this post brought to you from munich, germany, where the y and the z have been switched on the keyboard, where the @ sign must be achieved through previously unknown keyboard shortcuts, from the capital of nazi germany, where the sun rises nine full hours earlier than it does over the small town in which i go to university, from "the world's most livable city", from 24 degrees Celcius and i dont even know what that really means except, yeah, this is nice.

ich spreche nicht deutsch?

my cousin and i -- with whom, by the way, i have never spent more than 24 hours prior to this trip -- are currently staying in a hostel whose name attracts an ungainly percentage of austrailians. second to austrailians in number are the british, and then our own idiot americanas, fatly waving our flag at no3. last night, the cousin went out to drink with three irish students who are sharing a room with us, and has spent the day hitherto in less than full form.

the hostel therefore functions primarily in english, which is nice -- coming in from the humid street after a day of aggressively sans-serif letters strung together in combinations that approach total madness -- "it is like the language drank too much beer and so began to slur all of its words together", or "the dictionary collapsed in on itself". on the other hand, the cous and i are having a wonderful time learning about butchering this linguistic atrocity, and it would be fun to try and communicate in spanish-french-quasigerman watercolors of sound with strangers and, well, see how far we could get before everything would fall totally to pieces. das ict ... broccoli. or, rather, Broccoli.

it is also really interesting to see strange translations from german to english -- it is the same sort of flavor as engrish, though it is the syntax that devlopes a strange flavor. i cant think of any immediate examples, especially since my time on this poooter is running short.

went to dachau, was sobering, flocks of german teens laughing irreverantly in the gas chambers.

alright.