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.
Coldplay the Scientist on Go TV. How incredibly evocative. Blood on the tracks in Munich.
Yes I think I will enjoy Vienna more in October if I go back free of the pox. Much more free to f–k anyone in Tete or Manhattan, or WSK of course. And I can enjoy stopping off in Munich now I am setting To Confound there, and can look for Wedekind’s grave.
Interesting to learn or be reminded that Wedekind spent most of his life in Munich and died there, and is buried there. In same cemetery is Heisenberg who invented quantum physics, and Leni Riefenstahl. Would also like to visit his house if I could find it.
Now I WANT to go to Munich! I want to stand in the portico of the Justizpalast again. Don’t care how rubbish Atlantic City is or how expensive the private dances or pushy the girls. Don’t care. It is the memories. It is the wellstone, the lodestone. Bella Rosa Jay Z Build the Sands on You. Patricia handjob coming over her breasts. Emily running cotton wool bud dipped in champagne around head of my penis. Extraordinary nights in Munich. Irina! “I want to come back to your hotel!” Suzy. Viktoria. Surely I could find SOME new excitement in Munich???
This makes me WANT to return to Munich now. Expecting nothing of course, but for its prime importance to me. And in expecting nothing I can once again derive pleasure from it I am sure. Yes always has to be Munich on the way to Vienna. A cheap Schillerstraße hotel. To Confound is part 1, I shrivel up in morning light is part 2, The Stripper is part 3. Taking me up to stomach flu, and end of marriage. What a big day this feels. Released by Inna and Mariana in Brussels I am sure.
I wake up with dream of two boys who had composed a fantastic dance club song, then that quote “he besmirched his sight to betray himself”, then I looked at To Confound and suddenly realised it needed to undergo that sudden mutation and attacked it with relish. It is the birth of Fantomas. From chrysalis weak white face in asylum to emerging as butterfly above Munich. “He seems to be enjoying it!”. Because I was BORN in Munich, really. Born after Sarah, born when I first had sex with Carla and Rachel, BORN when I arrived in Munich.