly becoming sparser, spreading themselves out between abandoned lots until the trees are growing on the buildings themselves and you find yourself in a tiny city, mostly abandoned: the industrial district. To get inside you can climb over fences from the front, or up a hill and through apocalyptic-looking piles of rubble from the Heide behind. Some of the buildings remain in use, while the rest form a labyrinth of architectural corpses, innards gutted and removed, a horror-film-soundtrack dripdroping to the offbeat meow of a lost [...]

operation dresden wg

Wohngemeinschaft (WG) noun: 1 a number of persons living together in one apartment, usually co-operatively
I fell in love with the stairwell before I even saw the apartment.  Old concrete walls chipped in places, as if the shrapnel had walked in the front door and gone upstairs.  Something happened to you in that stairwell. A musty spell released by a foot on a step, in just the right light.  Time was suspended, and disbelief, a dark banister leading you somewhere, you didn’t know where, but somewhere, a mystery, pulling you further inside. Anything could have been up those stairs.  A [...]

welcome to dresden

The only thing that can save us now is five gallons of juice, Laugenbrötchen, and three packs of mozzarella cheese, I’m sure of it.
I’d woken up to a text from A. “Life is pain,” it’d said. I had nodded, dizzy, not quite sober, wondering if she could read my mind or if she was as hung over as I was. Note to self: do not have grand finale goodbye party BEFORE carrying all your belongings down the five flights of winding stairs. Life is pain.
J, M, and I exchanged half-awake, half-sober grimaces. If I didn’t drag myself down the [...]

just the right bullets

Bzzzzzz. Tzzzzzz. Bpfiiif! The little-kid-on-christmas-eve feeling that’s crowding my head right now, and making it impossible to accomplish anything except running around my apartment in circles in between half-read paragraphs of Despite Everything.Well, ok, I also washed a dish. Maybe even two. I’m not too keen on having the fruit flies squat my place while I’m gone. And I’m sure as hell not going to have time to wash dishes tomorrow. I’ll be on the way to Karlsruhe where I’m meeting Mr.-Someone-or-Other Jochem (if I disappear, find him and kill him) who’s driving me to Amsterdam. (Pray he doesn’t force [...]

yawn, stretch, zzzzzzzzz.

There are a number of reasons that I could be feeling the way that I do. Eighty percent of my food comes out of a dumpster. I wake up at the ass crack of dawn and go to Neu Isenburg hungover on three hours of sleep. The weather is fucking crazy schizophrenic. I smoke things. I just stopped drinking coffee.
Ding ding ding! I think we have a winner, Alex.
After a week of panic attacks, I figured I better start cutting a chemical or two out of my life. Coffee gone. Panic gone. Except now it’s kind of like I [...]

one, two, three.

It’s the guy with the blonde mohawk’s birthday, and I think I just punched him in the face.
But if I did, it was a right friendly punch. Sensa Yuma is playing the Au, and everybody’s dancing like a writhing lunatic. You could call it moshing. But you’d be wrong. This is a collective orgasm.
I danced so hard that I had to stop and rest against the wall. I guess that’s when I met Will. We exchanged giddy grins, both in a panting search for our breath. I motioned with my hands, one finger, two, three, and we both jumped back [...]