it's not you I'm looking at...

Ah, Friday

Started by seeing 3 short films as part of the Starz 'Erotic Autumn' series. The crowd consisted primarily of creepy guys alone and women aged 60 years and up. Which pretty much confirms my theory - but that's another story....
Oh, and the films weren't very erotic or entertaining sad to say. Though the first one contained a majority of the castmembers of The Soprano's.

Then, while walking over to Lime to rendezvous with some swiss hotties, got stuck in Oktoberfest. I'm pretty sure my private hell will be some sort of amusement park, carnival, street fair combination with swirling ferris wheels, hawkers with large teeth yelling at me, cotton candy stuck to my fingers and gum under my shoes. There will be walls of people leering and pushing and stopping and the stink of funnel cakes, spilt beer and fried who-know-whats will permeate my very being. And, no thanks to Sarte, I'll have no eyelids with which to block it out.

Thankfully a tequila shot and a few marg's were able to calm me down - a little. The theme in that basement below the chicken hat wearing, german for the night, lederhose loving masses was self-flagellation. People are so fascinating, amazing what they'll put up with - or put themselves through.

I was glad to head home.