If I don't remember much from the first day, don't expect much from me for the second day.
It was Saturday. What can I say...
Let's start with the walk from the House of Cardistry to the Cardistry-Con venue. It was a half-hour walk, at least. You step outside of the hostel and as you walk down the street all you see is the evidence from the chaos that was last night. And not only from our group but it seems like the whole city of Berlin is out of control. The streets are coated with layers of dried piss covered by shards of broken beer bottles. This is a city where people go to lose themselves and live the bohemian life. I'm not too sure how many people make it out.
Every building is covered with graffiti, it's actually fairly nice graffiti for the most part, it's as if they are trying rather than just tagging. The walk took me through a park. Every entrance to the park is swarming with African drug dealers. Literally eight to ten drug dealers per entrance. Most of them are high and can barely stand. They have this seductive calmness about them. Their something very relaxing about watching armed criminals dance to Bob Marley singing 'Don't Worry... About a Thing'. They approach everyone in the open and most people buy drugs. It seems as if most people in Berlin are drug users. Somehow, even with all the graffiti, piss and drugs the city seems very sterile, it must be a German thing. Drug dealers, and strangers from all walks of life really are accustomed to calling me 'Boss'. It's as if they are all secretly in agreement that I'm a Boss. I don't know where they get this idea. I mean, of course I'm a Boss, probably THE BOSS, but how do they know? I just look like a nice boy.
I walk by the the river. It's nice and doesn't smell. As I said, these Germans are on top of it. By the way, it's often said that German engineering is the finest in the world but I was impressed. Actually I would have to say that Germany is a second-world country at best, like all the rest of the European countries. The walk is nice but long. Oh, before I forget I overhear a conversation. It's a man on his bike, he's German but he's yelling in English into his phone. Screaming "What do you mean, my son isn't my son?". I can only surmise that he's angry about unknowingly raising another man's son because his wife is a whore. I understand his anger but he shouldn't be too angry or surprised, what does he expect in today's world? Faithfulness and honor are foreign concepts to almost everyone.
I get there. There were a lot of presentations. The energy in the room is electric. The whole room is watching cardistry videos projected on the big screen. Including these...
I've watched many cardistry videos before but watching them with a whole room that loves cardistry is unbelievable.
The last two videos are the finals for the competition. We vote. Then it's time to drink.
Odd Strandbakken invited us to his burlesque bar, Prinzipal Kreuzberg. He had named a drink after a cardistry move, I think the nimble. I went with Chase Duncan, Caroline Ravn, Geraint Clarke and Lloyd Barnes. I challenged the Brits to a drinking contest. According to Daniel Madison (who they sent a picture of me collapsed, puking on Porsche) I won.
I also convinced Chase Duncan to put a cigarette out on my skin, wherever he wanted and I would feel no pain. He listened and then I put out a cigarette on him. I told him it was an affirmation of the pain that is his life.
They took me home in a cab. I vomited in the back on the floor of the cab, pretending like nothing happened.
The bar was suppose to be a burlesque bar but it was just a girl sitting on a swing hanging from the ceiling smoking a cigarette. I don't remember what I told Caroline as she dropped me off into my room but she told me the next day that no man has ever made her feel more like an object than I have. I wear this as a badge of honor.
I perform wonders without hands and walk the earth without feet.