I want to confess that for some time, I've gotten much better grades at college and I owe it to the liberalness of my neighbor. It began when I moved to Hamburg to go to college. Before that I lived in a rural area, and I quickly made up for it. My first two semesters were a catastrophe because I went drinking a lot and made a lot of new friends. One afternoon I looked out the window in storeroom and saw how my neighbor walked around her apartment topless. Her apartment is across from mine and is half a story lower than mine. You can only really see her out of this one window. No clue if she's aware of that. She must be in her mid-thirties so her body is rather average.
I think if she worked at it a little, she could look really good. I watched her for the next couple of days. She comes home around noon and then walks around half naked. Never completely naked though, especially the last few days when it wasn't so warm. She doesn't seem to have a boyfriend so she hardly ever gets a visit and her life is pure routine. She always sits on the sofa at the same time and watches TV series, and somehow it makes me sad. When it gets dark, she puts down the blinds, and then I stop studying. Since a year ago, my desk has been located in the small storage room and I have top grades in college. My biggest fear is that she will get curtains or something. I think I'll put a bouquet on her doorstep when I'm done with college.
My grandma has Alzheimer's, and whenever I come home from work, I get sentenced to keeping her occupied. My mother has to get everything ready for dinner and doesn't have the time. Basically, I don't really have a problem with it, most of the time it's actually entertaining. But one thing I do hate: the photo book. I've had to look at it with her so often that some of the pages have begun to fall out. The problem is that my grandma no longer sees well and she also doesn't remember many of the relatives. When she realizes that she can't remember someone, she often gets sad. Just so she doesn't get into a funk, I always say, "Yes, that's it exactly," whatever name she says, and instantly then it's this cousin or that son. And on the next one, maybe it's someone completely different, however she identifies him. When she can't come up with anything for someone, I always say simply: "That was already pasted in there, when we bought the album. It's an advertising model." She still recalls that when you buy picture frames, they always come with happy people's pictures in them.
The time has come to unload something unbelievably embarrassing. I'm in the music business and have my own little sound studio at home where I record bands from time to time. Last year, I had an all-girl, alternative rock band in. The lead singer is genuinely good-looking: nineteen years old at the time, perfect legs and hips, juicy butt, delicious little breasts, an absolute feast for the eyes. Understandably, I start hitting on her. At some point, she accepted my offer to go out for dinner. So I take her to a nice place. After our opulent meal, I don't feel so good, but don't let on. Naturally, she comes up to my place for "a coffee". Luckily, I had pulled out the satin bed sheets and laboriously made the bed again with them. We never get to the coffee, we start making out as soon as we shut the door behind us. I'm still a little bit nauseous, but it's manageable and no reason to "blow retreat". Anyway, we're both naked and start to make love. Great stuff, though she might have shaved her bikini zone a little better, but then she has other qualities. Finally, she turns over because she wants it doggy-style; in the moment when she offers me her pretty behind, I get a nose full of really disgusting fecal odor. I heave, but keep it under control, at least until I see that there, stuck on her backdoor among the hairs, are fartleberries from her last toilet run. Oh yeah, that is where I lost it. I throw up all over her back and my freshly-made bed. What went down after that you can imagine. The very next day the band changed studios. I shouldn't have told my best friend this little anecdote, because he's such a gossip, but unfortunately I did. In the meantime, it has spread through the music scene all over town. This incredibly stupid joke is making the rounds that my recordings are enough to make you vomit. But since my studio since then has become busier than ever, I've had the last laugh.