Wetlands by Charlotte Roche
Some people described the book as entertaining and humorous, others as perverse and provocative. I would simply describe it as disgusting. In a way, it’s also entertaining because once you start reading, you don’t want to stop before you have finished it. But I’m sure that this book is responsible for my water bill being so high because ever since I read it, I make sure to wash my hands much more often and my showers are longer to make sure that I’m completely clean. I’m not conservative at all and I usually like reading about masturbation, sex or exchange of body fluids. I can recommend a very exciting erotic novel in German which is called Zuckermond by Astrid Martini. The dialogues are a bit flat, but the sex scenes are amazing! And who reads an erotic novel for the dialogues anyway? But in Wetlands, the protagonist describes how unhygienic she lives her life and that on purpose. She tells us how she wipes the toilet seat with her “pussy” ad how she leaves used tampons all over the hospital to make sure that other people benefit from her bacteria. She goes on describing how she doesn’t wash her vagina for weeks at a time, so that the smell is overpowering which is supposed to attract men. Is that true? If it is, I’ll stop dating at once! Or do guys really like it when girls wipe some wetness of their vagina behind their ear? I also wasn’t so keen on reading about her haemorrhoids surgery and how she deliberately hurt herself with pushing a pedal of a hospital bed up her butt to be able to stay longer in hospital because she fell in love with a male nurse. And for everybody who likes happy endings, I can assure that there is one. I, however, hate happy endings and that’s why I will stick to reading more horror fiction; it doesn’t make me feel so uncomfortable about people around me. I can deal better with murder than with bacteria. I’m not telling you not to read Wetlands. Read it! It’s definitely binding; just make sure you’ve already eaten and preferable already digested your food before reading it because you might loose your appetite.
Dienstag, 18. August 2009
Short Story
The Island
I thought that being an au pair in Finland would be a new and maybe even adventurous experience. But I didn’t know how adventurous!
I’m sitting in a little hut by a lake with no electricity and water in the middle of Finland and having a fire burning by my side. I can see the movement of the water and the wind in the leaves when I look out of the window. Sounds romantic, doesn’t it? But there is a problem; a big problem!
The hut I spend my nights in belongs to the property of my host mom’s mother and it is on an island which can only be reached by boat. The main house is quite small and doesn’t have enough space for all of us. And I was quite glad to have my own place to sleep in because I tend to wake up very easily when I share a room with somebody else. But the hut is about 500 m away from the main house. However, so far, I’ve made my way through the forest every morning to have my morning toilet and breakfast and it seemed good to have some fresh air right after getting up.
But one morning something seemed to be wrong. It was quieter than normal: I couldn’t hear any singing of the birds, the ducklings were gone and even the mosquitoes seemed to have disappeared. However, I still got up and went to the main house, but even that was quiet: No screaming of the two wild boys I take care of, no flickering TV and no Finnish voices. I figured that my host family must have gone to the main land to get some groceries because the boat was gone. So, I had breakfast alone and got dressed. I decided to sit by the lake and read while I was waiting for my host family to come back. But when it was afternoon, I became worried. They still weren’t back and I was seriously becoming to get bored. I tried calling them, but my Finnish phone connection was dead although I always had such a good connection here on the island in the middle of nowhere. And even my German phone didn’t work. It actually scared me a bit because now I couldn’t reach anybody in case something happened. But I thought that something must be wrong with the network. I had a quick lunch/dinner. However, I wasn’t really hungry because I felt quite lonely and I convinced myself that my host family would be back soon with delicious sausages for the bbq. But it became later and later and there was still no sign of them. Although the island isn’t big, there is one more house on it, but it also just serves as a summer cottage. So, I walked along the gravel road to find it and looked inside, but it seemed to be empty as well. I was sure that something must have happened to my host family. Maybe they had a terrible accident or maybe they all drowned. However, I decided to go to bed and hoped that it was all just a bad dream and that I would wake up and everything would be back to normal. The next morning, the birds, mosquitoes or ducklings still hadn’t returned and the main house was just as deserted. Since I was feeling like I was stuck in one of those horror movies I like to watch, I decided to try out the kajak to get to the main land. I had never used it before, but it wasn’t so hard. You just had to be careful to not turn it over when you got in. When I got to the main land, the car of my host family was gone. I walked along the street to the next few houses and all of them were empty. I didn’t see one cat or hear a dog barking. I didn’t know what else to do and went back to the island. Back there I realized that the electricity in the main house wasn’t working: the fridge wasn’t cold and none of the lights were working. I hadn’t realized it before because here in Finland it is so bright at night that you don’t need any artificial light. I have now been alone on the island for 4 days. I barely have any food left. I did a few more trips to the main land and walked along the street to knock on the doors of other houses, but all of them are empty and everything around me seems to be dead. I have the feeling that even the trees are dying. I have no idea what happened. Was there some kind of attack? But of what? Poison? An atomic bomb? And why did my host parents leave me alone? Did they have to flee so fast that there was no time to inform me? I don’t know what to do except to stay here and wait for somebody to turn up to rescue me. Where else should I go? My laptop battery is nearly empty and since the electricity isn’t working, I can’t charge it. So, I need to go. Bye!
