The stage at Atlantic City is really incredibly dark. The girls dance in almost pitch blackness

November 7, 2016 § Leave a comment

The stage at Atlantic City is really incredibly dark. The girls dance in almost pitch blackness. This too, with the clear, pounding, incessant music, gives it its attraction. My insights all come in strip clubs, and brothels, puffs, tingel-tangels, go go bars, call them what you will. They are where I live. I can be alive nowhere else. Whenever anyone attacks you for your shameful life, you bloom and blossom. The attacks are the vital prerequisite for blooming and blossoming. Our enemies are our greatest friends, they give us the essential rain that fertilises us. I have never been angry at an attacker; I smile and laugh and love them. They do not realise they are my catalysts.

Yet I offer my own bad example. I spent about four hours in Atlantic City on Monday night

November 6, 2016 § Leave a comment

Yet I offer my own bad example. I spent about four hours in Atlantic City on Monday night, and four hours again on Tuesday night, spending a fortune on alcohol both times, and succumbing to a €50 private dance all over & done with in 5 minutes as well. They got a massive amount of money out of me even though it was so completely boring and unfulfilling, because there was nowhere else for me to go that offers anything better, so I stay all night. I do now crave a return to Berlin though. Having said that, Atlantic City has the best collection of girls I have seen in any strip club, beaten only by the Flying Scotsman in days gone by on a very good day—Romanians Amalia and Claudia, one brunette, one blonde, both with nice large bosoms, not huge but nice, are two of the best dancers I have ever seen. Blonde Claudia, in particular, goes into my top three of favourites ever, I think. The splitting image of the blonde girl from Abba, but she shakes her booty in the Brazilian style, and is completely addictive. “Are you sleeping?” the Ukrainian girl next to me said when I was watching her; sleeping, no, I just could not blink, or move or breathe, so fixated was I on the way Claudia shook that incredible booty. Even the skinny Romanians they have there are incredibly cute and pretty. The music is loud, brilliantly clear, pounding and incessant, which makes a great atmosphere, which Sexyland in the next street, Goethestraβe, mysteriously completely fails to match. Why Sexyland is so bad and Atlantic City is so good, when to all intents and purposes they are pretty identical, is another mystery that defies exegesis. I almost look forward to getting back to London. London suddenly doesn’t seem so bad and boring after all.

Going up and down Schillerstraβe & Goethestraβe all the places that I visited back in 2003 & 2004 are all still there

October 28, 2016 § Leave a comment

Going up and down Schillerstraβe & Goethestraβe, all the places that I visited back in 2003 & 2004 are all still there. So how have they survived when the Berlin bars have been decimated, and Stuttgarter Platz almost completely wiped out? It doesn’t make sense. It is counter-intuitive. There is basically no sex in Munich. Private dances cost a prohibitively expensive €50 and come with no extras (compared to the €25 I spent back in 2003 with Patricia, complete with handjob over her beautiful Brazilian breasts). If you want to spend more time with a girl it is €180-200 for a separée, but still she may be naked but you cannot be. So, surely, all the clubs in Munich should have closed down for lack of business shouldn’t they? But they survive, seemingly unchanged since 8 years ago. In Berlin, the clubs in the Stuttgarter Platz hub, Hanky Panky, Stutti Frutti, Chocolat, Starlight, Blue Bananas, Golden Gate and Mon Cheri with its awesome black, dark James Pryde bedrooms and four-poster canopied beds, which may I remind you offered not just drinks with the girls but full sex (in as many positions as you want) for a mere €50-60, are gone. These places should be absolutely packed out and thriving, shouldn’t they? But no, they were always empty even 8 years ago and now are all gone. I have never found where the men go in Berlin—do men in Berlin not like bosoms and buttocks? Yet here in Munich, where there is no sex, not even a cheeky handjob, just ridiculously expensive and boring private dances for €50, the places survive and are always quite busy. I think men in Munich are so frustrated by the lack of sex on offer that they willingly pay for €50 dances and €200 for separées, because they are so desperate for something. You stay all night drinking because there is absolutely nothing else to do. In Berlin, you can come, shoot and leave very quickly. Munich is so boring, yet I spent a fortune in Atlantic City on alcohol, because there was nowhere else to go. In Berlin I might buy one beer, spend €60 on the girl, then be gone. In Munich the men stay all night drinking because there is nothing else to do, so perhaps that’s why the clubs can survive. Despite my logical ideas why Munich survives and Berlin dies, I am still baffled why every club in Berlin is always empty, why I am the only one there every time, and why they therefore die. Keep the men frustrated, don’t give them what they want, and they will stay all night and keep coming back? Give them what they want, they will eat, shoot and leave, and not come back? But where do Berlin men go? Do they not crave naked women the way Munich men do? Are places that offer everything, all the way, always going to be empty because the act is over very quickly? The places that offer almost nothing, keep you frustrated and hanging on all night? It is the cry of my life, where do all the Berlin men go?

