It's been two months now since I last donned a pair of pyjama trousers, which everyone knows is the cornerstone of a good nights rest and general emotional stability. I don't know why I did it, three pairs of jeans and not one pair of pants to goon away the night in was never going to be the right choice. And the deprivation is all coming to surface. Nervous tension, the eye twitch, cold feet, signs of early arthritisism and lets not forget the occasional outbursts of trouser related fear and regret.
But that's all changed now. I thought it was just going to be another routine snoop of the apartment pulling out old lover letters and English style guides for high achieving American Phd-er's. But everything was gonna change as soon as my hand brushed against some material stuck underneath our sub-lettor's bed. Which turned out to be fisherman's pants. FISHERMAN'S PANTS. The overalls in soft textile. I am now wearing these ridiculous trousers in a state of high, high relaxation. But its come at a cost. Just as a feel too silly to write in a Moleskine 'just like Hemingway did' I now feel too silly embarrassed to write a blog in these boho trousers. So until I get these off (which may be a long time coming) this is now a photo diary. I give you the last two weeks in pictures. Don't worry, the pants have not been documented. Enjoy.
Floh Markts in Boxhaganer Straße. A find.
Still love modern art jokes.
But still it is very hard to talk about culture when one cannot differentiate between who and what.
Did you know that that guy in the middle of Liars fame is an Australian?
The Döner: Fruend oder Foe? Me feeling the effects of the Wunderlampe kebap at 3am after Liars.
"I decided that I liked the big needle."
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