I thought that being an au pair in Finland would be a new and maybe even adventurous experience. But I didn’t know how adventurous!
I’m sitting in a little hut by a lake with no electricity and water in the middle of Finland and having a fire burning by my side. I can see the movement of the water and the wind in the leaves when I look out of the window. Sounds romantic, doesn’t it? But there is a problem; a big problem!
The hut I spend my nights in belongs to the property of my host mom’s mother and it is on an island which can only be reached by boat. The main house is quite small and doesn’t have enough space for all of us. And I was quite glad to have my own place to sleep in because I tend to wake up very easily when I share a room with somebody else. But the hut is about 500 m away from the main house. However, so far, I’ve made my way through the forest every morning to have my morning toilet and breakfast and it seemed good to have some fresh air right after getting up.
But one morning something seemed to be wrong. It was quieter than normal: I couldn’t hear any singing of the birds, the ducklings were gone and even the mosquitoes seemed to have disappeared. However, I still got up and went to the main house, but even that was quiet: No screaming of the two wild boys I take care of, no flickering TV and no Finnish voices. I figured that my host family must have gone to the main land to get some groceries because the boat was gone. So, I had breakfast alone and got dressed. I decided to sit by the lake and read while I was waiting for my host family to come back. But when it was afternoon, I became worried. They still weren’t back and I was seriously becoming to get bored. I tried calling them, but my Finnish phone connection was dead although I always had such a good connection here on the island in the middle of nowhere. And even my German phone didn’t work. It actually scared me a bit because now I couldn’t reach anybody in case something happened. But I thought that something must be wrong with the network. I had a quick lunch/dinner. However, I wasn’t really hungry because I felt quite lonely and I convinced myself that my host family would be back soon with delicious sausages for the bbq. But it became later and later and there was still no sign of them. Although the island isn’t big, there is one more house on it, but it also just serves as a summer cottage. So, I walked along the gravel road to find it and looked inside, but it seemed to be empty as well. I was sure that something must have happened to my host family. Maybe they had a terrible accident or maybe they all drowned. However, I decided to go to bed and hoped that it was all just a bad dream and that I would wake up and everything would be back to normal. The next morning, the birds, mosquitoes or ducklings still hadn’t returned and the main house was just as deserted. Since I was feeling like I was stuck in one of those horror movies I like to watch, I decided to try out the kajak to get to the main land. I had never used it before, but it wasn’t so hard. You just had to be careful to not turn it over when you got in. When I got to the main land, the car of my host family was gone. I walked along the street to the next few houses and all of them were empty. I didn’t see one cat or hear a dog barking. I didn’t know what else to do and went back to the island. Back there I realized that the electricity in the main house wasn’t working: the fridge wasn’t cold and none of the lights were working. I hadn’t realized it before because here in Finland it is so bright at night that you don’t need any artificial light. I have now been alone on the island for 4 days. I barely have any food left. I did a few more trips to the main land and walked along the street to knock on the doors of other houses, but all of them are empty and everything around me seems to be dead. I have the feeling that even the trees are dying. I have no idea what happened. Was there some kind of attack? But of what? Poison? An atomic bomb? And why did my host parents leave me alone? Did they have to flee so fast that there was no time to inform me? I don’t know what to do except to stay here and wait for somebody to turn up to rescue me. Where else should I go? My laptop battery is nearly empty and since the electricity isn’t working, I can’t charge it. So, I need to go. Bye!
