She's back...

Dr. Cocoa Puffs finally returns to the blogging world! No, I wasn't off on some exciting adventure round the world. Nor was I whiling away on the set of a major feature length film. The reason I haven't blogged in so long is quite simple - our stupid, stupid internet connection was down for almost 2 weeks. And the fuckers at 1+1, our DSL provider, were of absolutely no fucking use (sorry for the cursing, Mr. High Steaks, but the situation calls for it). For internet addicts such as the Guitar Hero and Dr. Cocoa Puffs, this was akin to detoxing. Not that I would know what that's like - I'm not stupid enough to give up my beer. And wine. And vodka. At any rate, it wasn't pretty. We actually had to spend much of our vacation talking to each other and were unable to solve arguments such as what season Dirk Benedict left The A-Team because we couldn't access imdb. It caused serious marital strain, and we're not sure if we'll ever recover. But thanks to our friend, known henceforth as the Computer Genius, we're back online, baby! Thank God, and Buddha as well!

By the way, Berlin was great. We ate incredibly yummy Mexican food and I drank my fill of Berliner Weiße and I spent way too much money on red leather boots. But hey, you gotta have red leather boots. Life is too short without them. We also saw the surprisingly decent German film Hotel (to those who don't know: I usually avoid German films because they generally suck. And not in a good way). Some of the dialogue in the film was great - it completely took the piss out of German Spießertum, (my definition of Spießertum is acting like there's a stick up your ass). If you find Germans (or Austrians, as the case may be) often appear to have a stick up their collective asses, you'll probably get a kick out of this film. If you are a German with a stick up your ass, you might recognize yourself in this film. If you are a German and take offense at my opinion that (many, albeit not all) Germans appear to have sticks up their asses, get over yourself. I come from a country of gun-toting bible-beaters yokals, one of whom is president of the goddamn country. Trust me, there are worse things in life than being spießig.

This picture shows us, carefree and unaware of our internet-less state, at the Hackesche Höfe in Berlin. We took my zit along for the trip because it had never been to Berlin. We're generous like that.