Party skills: Germany versus Belgium

Even as a Belgian, I have to admit that Germany is a wonderful country if you like to drink beer. The price for a pils isn’t high at all and the quality is above average. Considering that, it has to give the Germans some kind of advantage when it comes to partying…. At least, if they know how to drink. I had to find out if my presumption was true, so my flatmates and I transformed our place from a house to a party penthouse and invited about 40 Germans to have a great time with us!

At eight o’clock the first guest arrived: the beautiful Simon ‘Showmaker’! But he couldn’t prove if I was right or wrong, since he doesn’t drink that much. An hour later some other invitees found their way too and at eleven the whole kitchen was filled with half-drunk students. Even the hosts were already 'light-headed'.

We decided to give everyone a free shot of tequila… a great idea, ‘cause some minutes later our table became a second dance floor, the first bottles were dropped and the crowd started to move. Finally, we had a party! I remember loving every single person with all my heart. My deepest emotions appeared, which translated itself in a need to give an unseen amount of hugs and running around like a wild lion. ‘Nick, you’re a runner when you’re drunk’. Indeed I am.

I remember some kissing individuals -under whom one lesbian pair-, a guy in a Nazi outfit, some people I didn’t know and tasty pizza. The neighbours didn’t complain! Maybe because God lives in the house next door. It’s a church. Hurray for religion!

 

At 4 o’clock in the morning, the Belgian had to admit that one fourth of the Germans had survived him. Painful, but fair is fair. So, dear Germans, my first compliment for you on this blog: you’re good drinkers. Wasted very easily, but you have the strength to go on and make Satan come back to Earth… and you didn’t doubt to do that. Have a look at the kitchen…. We already cleaned the table.

It was great!

For more info about the party, check out Kim's blog.

For more info about German beers, check out Felix' blog.

Cheers!

Germans and sexuality: "if it breathes, it’s fine"

Since I noticed that my readers –between whom there’s my teacher- like to read about sexuality and all the things that are related to that, I searched for a good subject to write about… and I found it! This weekend I went to Berlin, the European capital of openness and ‘love’. It was great to see this city again, especially the places where I’ve been. There are a lot of nice pubs, fancy clubs and cosy restaurants, but Oranienburg Strasse and Kit Kat Club are definitely THE places to be when you’re interested in getting hugs.

Since Oranienburg Strasse is just a street of prostitutes, it wasn’t that interesting. That’s why I went to Kit Kat, an erotic club situated in the heart of Germany’s biggest city. There was a dress code, which said that you could not wear casual clothing. I wore casual clothing. Fuck my life. Or not, ‘cause I knew someone who works there. She gave me a large piece of silk and smiled. Her malicious pleasure was too obvious.

Since there was not much I could do against it, I removed my clothes and wore it as a skirt. Regret came very soon, since the distinctive gay guys were looking very horny when I walked around in my lovely toga. In the beginning it seemed like all the people that were there had an unsatisfied desire to be themselves. That’s the reason why they –both men and women- wore black leather, costumes or steam punk stuff. It’s a relaxing way of having a beer with congeners. The atmosphere was exuberant and tolerant.

After having a couple of alcoholic drinks, I went to another room to see what was happening there. I was surprised when I saw the decoration. Animated pictures of beautiful blonde females being penetrated by highly unattractive –and probably unsatisfied- old men, a cage, a pole,… In two words: sex paradise. Human beings dressed up as imaginary creatures danced on the intense beat of the loud bass, while others laid on a sofa trying to fuck every object that moved or breathed. Girls giving lap dances, a handicapped guy that had no hands painting sexual scenes on women’s bodies and transvestites trying to hook up with young naïve flowers. It was a new experience to see all these underground actions, so I stayed a while, fascinated by this new, undiscovered world. I felt like Columbus! The Germans really know how to explore their sexuality… and they like it a lot.

When you write a blog, you have to do a lot of shitty things. But for you, my dear readers, I do it with pleasure. See you next week!