Donnerstag, 9. April 2009
Poem
When it’s Dark
I drink blood and kill,
I live in a castle on a hill.
I haunt humans on the streets
and they taste like sweets.
My next victim might be you
and you won’t make it through.
But don’t be aghast,
I’ll slay you fast.
I am strong and immortal,
and will succeed because I’m brutal.
Next century I will rule an empire,
as a creature of the night, a vampire.
I drink blood and kill,
I live in a castle on a hill.
I haunt humans on the streets
and they taste like sweets.
My next victim might be you
and you won’t make it through.
But don’t be aghast,
I’ll slay you fast.
I am strong and immortal,
and will succeed because I’m brutal.
Next century I will rule an empire,
as a creature of the night, a vampire.
Short Story
The World after the 1st of March
When I was younger I always wanted to be able to look into the future. I would have liked to have a time machine to see what’s going to come and how the world is going to change. But back then in 2009, I would never have been able to imagine that the world would be doomed ten years later; doomed because of World War III.
I guess it all started with the election of a young, charismatic president in the US. In his presidential campaign he had promised to finally bring the war in Iraq to an end. However, he was assassinated soon after his inauguration and his vice-president, a 70-year old war-veteran called Adrian Shotler probably wanted to continue playing war and instead of pulling the troops out of Iraq, he sent even more. Of course, the Iraqis weren’t happy about that. I remember that the war in Iraq had started because the Americans assumed that the Iraqis were building atomic bombs. However, the American troops never found any. And since the Americans didn’t come to the bombs, the bombs came to America. How the Iraqis were able to smuggle bombs of the size of a car to the States, nobody knows. But on 1 March, 2018, three atomic devices exploded in the USA destroying NYC, Washington DC, and Chicago and killing 3 million people. It is impossible to describe the chaos and mayhem which suddenly arose throughout the world. Lots of other nations acted rashly, especially the European Union which immediately agreed to also send troops to Iraq to destroy this country and its weapons. It soon developed into a war of religions: the Muslim-based countries against the Christian-based countries. And bombs started falling in Great Britain and all over Europe, too. Nobody in Britain was safe anymore and the few hundred thousand survivors were evacuated and brought to an uninhabited island which is now called New London. But our colony doesn’t have anything to do with London. It only consists of barracks where we sleep on straw and other barracks where we eat our apportioned food. It’s always cold and windy here because the island is located in the middle of the ocean. We don’t have telephones, computers, or TVs here; things I took for granted only a year ago. We don’t even have anything to do: there’s no work because we don’t have any tools or materials to build anything with. Once a week, a ship comes over here to bring some food, letters, and more refugees. Most of these refugees are even sicker than us and except for a few doctors, who have no tools except their own hands, there is no medical treatment here. I have been exposed to an atomic explosion myself and I can feel how my hair is falling out already. Our colony mostly consists of women because nearly all the men have been drafted to fight in the war. My boyfriend Michael died 2 months ago. I still can’t imagine that I’ll never see his smile again. For me all that is like a bad dream from which I’ll awake soon. There is nowhere for us to go: nearly all the countries in Europe have been destroyed and those which are not will not take any more refugees. I am not so sure what we are doing here. Are we waiting for the end of the war? Or the end of the world? And even if the war does stop, what will we do? Will we rebuild all of Europe? Will there be anything left to rebuild? And will there be enough healthy people to produce non-retarded children?
