old hamburg

It's not just the food that's revolting.

(long story)

Back in my college days, I lived on campus and ate the 20-meals-a-week meal plan at the cafeteria. It was… terrible. Seriously. I know people complain about their college cafeteria all the time, but they still gain their “freshman 15”. I lost mine. The food was disgusting. Sunday spaghetti was made from tomato sauce and Saturday’s cheap hamburgers. One week they didn’t bother ripping up the hamburgers: watery, sauce-tinted, overcooked noodles garnished with dry, leathery, two-day-old hamburger patties. It was still better than the other options. At first, they had a “make your own pizza” line, but removed it because everyone was using it, and “bread isn’t cheap.” I remember seeing a real salad in their “healthy eats” line and getting excited, because it’s hard to screw up salads, only to realize that it was literally floating in oil. The salad on the actual salad bar was not an option; it was changed out every morning, whether it needed it or not. Oh, sorry, I meant the ice in the salad bar. Not the salad, no. A student wrote his initials in the tuna and it remained for a solid week. Sometimes the salad would grow its own salad.

They had a big board set up for student complaints, and they would write responses back. Oddly enough, the board rarely had bad things to say; the manager, may he be haunted by a thousand bedbugs, confessed that he didn’t have time to answer every complaint, but he did read every one, and took the complaints into consideration. And, as far as we could tell, threw away all the ones he didn’t like.

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Their train arrived in Hamburg at 6am and they moved into the Schloss Hotel in Tremsbuttel, 30 miles away from Hamburg and the fans. They slept until 1.30pm then made a balcony appearance for the several hundred fans gathered outside.

John visited Astrid Kirchherr, who gave him several letters written by Stuart Sutcliffe. […]

The Beatles played two sets at Ernst Merck Halle with the usual press conference in between. During one of the shows, John remarked to the crowd: “Don’t listen to our music. We’re terrible these days.”

Afterwards John and Paul went for a walk around the Reeperbahn after midnight, revisiting their old haunts.
—  Entry for 26 June 1966 // The Beatles Diary Volume 1: The Beatles Years // Barry Miles
When The Beatles arrived at the Indra they were completely broke. Rosa, the cleaning lady, gave them a few marks so they could go across the street to Harold’s cafe for a meal of potato fritters, cornflakes and chicken soup. Rosa washed their shirts and socks, gave them chocolate bars and, for a time, Paul lived in her small bungalow down on the docks.
Rosa: “I remember when young Paul used to practise guitar on the roof of my little place. We used to get crowds of burly old Hamburg dockers hanging around, just listening. They shouted out things in German, but Paul didn’t understand them. It’s odd. They were a very hard audience who didn’t really know what Paul was playing, but somehow they took to him.”
—  The Beatles Diary Volume 1: The Beatles Years, Barry Miles

To Cynthia, April 1962

Dear Cyn,

I love love love you and I’m missing you like mad.Where are you my little

I wonder why all the newspapers wrote about Stu – especially the People – and how the hell did they find out, who could have told them, as I wrote that I suddenly remembered there’s a fellow at the ‘Jacaranda’ who’s a freelance journalist. Could have been him because Allan Williams has been helping Mrs Sutcliffe or something. I haven’t seen Astrid since the day we arrived. I’ve thought of going to see her but I would be so awkward – and probably the others would come as well and it would be even worse. I won’t write any more about it ’cause it’s not much fun. I love you – I don’t like the idea of Dot moving in permanently with you ’cause we could never be alone really – I mean when I come home – can’t she have the other room or find another flat – imagine having her there all the time when we were in bed – and imagine Paul coming all the time – and especially when I wasn’t there. I’d hate the idea. I love you Cyn.

The club is massive and we only play 3hrs one night and 4 the next – and we play an hour – then an hour break so it doesn’t seem long at all really.The boss of this place is a good skin – we’re off tomorrow ’cause it’s Good Friday and they can’t have music so the boss – (Manfred) is taking us and the other group out for the day in his car and all the rest of them like Horst are coming, so it will be a big mob in our 5 cars.We’re going somewhere healthy like the Ost Sea (Stuart again).

God, I’m knackered it’s 6 o’clock in the morning and I want you. (I’ve just found out that there’s no post tomorrow so I will pack in good night. I love you, boo! hoo! I hate this place).

That was Thursday night now its Sunday afternoon. I’ve just wakened up and there’s no post today or tomorrow (Easter Monday, I think) anyway happy Easter Cyn. I love you.We went out, but all we did was eat and eat and eat (Good Friday) it was all free so it was okay.We drove somewhere about 80 miles away and ate.

My voice has been gone since I got here (it was gone before I came if I remember rightly). I can’t seem to find it – ah well! I love you Cyn Powell and I wish I was on the way to your flat with the Sunday papers and choccies and a throbber! OhYes! I forgot to tell you I’ve got a GEAR suede overcoat with a belt so I’ll look just like you now! Paul’s leaping about on my head (he’s in a bunk on top of me and he’s snoring!) I can hardly get in a position to write it’s so cramped below stairs, captain. Shurrup McCartney! Grunt grunt.

