message to maas.
about four years ago i was living in london for the first time with my then-girlfriend. the 'gangsta-innit' R+B girls we moved into the house with disappeared in the night (literally, with one of them) so we did the usual posters, shop-cards etc to get some new flatmates and save our necks and the rent kicking us in the pants
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Crazy Germans.. one came to stay at our house in Sydney once, for 2 days. He was a friend of one of my housemates, and decided to take him out 'on the town' one night. Before we went out, he wanted to cook us a meal, which he did, namely spaghetti. And I dont mean spaghetti, with some kind of sauce, and a bit of cheese; simple, tasty, quick- I mean just Spaghetti. At the time, noone said anything, at the risk of being rude- we ate the whole fucking dish of it. It did make us laugh though. We went out and started drinking, and about 5 pints later, he had passed out with his head on the table of the bar we were drinking at. We checked he was alive, and thought it would do no harm to leave him there for a while, and all was good for about an hour. The first note of 'Tragedy' by ABBA blears over the cheapo, too loud sound system, and his eyes flick open, his head still firmly pressed agains the table at this point. By the end of the second bar, he is stood on the table- I imagine completely unaware of what is going on- hands in the air singing along. After about 20 seconds, he jumps off the table, landing with one foot closer to the ground, and sprawls himself over the floor. With dignity intact, he stands up straight, walks proudly out of the bar, and throws up just outside the door. At this point, most people in the bar are watching him with a kind of astonished curiosity, and have no difficulty watching him vomit, the bar having an all-glass front, as many posh bars will.
here's to crazy germans.
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