Germans and knock-knock jokes

Except for strange toilet meetings, a fascination for football and weird sexual fantasies, the Germans have another non-Belgian habit. The first time I went to the Westfälische Fachhochschule –the university in which I study Journalism and PR- this phenomenon occurred. The teacher explained the political institutions of the country and the pupils were listening to his highly interesting stories when I noticed that the lesson should be over soon. I was shuffling on my very comfortable seat –If you weigh more than 25 kilos your belly will get stuck between the foldable table and your leaning piece- waiting for this nightmare to end. All of a sudden our educator stopped talking. An awkward silence took over the room. During five seconds no one said a single word. What were we supposed to do? Just keep quiet and leave? Wait until the Great Leader would leave the room? I didn’t know, so I managed to stand up. While doing this, a wild uncontrolled noise appeared. It became louder and louder. I thought the Germans were preparing World War Three (kaboom tssjj…stupid joke, part one!).

I looked up and saw all those people knocking on their tables, like monkeys that escaped from the local zoo. What were they doing? I was thinking of a stupid knock-knock joke.

“Knock-knock”

“Who’s there?”

“The Gestapo.”

“The Gestapo who?”

“Ve ask ze questions, du Schwein!”

You’ll never guess that was stupid joke, part two…

It was a disappointment. They were just showing respect by applauding for the teacher. He was smiling. They all have a beautiful smile! It always makes me happy when they proudly show us the wonderful meal they ate the previous day. It makes me hungry sometimes. Besides that, Germans have another school ritual. When they need to pee, they really need to pee. They just stand up in the middle of a lecture, leave the room and do what they need to do. Without asking permission! In Belgium that would be an insult, but here it’s very normal. I don’t know which one shows more respect. In the land of sausages they don’t interrupt anyone, but in the land of beer you want to make sure the teacher knows you’re not in his sight anymore. A hard decision to make. I can’t say what’s best. But I can tell you that the Homo Germanis is a very interesting species to observe…  

Follow me on Twitter: @Nilox_

German porn, no taboos

All European countries have their sexual prejudices. Italians are Casanova’s, the French cheat on their partner, England has a problem with teenage pregnancies, the Dutch go to hookers, the Vatican loves children and the Germans… well… they have Merkel. Not that the world famous chancellor has no sex appeal –I’m sure that some men have a fetish for curvy mature women with a wonderful smile- but to be honest I wouldn’t go for a drink with her. At least not voluntarily. 

Actually, I don’t know what the Germans are famous for. Are it moustaches? No, those are the Turkish people. Long penises? I thought those were the Chin.. euhm, Africans. The only thing that hasn’t been said is a mix of them all: Porn must be the German’s sexual identification! It must have something to do with their language. It’s rough but honest, harsh but balanced, dirty but horny. I’ve never denied that German attracts me in all kinds of ways. There’s nothing more exciting than a girl using it in the right context. Even a word as ‘Schmetterling’ (butterfly) sounds like an invitation to make all your sexual fantasies becoming reality in a few minutes.

After I told my Romanian flatmate about the topic I chose for this blog, he immediately reacted in a non expected way. “Ja, Olga! Straf mich!”, he said in crappy German, while elegantly wiggling his ass and making a slapping movement with his hand. Believe it or not, but that also was the first thing that crossed my mind when I was thinking about this subject for the first time. After asking why he immediately had that image in his head, he explained severely that the first movie he saw after the fall of the Berlin wall was one of this type… and it was German, as all East European pornographic movies in that time. Fascinating, isn’t it?

According to Wikipedia, it’s more than just finding an industry in countries as Romania. The site gives some general information about the beginning of the area and its evolution, but when we scroll down to the year two thousand, we can read some other shit. You can interpret that quite literally… A shred from the encyclopaedia: “Due to popular belief outside of Germany, fecal pornography known as ‘Scheisse porn’ (using the German slang word for faeces) or, more commonly, as ‘Kaviar’ (a generic term) supposedly is particularly popular in Germany.” What the hell did I just read?! The people in this country like to poop on their partner. I can’t imagine Angela doing that. She’s such a hygienic woman!

For the first time I didn’t search for a second source to verify this rather uncomfortable story. If search engines would have noticed my quest for such words, they would send me advertisements that don’t belong on my screen. I do everything to avoid unpleasant moments. Pop-ups always reveal themselves when they’re least welcome, like for example when you and your mother are in the same room.

For the persons who are extremely attracted to this way of making love without emotions, there is a saying: shit happens. But as a tolerant Quaker, I say: “Let us not fight over this shit.”