Square Is The New Black

Where to start? Let's start at the end.

In Berlin I stayed at Winter's Berlin Mitte which was a typical, pleasant European hotel. There was one weird thing about the room. Actually, it was the bathroom. Here's a picture.

I don't know if every room is the same or if I just lucked into the SpongeBob SquareAss suite. You are familiar with the saying, "You can't put a round peg in a square hole." That was coined by the first guy to stuff up one of these square toilets.

The hotel was right around the corner from Checkpoint Charlie, which frankly isn't very interesting. Also nearby, and much more interesting, was this "University" that I believe might just be a front for something else.
Also conveniently right around the corner was this embassy, formerly a pizzeria.
More to come.

Schokolade, šokolaad, шоколад, suklaa, choklad and chokolade

As I'm sure I've noted before, when I leave a country I generally use my leftover currency to buy chocolate.
After two weeks visiting six different countries that use five different currencies, that's a lot of chocolate. Here's the haul for the trip (minus what I already ate).

I like to get chocolate that's made in the county I'm in but that is not always possible. In the middle of the picture is what I think is chocolate from Russia. According to babelfish, the Russian word for chocolate is шоколад so I should be in good shape. More to come...

You Will Not Become Rich Preventing The Camel Toe From Passing Through The Bikini

Just when I think I'm getting out...

I need a product that covers half of an ass. For example, because my company classifies the Cuchini as "adult material" I can only write a half-assed review of it, based on this Gizmodo post.

Anyway, as must be obvious, Cuchini is a combination of cooch and bikini (or maybe zucchini). My half-assed view is that it is a hard piece of leather that is inserted into a woman's...hey, don't get ahead of me here...is inserted into a woman's panties or bikini (or jeans if she's going "commando"). Kind of like a panty liner but instead of absorbing fluids, it absorbs lines/creases/crevices/cravasses (depending on a woman's age, sexual experience and whether her boyfriend is referred to as "soup can man" or not).

Unlike a panty liner, this thing does not breath (huh huh huh); it suffocates. You know the difference between the smell of feet that are in mesh sneakers versus those that are trapped in leather all day? I guess that's not an issue as anyone concerned about showing their puff daddy is probably already using some kind of nethers deodorant.

Now, attach a little motor with an offset weight and you've got yourself a product!

Hey sweetie, your phone is ringing.

Thanks to the Albaniac for this one!

Krona, Krooni and Krones

I'm leaving for my trip in a few days so don't expect any posts until around Memorial Day. Traveling is my last hope to resurrect this blog.

She Has A Nice Badinkadink

I don't understand how this Solo Triangle music CD isn't a joke. What am I missing?

Better Than A Bud Light From The Mini-Fridge

Thanks to Lianablog I now know my NPR name is Ejay Altenahr. (EE-jay AHL-ten-ahr)

As she explains:

You take your middle initial and insert it somewhere into your first name. Then you add on the smallest foreign town you’ve ever visited.

Actually, there are probably smaller towns I've visited but Altenahr (pop. ~1000) is small enough and sounds pretty good.

Thank you for tuning in. I'm Ejay Altenahr reporting from Bumf*ck, Egypt.

We Need a Post Office Version Of ELIZA

I want to send this certified. I need this to be in Florida by Friday. I need to be able to track this.

No matter what I asked for, the post office always knew what I meant...until today. Sure, sure, I am partly to blame. I asked for "proof of mailing" instead of "certificate of mailing" but any post officer worth their salt should know what I'm talking about.

PO: Do you want to send this certified?
me: No. I just want proof of mailing.
PO: If you want proof of receipt, you need to send it certified, return receipt.
me: I don't need to know they got it. I just need proof I sent it.
PO: Do you want to send it priority?
me: I just want to send it First Class.
PO: Do you want a certificate or a receipt?
me: What's the difference?
PO: The certificate is $1.10 and has the address. The receipt has only the city and state you mailed to.

Ah, here's where I made my error. I did want the certificate. But the $1.10 through me off. My Asperger-y brain thought $1.10 was the charge for certified mail (and it probably was back in 1992) and so I said:

me: Just the receipt.
PO: That'll be $0.76

And then I knew I f*cked up but certainly I was not going to admit that! That'd be like asking for directions at a gas station.

So, I'll save my useless receipt and wait for my check to be cashed. And dream of inventing a gadget that would do for the post office what the GPS did for gas stations.