Einstein once said: “I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.” I now, unfortunately, know the answer to the first part of his saying and I am sure that Einstein is right about the second part as well.
When I was younger I always wanted to be able to look into the future. I would have liked to have a time machine to see what’s going to come and how the world is going to change. But back then in 2009, I would never have been able to imagine that the world would be doomed ten years later; doomed because of World War III.
I guess it all started with the election of a young, charismatic president in the US. In his presidential campaign he had promised to finally bring the war in Iraq to an end. However, he was assassinated soon after his inauguration and his vice-president, a 70-year old war-veteran called Adrian Shotler probably wanted to continue playing war and instead of pulling the troops out of Iraq, he sent even more. Of course, the Iraqis weren’t happy about that. I remember that the war in Iraq had started because the Americans assumed that the Iraqis were building atomic bombs. However, the American troops never found any. And since the Americans didn’t come to the bombs, the bombs came to America. How the Iraqis were able to smuggle bombs of the size of a car to the States, nobody knows. But on 1 March, 2018, three atomic devices exploded in the USA destroying NYC, Washington DC, and Chicago and killing 3 million people. It is impossible to describe the chaos and mayhem which suddenly arose throughout the world. Lots of other nations acted rashly, especially the European Union which immediately agreed to also send troops to Iraq to destroy this country and its weapons. It soon developed into a war of religions: the Muslim-based countries against the Christian-based countries. And bombs started falling in Great Britain and all over Europe, too. Nobody in Britain was safe anymore and the few hundred thousand survivors were evacuated and brought to an uninhabited island which is now called New London. But our colony doesn’t have anything to do with London. It only consists of barracks where we sleep on straw and other barracks where we eat our apportioned food. It’s always cold and windy here because the island is located in the middle of the ocean. We don’t have telephones, computers, or TVs here; things I took for granted only a year ago. We don’t even have anything to do: there’s no work because we don’t have any tools or materials to build anything with. Once a week, a ship comes over here to bring some food, letters, and more refugees. Most of these refugees are even sicker than us and except for a few doctors, who have no tools except their own hands, there is no medical treatment here. I have been exposed to an atomic explosion myself and I can feel how my hair is falling out already. Our colony mostly consists of women because nearly all the men have been drafted to fight in the war. My boyfriend Michael died 2 months ago. I still can’t imagine that I’ll never see his smile again. For me all that is like a bad dream from which I’ll awake soon. There is nowhere for us to go: nearly all the countries in Europe have been destroyed and those which are not will not take any more refugees. I am not so sure what we are doing here. Are we waiting for the end of the war? Or the end of the world? And even if the war does stop, what will we do? Will we rebuild all of Europe? Will there be anything left to rebuild? And will there be enough healthy people to produce non-retarded children?
Einstein once said: “I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.” I now, unfortunately, know the answer to the first part of his saying and I am sure that Einstein is right about the second part as well.
Poem
Calvin
In August a jester comes to town,
his clothes are green and yellow,
he makes me laugh when I am down,
he is a funny fellow.
Like a dragon he breaths fire,
known for juggling and for dancin’,
for entertaining the whole empire,
he’s known by the name of Calvin.
In August a jester comes to town,
his clothes are green and yellow,
he makes me laugh when I am down,
he is a funny fellow.
Like a dragon he breaths fire,
known for juggling and for dancin’,
for entertaining the whole empire,
he’s known by the name of Calvin.
Poem
What she Wants
People say what matters not is the size,
and maybe this saying is also very wise.
Really important is the technique,
that’s what one should seek.
But she wants someone who is perfect in technique and size
because then she is rewarded the best prize.
It has to be stimulating and rhythmic,
only that really makes it click.
He should know how to use his tongue great
because she’ll do the same for his little mate.
She likes to experiment with position,
she only follows her intuition.
She likes it scratchy, bity, and hot
because vanilla she is not.
A big plus would be a piercing,
it sure makes it all the more enticing.
What she wants is a perfect orgasm at the end,
that’s what she’ll expect from her boyfriend.
