Yes, so, the “northern route” to Berlin I think is over for me. I see no reason to ever go back there, now Stuttgarter Platz’s golden age is over. So the only route that remains is the “southern route”—Brussels to Munich to Vienna. Second beer gone. 925pm. I expect nothing from Intime or the Reves or the Livourne places, except real rip off expensive hostess bars, a fortune just to buy a girl a drink. Another reason why Fifth Avenue is so wonderful (despite the sad dearth of quality girls); if you want to buy a girl a drink it is normal prices, same for them as for you. Munich died for me when they put private dances up from 25 euros to 50 euros, whenever that happened. And it is funny how it is uniform across every club you go to—in every club it was 25, now in every club it’s 50. It is almost like the city government sets the price for private dances—is that the case? Part of the licencing stipulations (stripulations)? If one club was allowed to undercut the others they would do roaring trade but they do not. One can only presume they are not allowed to. A far cry from the glory days back in 2003, 2004, when Patricia let me get my man out and put some kitchen roll over her breasts to catch the result. Don’t think that kind of thing would happen now. The emasculation-sterilisation-castration of old male Europe continues. The human race will die out eventually; that is the end result of damming up men’s juices in this way. Kind of like where they burn books they will eventually burn people. Where they ban masturbation/pornography/stripclubs they will ban sex. Then the feminazis and the Islamists will be happy. For god’s sake Europe, stand up for your old Priapic rights! One fears it is too late, the tide is already irreversible.
Soho is dead now for me, of course; as is Berlin. As is Munich. Just Brussels and Vienna left. Brussels once a month and Vienna twice a year perhaps. I’ve learnt getting the Megabus to Brussels IS a viable and not TOO painful option (for just £20 or so!); but no way would I get the coach back—waiting in the freezing cold outside Gare du Nord station at 1am for a bus that may never be turning up, and if it does no idea if it is full up with screaming teenagers or football hooligans.
I feel so at home in the Max Hotel. I really could live here. If I was able to do that, I would be a happy man. Sadly, I do have to work in London—in a very lovely job. And yes the Cine Paris films have been crap again, the street girls have been crap again, the 5th Avenue girls are really crap, the Empire dancers are really crap—but it doesn’t matter; it is enough that these places exist. Finding the occasional diamond in these places is worth the wait. There was AMAZING quality in the Nuremberg windows and laufhauses and I did nothing with any of them. It is about finding places I feel comfortable, and I have that in Brussels. I will wait for the odd diamond to come to the surface; hopefully one day soon these jihadist losers will fade away and Brussels can really start to bloom & blossom again (erotically speaking). Berlin for me is dead, erotically speaking. When Stuttgarter Platz was wiped out, then for me Berlin was wiped out. The memories from those nights in Hanky Panky, Mon Cheri and Golden Gate in particular are so strong, so glorious. Munich for me is dead, erotically speaking, nothing on offer except 50 euro private dances! Waste of time and money. And Nuremberg I don’t think I will return to. So that leaves Brussels and Vienna. And from this week’s experience NOTE TO SELF—no more long train journeys in summer. So Brussels only for summer. Vienna can wait for winter.
Like Soho has dried up, Berlin has completely dried up. Christ in Soho I had my Italian magazines shop, you had doorways, clip-joints with floozies standing in their stockings and skimpy clothes. You had Sunset Strip, Carnival, Boulevard Strip, Astral Cinema, Sunset Cinema, Soho Cinema. Models flats everywhere in every street. Now all the porn cinemas are gone, and just one strip club left, Sunset Strip. Berlin has seen the same drying up of the erotic places. I went to Berlin after Soho dried up, but now Berlin has dried up too. 0336 Tuesday morning.
Back in 2003-2004, Berlin was an erotic paradise for me. Already it has almost all gone. 90% of Stutti shut down & reopened as respectable cafes, bars and businesses, the 3 clubs in Lietzenburger Straße all gone as well. In Brussels already lost Cine ABC, California Peep Show, Paradise Peep Show. In Vienna Pour Platin and Fortuna Kino.
My enduring fantasy, I am little boy for some reason staying with his schoolteacher, in some leafy steamy paradise. She walking around in swimsuits or nothing at all. F–king him. This will be my book. My Under the Hill. My Willing Cheeks. Berlin? My erotic education.
I used to call it the Kunthotel, in Kuntstraße. I was so uninspired and unaroused this time it never even crossed my mind. In those days the glorious floozies of Hanky Panky, Chocolat, Mon Cheri, Starlight, Night Dreams, Golden Gate, Blue Bananas, Sissi and Monte Carlo took me to erotic highs I had never known before in my life. Those days are long gone.