Bimbo Club

Belgrade hasn't at all changed since I was first there some seven months ago. I used to like the city and most people will - if you are only there for a weekend and stay at hotel Moskva. The city is overpopulated, small, and has nowhere to party for someone out of college (both in budget and mindset). We polled a large number of girls who all confirmed that the places to party are the four blocks in the city center, another street by the river, or river boats (each decrease in space, respectively). Oh, but to get to a river boat you must first got through a gypsy village (avoid driving over chickens) and make yourself a parking spot. I even ventured into a river boat to talk to someone who worked there, but stopped when a homeless man yelled at me to be quiet while he hand fed fed his six kittens. I apologized and left... I mean conceivably that's a better use for the boat then filling it with people and advertising it as party.

The best parts of Belgrade are really only hotel Moskva and the roasted chestnuts.¹

It's anyone's guess as to what's appealing about a sexy rabbit lamp and with legs like that I very much regret not begging for it.

Do not be deceived, this is indeed real ice cream at the cafe in the hotel. I can't say enough wonderful things about hotel Moskva and this is despite them not letting us eat at the restaurant in our bathrobes.

The adventure continues on to Nis, Serbia which I very much recommend visiting. The Emperor Constantine was born here (which is advertised on a sign on the highway) and the city holds other historical sites. The place looks like its been through enough shakedowns to be compared to Timisoara. However, unlike Timisoara they aren't too smart to dutifully maintain their history. You can also actually find a good few places for a repast.

Da skull tower.

We should really bring back the phrase 'for the bones of the saints'.

So we did stay an awful night in Sofia, Bulgaria. No pictures were taken and the city was as I imagine Bucharest to be. A decrepit capital built up by the idea that the place needed a capital city.

Crossing the border into a foggy Turkey felt like the long awaited promise land. The city of Edirne did not disappoint. The place was buzzing with vendors and friendly people pulling carts, tossing fish, and selling fruit. Dogs and cats roamed the streets freely on their own business and the fog finally cleared. It felt like being somewhere new as opposed to another European city with the same problems under a different name.

The shops are so cute that they look goose sized.

Take it from me that dogs in Turkey don't like lamb bones. I tried to give a few dogs a bone and they wouldn't even lift up their heads. I can only imagine what sort of decadent food these dogs get daily from the shopkeepers. You'll have to find another way to tip them for posing for your picture.

On to Istanbul and to the baklava.²

Leaving Istanbul so abruptly meant more than just saying goodbye to a city. The way out was filled with pain, confusion, and mistakes. I have to remember to not attach myself to the feeling of possibility that paved the road on the way in. Reality never matches the dreams that you carry with you. Even Newton died knowing that he wouldn't ever discover alchemy. If I ever again have the chance to return, may I be wiser, better, and more prepared for all that may come.

1. I hate chestnuts but love delivering them. Not many things are more satisfying then searching at night for a vendor, finding one who had just put the nuts to the fire, buying all of them while a line of people form, and sprinting away after he gives you the last bag. You gotta run to ensure a hot delivery to your Master and it also leaves people confused with a story to tell. [↩]
2. I was addicted to baklava back in Chicago. My friend would make Turkish coffee and offer me baklava from one of the Turkish shops in the neighborhood. Turkish coffee takes a lot of concentration to make and she would often burn it as I distracted her by packing bong after bong. I feel nostalgic for those days and her. Living with her in Chicago introduced a whole world of imported food that I get to authentically taste now. [↩]

Back to the first stop of the trip, Vienna. The city is as beautiful as it is functional and it may the last of its kind. You have to go see it now because as I've learned from travel...hardly anything stands the test of time and its mostly just a question of when.

The Spanish Riding School¹

Two old women were gabbin the whole time we were watching the show. One pulls out an apple from her purse and starts chomping on it in front of the horses, so rude. What's next she takes out some sugar cubes and starts licking them?

Schönbrunn Palace

A storefront mouse workin' his storefront.

Belvedere Museum

I have a much greater appreciation for these tools after transcribing the Philosophical Transactions. Give it a read and you'll see what I mean.