Therefore she wants the perfect mix,
because that makes the greatest sex.
People say what matters not is the size,
and maybe this saying is also very wise.
Really important is the technique,
that’s what one should seek.
But she wants someone who is perfect in technique and size
because then she is rewarded the best prize.
It has to be stimulating and rhythmic,
only that really makes it click.
He should know how to use his tongue great
because she’ll do the same for his little mate.
She likes to experiment with position,
she only follows her intuition.
She likes it scratchy, bity, and hot
because vanilla she is not.
A big plus would be a piercing,
it sure makes it all the more enticing.
What she wants is a perfect orgasm at the end,
that’s what she’ll expect from her boyfriend.
Therefore she wants the perfect mix,
because that makes the greatest sex.
Opinion Piece
Drugs!?
Seamus is an Irish lad from Galway (the party capital of Ireland). He’s probably the craziest guy I’ve been with and also the one that was most involved into drugs.
Ok, let’s be honest: In Ireland it’s totally normal to be smoking pot if you are in your 20’s or a bit younger and if you like socializing. Here’s a conversation between an Irish guy from Dublin and a girl:
GIRL: Do you smoke?
GUY: No, do you?
GIRL: Depends on what!
GUY: Oh, I smoke that, of course!
Seamus was just like that. He would never smoke a cigarette. He never had the urge for tobacco. But he loved his joints and bongs. He had also tried nearly every other kind of drug. And of course, he drank like an Irish. When I once asked him if there is any drug he hasn’t tried yet, he replied without even having to think about it: “Heroin! I would never to that. But everything else I’ve done!” He started smoking marihuana at the age of 16, but he didn’t on a regular basis before the age of 20. He used to take crack and ecstasy, but stopped because crack in particular can make a person very aggressive and he is too much of a laid-back guy to get into fights. He spends most of his evenings smoking 2-3 joints of marihuana or cannabis. And as everybody can assume, his best vacations he spent in the Netherlands! He sometimes also bragged about taking acid after having had 2 joints – a combination which never made sense to me- but that would not happen more often than once a month.
For most of you Seamus now probably sounds like a dumb, scruffy, anti-social, and unemployed drug-addict who doesn’t have a future because he only lives for his drugs. But that’s not true at all. Seamus was extremely intelligent and very interested in history. He had a well-paying job in a big company, but hoped that one day he’d be able to make a living as a musician. He was a fabulous drummer and singer. I’ve never met a guy who would spend more time in the bathroom before going out on Friday night. So, why did so many of my friends shook their head and had a disapproving look into their faces when I told them about Seamus and his little experiments with drugs?
I think, for most Germans, even for people my generation, smoking pot is a big taboo. Lot’s of them think that smoking grass is the entrance into a life of heroin-addiction and prostitution. On TV we can often see German teenagers who are from the worst parts of Berlin or Cologne who only have one goal: to acquire money to buy more pot. Those teenagers usually haven’t finished school, don’t have a job, and don’t have any interests apart from drugs. But not all joint-smokers are like that!
At the moment Seamus is working and travelling in New Zealand (where the pot is supposed to be of a very good quality, he told me) and he has met lots of other travelers from very different countries and he told me that of all the different nations he met, it was always the Germans who said that they don’t smoke grass. I also don’t personally know any Germans who smoke pot. Or do they just not talk about it? Quite a few American or a Kiwi college students would have problems to name one of their friends who NEVER smoked joints or bongs. And when Seamus was looking for a place to live in New Zealand, he looked at a room in a house of three guys and the first question they asked him was: “Do you smoke pot?” Of course, he immediately got the room! So, in lots of countries the people speak openly about marihuana consumption, but in Germany it’s not possible. I guess that is because in Germany pot is considered a strong drug and taking drugs is something that usually only happens in the lower class and being part of the lower class normally means being uneducated, scruffy, and unemployed. And who would want that? But that is a phenomenon that seems to exist only in Germany, because in the USA, Ireland, New Zealand, Australia … people of all classes tend to enjoy their pot!
