I cannot believe the snow is not more to be seen in such a short period of time. After all I will miss the slippery morning sensation and the contusions derived from falling in painfully shameful ways.
These swans are to be seen in the Landwehrkanal if you go to buy vegetables, bread, honey or funny underwear to the Turkish Market that takes place in Maybachufer Strasse every Tuesday and Friday.
I always liked the name “Ape” for this miniest of mini-transport vehicles. It seemed so incongruous.
Well I found out the Ape is actually made by the Italians who brought you Vespa and is pronounced “ah-pay”, which translates to the more fitting “wasp”.
The orange box can be removed to reveal a quick and dainty chick-corral. That may seem like icing on the cake to you and me, but it’s an absolute must-have for the Ape’s target demographic: professional calendar cats who operate miniature farms.
I also dig the badge. The slinky lettering is nice, as is the “P” that pops out as if it were crammed into a box.
Best of all, at the end of the day the little cavallo transforms into a loud but powerful espresso machine.
Here is our local bulk wurst counter. The bold scent of sour pork permeates the entire market hall in which it is housed. The women running the place, who look like addled car hops, are normally either frazzlin’-out behind the counter (pictured above) or smoking cigarettes in front of it. Who can blame them for improving the wurstie air with tobacco smoke? If baristas come to despise the smell of their daily drudge, God save the wurst frauen.
While the smell of the wurst counter is all too realistic, the iconography is anything but. Here we see a few scenes from the merry lives of meat products. This probably gives you a feeling like, “würstchen are not so different myself and other people I know”.True, the curvature of a wurst is similar to that of a jaunty human torso. Also true that the nub of cinched sausage casing bears an uncanny resemblance to a shock of hair, or some such thing. And of course the wurst hue is pretty much spot-on normal human color.However, this misses the whole point of the piece: wurst are not like us; they are not created equal.The top two sausages pictured above, while probably very nice, are clearly defective one-offs. No wonder the one at the top is so shy, he’s more orange than tan and his arms are completely white–likely the result of some chemical cover up for a lack of naturally occuring gloves. The next one down has shed his acoutrements altogether and gone completely AWOL. He’s not even trying to be eaten anymore and will most likely end up rotting in a crawlspace whenever he runs out of steam.But how about those dapper chaps down below? They reek of class. Their easy grins connote a bullion-backed confidence that is beyond reproach. You could hate on them, but why not instead commence a mutually rewarding consumer-consumee relationship with your new trusted friends?By the way, the hat-tipping wurst in the top picture walks just like Avon Barksdale from The Wire. Who’s gonna step to that?
Mo-Fr 9:3o – 2o.oo Uhr und Sa 9:3o – 2o.oo Uhr
In Volkspark Rehberge (U6) you can see some wild boars. You can smell them from further away as well.
There are other animals in this park, all of them are caged so they do not eat the unlikely tourists/get eaten by the unlikely tourists.
It feels good to enter the U-Bahn only to find (at last!) advertising that actually gives you good advice…
By the way… have you ever seen all those posters in the U-Bahn asking for people who is willing to try medicaments for pharmaceutical companies? How legal is that? How much do they pay? Where do they bury the corpses?