...brought on by a bout of annoyance at my recent spate of failures trying to pick up the tail-end of all the yummy empty embassies left derelict by the German capital's move to Berlin in the early 2000s.
This one's already been done pretty well by a German photographer, but I got bored and itchy, kind of like when you join the navy and end up in some dodgy fly blown third world shithole without a prophilactic, and several weeks later, what do you know....except there were no wrinkled whores involved, only some nosy neighbors in a quiet, leafy suburb full of villas.
I'm not even going to be subtle about this one. It's documented, it's in the news, the state it belonged to has pretty much ceased to exist, and the locals are indubitably getting stroppy about the constant decay in property values brought on by a bunch of scruffy morons toting camera gear around the neighborhood.
But hot-diggity damn, no graffiti and boatloads of toys.
So please, take a number, the visa office is down the hall, an official will be with you shortly as soon as the consular section finishes its daily lawn bowling tournament.
Still no kosmograd, dammit. But as an added bonus, as a reward for being such a good boy and not lifting any of the oh-so-tempting goodies, I borrowed a stack of 10+-year-old negatives I found lying in the cellar under a pile of moldy blankets, took them home, and lovingly scanned them in.
Turns out that we have a pretty voyeuristic opportunity to look into the daily lives of a bunch of embassy employees and their families, probably around the 1970s or 1980s judging by the haircuts.
I anyone wants, I will figure out how to upload these, it's pretty cool.
This one's already been done pretty well by a German photographer, but I got bored and itchy, kind of like when you join the navy and end up in some dodgy fly blown third world shithole without a prophilactic, and several weeks later, what do you know....except there were no wrinkled whores involved, only some nosy neighbors in a quiet, leafy suburb full of villas.
I'm not even going to be subtle about this one. It's documented, it's in the news, the state it belonged to has pretty much ceased to exist, and the locals are indubitably getting stroppy about the constant decay in property values brought on by a bunch of scruffy morons toting camera gear around the neighborhood.
But hot-diggity damn, no graffiti and boatloads of toys.
So please, take a number, the visa office is down the hall, an official will be with you shortly as soon as the consular section finishes its daily lawn bowling tournament.
Still no kosmograd, dammit. But as an added bonus, as a reward for being such a good boy and not lifting any of the oh-so-tempting goodies, I borrowed a stack of 10+-year-old negatives I found lying in the cellar under a pile of moldy blankets, took them home, and lovingly scanned them in.
Turns out that we have a pretty voyeuristic opportunity to look into the daily lives of a bunch of embassy employees and their families, probably around the 1970s or 1980s judging by the haircuts.
I anyone wants, I will figure out how to upload these, it's pretty cool.
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