The Cine ABC and California Peep Show & videokabins next to it both STILL horrible empty shells; the people campaign to close down these disgusting sleazy places, but what takes their place? Nothing. Complete lack of any life at all, or in Stuttgarter Platz’s case just more bars, more drinking establishments. So much better? More life, more life-force, more passion, in the naughty places. 345PM. My Eurostar departs in 2 hours 11 minutes. And let’s hope I’ll be on it. Pink Like a Pill (Brussels, 2001, proper proper old school). One of my ur-songs.
I feel so at home in the Max Hotel. I really could live here. If I was able to do that, I would be a happy man. Sadly, I do have to work in London—in a very lovely job. And yes the Cine Paris films have been crap again, the street girls have been crap again, the 5th Avenue girls are really crap, the Empire dancers are really crap—but it doesn’t matter; it is enough that these places exist. Finding the occasional diamond in these places is worth the wait. There was AMAZING quality in the Nuremberg windows and laufhauses and I did nothing with any of them. It is about finding places I feel comfortable, and I have that in Brussels. I will wait for the odd diamond to come to the surface; hopefully one day soon these jihadist losers will fade away and Brussels can really start to bloom & blossom again (erotically speaking). Berlin for me is dead, erotically speaking. When Stuttgarter Platz was wiped out, then for me Berlin was wiped out. The memories from those nights in Hanky Panky, Mon Cheri and Golden Gate in particular are so strong, so glorious. Munich for me is dead, erotically speaking, nothing on offer except 50 euro private dances! Waste of time and money. And Nuremberg I don’t think I will return to. So that leaves Brussels and Vienna. And from this week’s experience NOTE TO SELF—no more long train journeys in summer. So Brussels only for summer. Vienna can wait for winter.
The Kanthotel no longer has minibars, but you can collect ice cold bottles of beer (or draught beer) from the reception so that’s OK. The staff now all wear uniforms; last time I stayed that sexy receptionist was always in tight fluffy sweaters of different colours. Figure-hugging. So yes, lovely to be so close to Monte Carlo and Sissi Bar but how lonely and out of place they now look, surrounded by “respectable” businesses. They LOOKED like an anachronism. 12 midday on my first beer of the day. Cold, but sunny outside. Hopefully it will be raining before I go out. Well, I take it back, a new blonde receptionist in a black lace top.
So my next holiday? Well, perhaps back to Berlin. Yes. Stuttgarter Platz has been wiped out with just Sissi Bar and Monte Carlo left but there is something so low-down sleazy about those two places that I like (and let’s face it, they are cheap, which is the sexiest thing of all). And if King George really is just 49 euros for entry, then worth trying that again. Oh, it would be lovely if I could just let myself go and f–k someone tonight but I don’t think it is going to happen. Apart from Denisa, the Manhattan’s current crop of girls—apparently sans Adelina—depresses me. Tete a Tete is at least cheaper, just 6 euros for a beer. If I go late enough, there may be some dancing.