invasion of europe

Episode #6

The reason for living.

I love Germans, their facial hair, their kindness, their food. I love their country. I love what they have done with the place.

It saddens me that they are not allowed to know about their history before 1945 and after 1925. None of the people here are allowed to talk about it or someone comes down on them and calls them a Nazi.

In Kaiserslauten, a history professor is Speer's grandson. No one knows that. If they do, they would never say. I am humbled by the power of the losing position.

The final show and the final day of Jeff Justus.

Jeff and I spent the day heading to Hidelberg to see a fucking castle. Any castle. It takes two trains, a bus and one hell of a hike up a hill with a Japanese girl that we have adopted and named Yuki, but we finally see one. Its lovely, glorious, have torn down, but a castle. Jeff and I are equally as impressed.

Sadly, after only 45 minutes of the Griswald nod to the Grand Canyon, Jeff and I are off. We left Yuki and I felt sad about it. I could have easily taken advantage of this poor Japanese girl and I didn't, what has come over me? And what irony to not screw a japanese girl until I get to europe when they are few and far between.

Last show. It's a good one. I open, do my thing and write a new joke on the fly that I love. It has to do with a black woman's voice always being the voice used when you hear the final countdown to the end of the world. For some reason she is rather calm for a black woman that knows that life ends in seven... six... five...

Jeff and I say goodbye in the hallway. He has four hours before his ride picks him up for his flight home and I feel sorry for him because hotels in europe don't have clocks, or front desk staff to give wake up calls, its just you and nature and luck.

I wake up and take a ride across the southern half of Germany to Hahn and get on Ryan air for my second leg of my european invasion. Italy. Pisa. Florence... and gelato.

Pisa, Italy. For all the reasons that I don't like France, I love Italy. The people are less important to the world. Mostly smokers, con artists and accidental sexual side effects in shoes, but good people. The look of Italy is better. There is more trash compared to Germany, but the buildings are all yellow with dark brown doors and windows. Its lovely. AND it looks like the world of Hannibal, so I am very, very turned on. I shall not say a thing about Italian women. I have been looking at them all day and I still don't think they're real. Stunning.

Gelato is the flesh of the gods. Its basically eating cake frosting from the can that is a bit chilled. Its beyond delicious. If there were no women in this country, I would probably spend the next week eating this shit all the time.

The last three things I have to do in Europe... sistine chapel, hitler hotel, get on that fucking plane home.

it turns out that you can stay at hitler's bavarian hideaway. it's been turned into a hotel. I will beg, borrow, steal and where a brown turd shaped patch on my coat to get a night in that hotel.

I hear that the view from the plaza makes you want to invade poland. Their women aren't as hot, but they have great cabbage.