Letter from Berlin

Some club where I think I was.


Dude–

Berlin sucks. It’s like, first, everybody speaks German. Okay, I GET IT. You’re German. But Jenna said, “You should go to Berlin! The EDM scene is sick and everybody speaks English.” So here I am and FUCK. Even people who speak English have this like evil Nazi accent, which I’m like I don’t believe this shit.

Plus, I’m in this club at this bar, and this guy tells a joke to his friends in German. He sees I don’t get it so he says to me, “Let me see if I can tell it in English. A hamburger and a frankfurter walk into a bar—“

I’m like, “Wait a minute. You mean a hot dog and a hamburger?”

Guy laughs and says, “No, I will explain.”

It turns out there’s a fucking CITY called Hamburg, and people from there are called Hamburgers! And there’s another city called Frankfurt and people from there are fucking called Frankfurters!

I was like, “Where do you have to come from to be a French-fry?”

The guys laughs and says, “I do not know. But there is a city in France called My-awn” (is how he pronounced it), “…and if you’re from there, you’re mayonnaise!”

Fuck this.

Me