The Albertina

I took the train from Vienna to Linz by myself for an infraction that I won't repeat the details of again. I will say though that the train ride was unenjoyable, desperate, and lonely. Not eating for a few days and then running through the train station while random thoughts fill your head with panic and a feeling of uncontrollable loss is a recipe for passing out. All of that being said, the next week was still much more challenging to get through. I was consumed in sadness and failed to take any other pictures besides this one of the platform. My time in Vienna came to an abrupt stop which is also another reason to avoid wasting time and missing out on a city that may never be as great as it is now.²

1. You're not actually allowed to take pictures inside. I got caught and cut off so please enjoy! [↩]
2. A woman in the same car as I was wearing a ball gown length shinny emerald dress with a fur shrug, a hat to match the outfit, and a gladstone bag. She was the perfect character to accompany a person on the train. I was afraid that when my stop was called that I would be stepping onto the platform of 1800's Linz. Regretfully, I did not get a picture of her but I am sure she's somewhere in the world escaping from danger with just enough time. [↩]

So, after Linz but before Brno/Prague we visited Frankfurt. This was a rather sad trip for me. The city itself is so dirty and filled with garbage that you would think the people who live there actually despise it. I stopped keeping track of the amount of rats and we never found aworththemention place to eat or have coffee. The hottest nightlife spot consisted of teenagers drinking bottles of wine outside the city center while blasting US rap. I'd rather live in Timisoara (and that's saying something because I'd rather be in Highland than in Timisoara) and am thankful that we only stayed the amount of time we did. That being said, I only took two pictures:

This is a view from our hotel room as the sunset.

A niche shop filled with so many different kinds of brushes.

Munich similarly let us down and so we skipped Berlin all together. It's a sad thing when a place decays past the point of it's historical value.

Though the thing I won't ever forget about Frankfurt is the first meal we had there. I was a few days off of the harshest sentence I've gotten thus far and listened to some powerful, shocking, true, and heartbreaking things at that meal. I'll continue to reflect on what was said and let it be known that the lesson is not lost on me. However, the shattered feeling of pain still sits with me like a familiar friend on the edge of my bed. Speaking of old friends, I have to say that I am grateful for the man who talked me away from being consumed by anger and despair during this time - thirteen years of consistent, unyielding, vulnerable, love, and honest friendship.

Anyways, on to the small Austrian city of Linz.

View from the top of the Pöstlingberg.¹

It's an incredible thing to feel so small while standing on top of the world. The trees in Europe during fall are absolutely beautiful and I missed the season while in Costa Rica.

Gnome house and the first hint that we should have hit the dirt and gotten out of there.

Because gnomes are fucking evil. The little bastards took over the forests and imprison all of the bears. Look how creepily they build things.

Clearly they also force the bears do drugs and have cubs so that they can put them to work being stung by bees and harvesting honey. Poor bear is stuck in a tiny cage.

And the tiger is so desperate to escape from the evil enslavement and propaganda machine that the gnomes built a city from.²

Definitely poison.

A city filled with death, destruction, and enslavement of forest animals. Never trust a gnome.

1. Look up the Johnstown Inclined Plane sometime. [↩]
2. Walking through this story time village felt like I was in game of Rampage. [↩]

Have you ever visited a new country only for a few days with the intention of 'trying it out to see if it's worth coming back to'? I hadn't either until Prague. Our plans changed significantly¹, as plans tend to do, and we landed in Brno² for a night without a clear idea of which city (or country for that matter) would be next. Let's say we drew straws and la fortuna was with Prague.

& Prague fucking delivered! We spent the first day finding out what the city is all about. Trust that my pictures don't do justice to the beauty of the buildings that line even the 'New Town' in Prague.³

I'll be back for you.

annd for you.

We hit up the town at night to chat up girls and I had a lot of fun. Let's do some bimbo highlights!

- When asking a girl where the good bars/clubs are, she blurted out a word in Czech and then followed up with - 'just search for the long street' you'll find it. Bitch, we searched long street and it took us through three continents. If you're curious I had her write it down and the street she was referring to is actually called Dlouhá.

- Jamaican club promoters entice girls into their clubs by encouraging them to, "don't be shy move your body!" And you know it worked as a few girls shrugged their shoulders and followed them. Note to self: get a sheep dog.

