9 05 2008

I mentioned in an earlier post how I was tempted by the novelty of getting my hair cut in Berlin at 10pm; I didn’t because I wanted to go back to my hairdresser here and her tales of her glass-eating Staffy. I went this morning and although I didn’t get any Staffy gossip she did have some quite incredulous tales of her wedding politics. There is also a wedding going on in her road at the same time as hers, so I suspect it will be garters at dawn and a troop of drooling Staffies guarding the rings. 


I don’t really like having my hair cut because no one seems to understand that I need copious amounts of mousse/serum/gunk put on at the end to stop the huge frizz descending. I guess big hair was in during the 80s and still is in some parts of Austria, where I was once given  ein kur by an over-enthusiastic English ex-pat hairdresser and made to sit under a bright red lamp for almost an hour.

“Just a little longer, dear, just a liiiiiitle longer”

I came out of there, ran round the corner and promptly hid my Blossom-circa-1990s hair under a large hat.

Still, I’ve gotta love my ‘fro of sorts. I was driving last week and I heard a very strange insult being barked between cars. I don’t think it was at me, because a) I wasn’t really near the driver spewing out the insult and b) I was driving perfectly – still, it doesn’t really stop them articulating whatever they wish round here. The Wildean wit is distinctly lacking in these parts. Anyway, I was trying to work out what they were actually shouting and all I could make of it was ‘STUPID ‘FRO’. Now I hope that was aimed at me because I have never had a STUPID ‘FRO insult slung my way; many others but not that. I sometimes wish I had a proper afro but my celtic locks will have to do, I shall name it ‘Celfro’ for originality. It’s almost rabid – unruly, untamed and scared of water. 


I realise I haven’t explained why this blog is named Torschlusspanik; I’ll do that soon but relating it to ‘wanting to get out before it’s too late’ I’ll give the examples of: persistent bad drivers on the roads (see above) leading to arschlochpanik, 10p tax rate being abolished and thereby not encouraging anyone to want to work, political parties not knowing their arse from the elbow and being as far removed from real life as we are from the sun, quality of life dimishing rapidly, rising road tax for roads full of tyre puncturing potholes, traffic jams and the ASBO culture which is unique to England alone. You know the rest. 




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