Those Old Black And White Movies Were True

Berlin was home to the popping of my photobooth cherry. If I didn't know better, I'd be willing to bet my cottage cheese bottom that those strange techno-sound-tracked nights were years ago. In fact, a mere few days have passed. This 'Oh that? That was so fucking long ago now' attitude might very well be simply due to the desaturated images sitting in front of me; black and white media often has that effect on me (yes, I'm really that gullible/stupid.) Or it could just be my bad memory. I do know that it certianly isn't because a world of things have happened since Berlin; in the past two days, I have left the house once, to watch my friend Gary Page play a gig. I drank two pints of Diet Coke. I had to pee in the night. I think I may have gone in a shoe as Bobby woke up to me walking suspiciously around the other end of the room. Who knows? Like I said, my memory's bad.

So, our first attempt at photoboothing was less than perfect (who knew the darn old thing starts flashing away the moment you put the coin in?) Bit of a disaster really. We ran out of money and so had to go back the next day. All the same, it was gritty and a wholesome yesteryear funtage (like montage but not). Yep, it was pretty much the best bit of the entire month/holiday/my life. Also, I'm pretty sure for at least three seconds there I was Layla from Buffalo 66. Just spanning time.