- We found a pair of Russian girls outside of a rock club. One girl whose name I can't remember and another girl named Stella. Noname promised to take the three of us to a Canadian party hosted by some people from her college. In the end it was only a club with around ten people in it so we bailed, but not before noname had a drunk girl breakdown. Wherein she rapped Cardi B (Never imagine id hear a Russian girl rap Cardi in Prague. While you were say you did.), chastised Stella for not fucking more girls, and then begged her to sleep over....We drove Stella home and had some fun telling her about the thrills of slavelife.

Back in time for the strip club.⁴

Europe has really severely disappointed me with their strip clubs...surcharges for girls, pasties, couches on the stage..etc. That being said, Prague has a club called Darling Cabaret that was deemed worth a try. I'm on strict orders to not scuff these boots until July so naturally we walked from the wine bar (where we met up with the aforementioned Stella) to the club. The club was alright, as in the music was somewhat better and the girls were actually using the pole. We were too indecent for the STRIP CLUB staff though as the hosts got bitchy about the lack of underwear. The girls who work at Hooters in Costa Rica have a way better attitude and understanding of how to have a good time. Needless to say, it's rather unpleasant to be surrounded by sulking girls who are bitterly policing each other for the wrong reasons. In the end, and as usual the club itself was boring and the party came and left with us.

Do you see what I mean though? The hotel lobby suddenly becomes a much better party then the premiere night club.

I took the shot above at around 6AM on my way to extract Florimund from his own adventure. It's always nice to walk in a city as the sun rises. This also brings to end our first trip to Prague as we spent a few days in Budapest before returning. The remaining pictures are from the second week long trip.

I was running errands and ended up at the nail salon, wherein I asked the man working if he could do letters and he said he indeed can within the time frame that I needed to meet Hannah. Great. I wrote on a piece of paper the words JUICY BIMBO. The more times he repeated juicy bimbo the more humiliating the situation became and the louder I agreed. The other woman working in the salon asked if I was getting the design done for Halloween, maybe? Nope, just another day I told her- honestly smiling as hard as I could. It was a tiny salon and only the three of us. I spent the majority of the time watching the clock before another girl walked in. She sat down next to me and the other woman started working on her, but first the girl argued with her with comments like, "I can't get that nude my friends will make fun of me, why I can't I do something longer, no my friends not coming she's asleep, are these really the only nudes you have..." The bitchier she got the more I wanted her to catch on to what was going on with me. Someone called her and when I heard "Ce faci" I couldn't wait. Finally the man working on my nails again spelled out loud juicy bimbo and I felt the girl freeze. Until I was done in another thirty minutes she said absolutely nothing and barely moved. Finally when my sparkly pink nails were finished she then asked if she could take a picture and could barely mumble answers to the questions I asked in an attempt to make conversation (Interesting she had no problem asking for a picture but actual conversation was out of the question.) Before she finished answering I said OK great and picked up my one stripper shoe⁵ and was on my way just in time to meet Hannah for coffee and cake.

Andd back as promised for the sweet sweet edibles. Prague has a market of mushrooms, edibles, weed,..etc. sold at convenience stores around the city. Pretty cool in theory but the cookies and gummies we got were extremely weak. I imagine as with most things drug related its about who you know.

On to the National Museum....

Upper floor, anyone?

A log cabin made by a goose.

I think they are trying to tell us something.... Most museums will have large signs to direct you towards their display pieces but not in Prague. The museum is so empty that all is needed is a small sign that sort of somewhat looks like what could be displayed - you really can't miss it.

1. More on the Germany debacle later - we're going back in time here on bimbo club. [↩]
2. For my Indiana readers, Brno is a city in the Czech Republic. [↩]
3. I'll refer you to Trilema for that. [↩]
4. Master also graced me with these beautiful red boots. To think that I used to go into work everyday and sarcastically tell people I was living the dream. [↩]
5. I broke my pleasers while in Kiev and needed to get them fixed before returning to Romania. Simply because getting this done in Romania would have taken a week of research and two days wasted of negotiating with people who do not want to work. In Prague I dropped off the shoe and it was done the very next day. [↩]