Atlantic City, Munich

October 27, 2016 § Leave a comment


Wherever you go in Munich (and this pretty much means Schillerstraβe apart from Sexyland in Goethestraβe) it is pretty much the same

October 27, 2016 § Leave a comment

Wherever you go in Munich (and this pretty much means Schillerstraβe, apart from Sexyland in Goethestraβe), it is pretty much the same. Private dances are €50, they are close and personal but no extras. If you want to go to a separée it will be €180-200. She will get naked but you cannot. You can spend a lot of money going from club to club, finding many buxom beauties, but you won’t even be allowed to get your member out at any time, let alone have it touched! Atlantic City has two great dancers in Romanians Amalia and Claudia, Claudia looking like a voluptuous blonde Agnetha from Abba and she shakes her booty like no one I have ever seen on a stage. It is Brazilian booty shaking; maybe she is Brazilian. The stunning Melani was behind the bar again, quite the most beautiful sexy girl there, a busty blonde Laura Orsolya lookalike. In the old days (2003-4) you could get a private dance for €25 and if lucky get a handjob over the breasts as well, but it seems those days have gone. €50 is too much for a private dance, so usually the girls do not even bother to ask, which gives you a very peaceful undisturbed time. They leave it up to you to catch their eye, a perfect arrangement. If only every club was like this! I did not bother to see the Sexyland dancers; from previous experience they are never as good as Atlantic City. If you want an Esmeralda to go to your hotel, you are looking at around €400! Munich is not the town for Esmeraldas! But I quite like this about it! Atlantic City is my favourite strip club I have ever been to apart from the Scotsman. In Amalia, Claudia and Angel they have three great dancers. All in all though it left me wishing I was back in London! Private dances for £15-£20, they will touch you, Esmeraldas in Soho rooms for £20. I thought about getting the train to Berlin to salve my frustration, but it is an 8-hour journey, so I stay in Rechthaler Hof instead, drinking Spaten beer and reading my newspaper.

There used to be an intellectual foundation to all my journeys

September 22, 2016 § Leave a comment

There used to be an intellectual foundation to all my journeys. I would go to the art museum, and cathedrals, and justice palaces, and bourses, and important places during the day, and the strip clubs was the icing on the cake at night. And if the nighttime places proved tawdry empty experiences, I was left with the enriching memory of the intellectual sustenance I had gained during the day. Now I do nothing but go just to the nighttime places and come away with nothing but the feelings of tawdriness and emptiness. There was no one I wanted in Atlantic City or Sexyland, or either of the other two places I barely set foot in. Well, at least I tried. Going to Atlantic City was a miserable experience and going to Sexyland was a miserable experience—so why on earth do I still keep going? A ridiculous addictive behaviour. “It is eating away at my love, my life and my money. But it is only in these degradations that I find the harmony”. In love I find stress and tension and claustrophobia that makes me silently scream. Wurzburg is the least pretty German town I have seen in all my travels. I have felt totally calm on this trip, not a moment of stress. Though like an actor or sportsman needs to feel a little nervous before the start, otherwise he will not give a good performance, I do not have high experiences either. Just a deadness. “Like a zombie”. Was that Angel comment directed at me? I take myself to these clubs, and make myself stay, even though I am totally not enjoying it.

So my expensive journey back begins, via Frankfurt

September 21, 2016 § Leave a comment

So my expensive journey back begins, via Frankfurt. There were two fantastic dancers at Atlantic City, voluptuous black haired Amelia, and gorgeous crazy black-skinned Angel, but I just felt completely unmoved. How I missed the girls of the ——–, even though I can do nothing with them. And so we leave a grey Munich behind. A gorgeous Wiener Rostbraten in the Rechthaler Hof seeing me on my way. To a two-night residency in Frankfurt I am not looking forward to at all. The girls of the ——– seem so sweet to me, I now think, because there is absolutely no hustle for money, as it is the last place left with no private dances. For someone brought up on Josephine Baker, and Anita Berber and Mata Hari, great sex dancers of the stage, the inception of private dances a few years ago was the death knell to the world of Eros as much as the arrival of the internet. How I yearn for the days when a curtain would open, a girl would dance for two songs, and then the curtain would close again. Those were the glory days. The ——– is the closest place remaining to that innocent concept. But it is this innocence that drives me back to Europe to search for bigger kicks which then do not materialise. I am a George IV, a Henry VIII, a glutton and voluptuary, wasting money I no not have on food, drink and women.


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