Saturday was BORING: weekends here are hell on wheels: except NO wheels!! So I finally persauded someone to run me in the chair to the organic supermarket on the corner of the street: this involves on my part an act of gross disloyalty to my ‘personal’ turkish greengrocer opposite: fortunately on this occasion the carer accompanying me is even MORE pathetically besotted by the tight-arsed Deniz at the Turkish fruit shop: SO we went there as well: Once in there the situation became almost embarassingly intimate, with me asking Deniz if the family were really Turkish, or Iranian ( a rumour I had heard: not that I have anything to complain about bulging biceps on tight-arsed Iranians, either, god knows!!): BUT they are definitely Turkish: thereupon Deniz decided it was time to note the exact spelling of both our Christian names (they are not fucking idiots: when it comes to gay customer services, these Turkish boys) and to crown it all: insited on giving each of us a present of a bottle of wine: not bad coming from a muslim! So a few more compliments about the wealth of biceps behind the till and Deniz was persuaded to personally give me just that extra little thrust out of his Aladin’s cave of gastronomic goodies!
into the wilds of wilmerstorerstrasse:
Then home to quite a civilised supper of various organic cheeses, including a British camembert from Jersey ( pretty logical if you think bout it: the French call them the Îles anglo-normandes of course:
so this cheese was actually called “le petit normand” (don’t tell them on the mainland or in Brussels!
And a lovely organic Rioja to drink with it: followed by Deniz’s lovingly selected, burstingly ripe Cantaloupe: Yes he does a lovely ripe Cnataloupe, as you no doubt expected: I followed this with a disgusting exhibition of sexual perversion by a young Berlin truckdriver: but you DON’T want to hear about that!, do you!!
Suffice to just know it still goes on ‘back of a pack of dead flats’ as they say in the theatre!
A dull evening compared to Friday which was indeed Disco night in the restaurant here: very lively and mega-loud: one has forgotten just how loud a disco is!! Of course my ex flatmates from Hamburg contrived to ring me from Barcelona with a request for a very urgent translation: just as Tina Turner was well into Nutbush City Limits in my left ear: so we had to go upstairs to the flat: at which point the lift chose to break down, with us fortunately outside of it!! so I had to trip up the 2 flights on foot: which is no difficulty for me nowadays: After that I settled down to a bumper evening of Downton Abbey on DVD: with nothing spicier than a few wistful sex anecdotes related by the night shift carer ( a Bavarian who adores South London: how pperverted CAN you get: he who spent 2 yeras, believe it or not; living in London Catford (YES: he really did: swears by it for gay chav sex!!)
More details to follow!
he alwas astounds me with even more risqué sex tales: