Repressed and randy back in London, I dream of —— black bob in 5th Avenue and Inna and Mariana.
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.
A brief visit to Cine Paris. I hate the fact when I go into a porn cinema I immediately don’t want to stay, don’t like the film; I have to force myself to sit down and force myself to stay there and only then can I get into the films. Straight out to Café Jimmy and the Pelican girls outside. Are you a Peli-can or a Peli-can’t? Beatrice, as usual, the pick of the bunch. No music on the TV so I pressed on to Fifth Avenue and was shocked to see Inna there! So early! Then an old man came in and went straight to her, hugging & kissing & they very soon went to a room, so presumably she came in early for him. Anyway a real pleasure to see her; she does have that fresh bloom of sexiness on her that marks her out as different from all the other girls there, I’m afraid. So another cheap day in Brussels, just 55 euros or so. Left Fifth Avenue starving hungry, brought a Domino’s Pizza back to the hotel then sleep. A horrible night of indigestion, and here I am back in the Max lounge at 930am. Awfully early.
So let me start to record my thoughts and impressions, for my readers; for my hundreds of FOLLOWERS. So I got through just 40 euros on my first day (evening) in Brussels (60 euros if you count the 20 euros the taxi cost me, with a generous tip). I don’t know if it was arriving late—in my hotel at 640pm—but I felt completely sexless. Not in the mood for anything. After a couple of beers in the hotel I went straight to a very quiet Fifth Avenue and the girls were pretty rubbish; but I said this on my last visit, on the first night, but then Inna walked in and brought the place (and me) to life; unfortunately this time Inna never walked in so after 2 beers I left. It occurred to me it is quite useful to rate Fifth Avenue by how many beers I stay there for: this time therefore I would rate it as just a very poor 2/10.
“I still think there must be an Esmeralda out there with my name on her but I may never find her” I wrote in 2010 after my one night Vienna visit, where I discovered Pour Platin shut down. Well, yes I have found her haven’t I—FROM Twelfth Night 2014 trip to Vienna under Wagnerian skies and Fortuna Blonde, Amanda WSK, Andrea, Julia and Lucy in 5th Avenue, Adelina in Manhattan, not to mention the great times I had in Soho with Zara, Maria, Lavinia, Marianna, etc. Loyalty and fidelity weighed me down, and then for most of the past 12 months the pox weighed me down.
Sure I just passed the Fifth Avenue Perrie Edwards on coming back from the shoe shops. She looked much rougher in the cold light of day, to be honest; reinforcing my original contention that Fifth Avenue is now Inna and nothing but Inna. But it is always better to have choice—to have only 1 fantastic stripper in a strip club is boring; to have only 1 fantastic floozie in a knocking shop is boring. Choice increases the excitement, even if you only ultimately stick to your favourite.
So Wednesday night after my return from Nuremberg, it was so late by the time I left the hotel I headed straight to Fifth Avenue. Inna behind the bar pulling beers. Then later by the urinals. She was sweet, and simpatico, tactile, so I think she must have a good feeling towards me since our encounter; I myself, as I said, have no memory of it. Later, as she returned behind the bar, she touched my arm with her hand; another good sign. She is the ONLY girl there now of any interest. It is sad. Fifth Avenue now IS Inna. Back in my first discovery of the place there would always be 4 or 5 alternatives. Now just her. Really sad. I think the terrorisms has scared off so many quality girls. Inna went to the room quite soon with another man, so I left at that point and headed down to Ciné Paris. The doors were open but the lady was hovering and the cinema lights were on, and the show had already finished. It was only just after 10pm. Down to Empire but no girls of any interest—no Manuela & no Jennifer that means—so I left after 1 beer. So another cheap day in Brussels. In Nuremberg the kabins were closed so I just had 3 beers in Bella Napoli and that was it. In Brussels just the beers in Fifth Avenue, but Ciné Paris was closed, so two very cheap nights. Still 225 euros in my pocket for Thursday and Friday.