I’m not saying that smoking marihuana is a good thing because it does kill loads of brain cells, more than alcohol does. But I know a few American straight A college students who do smoke a bong once in a while, so it can’t kill that fast. Pot is not a good thing, but it’s also not as bad as Germans of the middle classes and my mom say it is. And I want to end with something Seamus always used to say: “But it’s just a plant!”
Seamus is an Irish lad from Galway (the party capital of Ireland). He’s probably the craziest guy I’ve been with and also the one that was most involved into drugs.
Ok, let’s be honest: In Ireland it’s totally normal to be smoking pot if you are in your 20’s or a bit younger and if you like socializing. Here’s a conversation between an Irish guy from Dublin and a girl:
GIRL: Do you smoke?
GUY: No, do you?
GIRL: Depends on what!
GUY: Oh, I smoke that, of course!
Seamus was just like that. He would never smoke a cigarette. He never had the urge for tobacco. But he loved his joints and bongs. He had also tried nearly every other kind of drug. And of course, he drank like an Irish. When I once asked him if there is any drug he hasn’t tried yet, he replied without even having to think about it: “Heroin! I would never to that. But everything else I’ve done!” He started smoking marihuana at the age of 16, but he didn’t on a regular basis before the age of 20. He used to take crack and ecstasy, but stopped because crack in particular can make a person very aggressive and he is too much of a laid-back guy to get into fights. He spends most of his evenings smoking 2-3 joints of marihuana or cannabis. And as everybody can assume, his best vacations he spent in the Netherlands! He sometimes also bragged about taking acid after having had 2 joints – a combination which never made sense to me- but that would not happen more often than once a month.
For most of you Seamus now probably sounds like a dumb, scruffy, anti-social, and unemployed drug-addict who doesn’t have a future because he only lives for his drugs. But that’s not true at all. Seamus was extremely intelligent and very interested in history. He had a well-paying job in a big company, but hoped that one day he’d be able to make a living as a musician. He was a fabulous drummer and singer. I’ve never met a guy who would spend more time in the bathroom before going out on Friday night. So, why did so many of my friends shook their head and had a disapproving look into their faces when I told them about Seamus and his little experiments with drugs?
I think, for most Germans, even for people my generation, smoking pot is a big taboo. Lot’s of them think that smoking grass is the entrance into a life of heroin-addiction and prostitution. On TV we can often see German teenagers who are from the worst parts of Berlin or Cologne who only have one goal: to acquire money to buy more pot. Those teenagers usually haven’t finished school, don’t have a job, and don’t have any interests apart from drugs. But not all joint-smokers are like that!
At the moment Seamus is working and travelling in New Zealand (where the pot is supposed to be of a very good quality, he told me) and he has met lots of other travelers from very different countries and he told me that of all the different nations he met, it was always the Germans who said that they don’t smoke grass. I also don’t personally know any Germans who smoke pot. Or do they just not talk about it? Quite a few American or a Kiwi college students would have problems to name one of their friends who NEVER smoked joints or bongs. And when Seamus was looking for a place to live in New Zealand, he looked at a room in a house of three guys and the first question they asked him was: “Do you smoke pot?” Of course, he immediately got the room! So, in lots of countries the people speak openly about marihuana consumption, but in Germany it’s not possible. I guess that is because in Germany pot is considered a strong drug and taking drugs is something that usually only happens in the lower class and being part of the lower class normally means being uneducated, scruffy, and unemployed. And who would want that? But that is a phenomenon that seems to exist only in Germany, because in the USA, Ireland, New Zealand, Australia … people of all classes tend to enjoy their pot!
I’m not saying that smoking marihuana is a good thing because it does kill loads of brain cells, more than alcohol does. But I know a few American straight A college students who do smoke a bong once in a while, so it can’t kill that fast. Pot is not a good thing, but it’s also not as bad as Germans of the middle classes and my mom say it is. And I want to end with something Seamus always used to say: “But it’s just a plant!”
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