I can’t wait to see your new room it will be great seeing it for the first time and having chips and all and a ciggie (don’t let me come home to
a regular smoker please Miss Powell). Hmm I can just see YOU and Dot puffing away. I suppose that’s the least of my worries. I love you, Cyn, I miss miss miss you miss powell – I keep remembering all the parts of Hamburg that we went to together. In fact I can’t get away from you – especially on the way, and inside the Seaman’s Mission boo! hoo! I love love love you. x

Did I tell you that we have a good bathroom with a shower, did I? Did I tell you? Well, I’ve had ONE whole shower, aren’t I a clean little raker? Hee! Hee! I love you. I haven’t written to Mimi yet but I know how to send her money so it gets there in 2hrs. xxx

I can’t think what to write now so I will pack in and write some tomorrow seeing as how like I can’t POST IT anyway so good afternoon Cyn, I love you.Yum yum.Will you send me the words to ‘A SHOT OF RHYTHM AND BLUES’ please? There’s not many.

It’s Monday night and we finished playing about ¾ hours ago (its 2 o’clock). I’m dead beat my sweet, so I hope you won’t mind if I finish now and have lovely sleep (without you but it’ll still be lovely – don’t be hurt – but I’m so, so tired). I love you Cyn – I hope you realize why this letter took so long lovey but there has been no post Fri, Sat, Sun, Mon – and this one will go by the early morning Tuesday post ’cause I will nip downstairs and post it any minute (handy isn’t it?) I love you, I love you please wait for me and don’t be sad and work hard and be a clever little Cyn Powell. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, write soon ooh it’s a naughty old Hamburg we’re living in!!

 All my Love for Ever and ever From



PS They’re leather PANTIES not pants (just in case y’know!)

I love you Goodnight 

sympauny  asked:

20 in the I know you have many more fics to write prompts... about the contract... seriously love it!

It was a fairly often occurrence that one of the boys would do something stupid. Be it the time Tim ate a two week old McDonald’s hamburger for a dollar, the time Dick got stuck in the chimney, that one time Jason locked himself in a closet, or when Damian ripped his pants on a fence as he was running away from one of his brothers. But this was a whole new level of stupidity. It just so happened that the four of them had been assigned to a mission involving a magic cult and some weird happenings at a local city. They had split into groups, Dick with Damian and Jason with Tim, and when they were able to meet back up after disbanding the cult and getting them locked safely away, when Dick and Damian noticed that Tim was supporting Jason, an arm under Jason’s, practically dragging him along. “Is he okay?” Dick ran over, quickly checking to see if Jason was badly injured “Um… well, about that. He may have signed a contract type thing with a cult member to get them to stop practicing demonic summoning and whatnot…” Dick and Damian just looked at Jason, who, though unconscious, looked pretty much the same “So, what happened to him?” Damian looked Jason over to see if there were any visible effects “I’m not really sure. I think we’re just going to wait and see.” 

Jason finally woke up the next day but he seemed a bit… odd, not at all like his usual self. “Hey gents,it’s really nice to see you on this fine day” Jason greeted his brothers with a wide smile, causing all of them to recoil away from him “What the actual-” “Dude what the heck?” Jason gave them a quizzical look, still keeping a smile on his face “This is so much worse than anything that we could have ever imagined.” Dick immediately grabbed his phone “I’m going to call Zatanna because this needs to be undone. I know I typically try to make you guys act happy but this is disturbing.” As Dick talked on the phone trying to fix Jason, the other two tried not to vomit at the disgusting display of cheer and sunshine that Jason currently was. When Dick came back he looked a little less worried as he explained that there was a way, albeit a long convoluted way, to undo the contract

When the boys had finished redacting the contract and making Jason less…cheery, they tested it by having Dick give him a hug, to which Jason socked him in the ribs. “Yup,back to normal” The other two let out a relieved sigh while Dick tried to regain his breath “So, Jason, what we learned is that this is why you read contracts before you sign them!” Jason shrugged “Eh, it was in the fine print. What I learned is that smiling makes your face hurt, I don’t know how you do it Dick.” Tim groaned as Dick chuckled and Damian huffed, “You’re absolutely hopeless.”

Old-timey photograph from the 1930s of Broadhurst Avenue in Drumbridge, Michigan, featuring the busy sidewalk just outside the lobby of Fenneman Hall, at the time one of the last surviving squirrelesque variety houses - actually a “split house,” as it had to share the space with a bawdy burlesque operation.

When somebody asks me which came first, burlesque or squirrlesque, I tell them that there was a time when burlesque was described as “squirrelesque without the squirrels.”

Though Baby Gruenwald thoroughly enjoyed the comical rodents of squirrelesque, he never really understood the double entendres of burlesque, and only appeared in the more family friendly milieu of vaudeville.

ADDENDUM: For those confused about the sign in the foreground advertising “RED HOTS,” “HAMBURGERS,” and “VAPES,” you have to take into account this was northern Michigan, where red hots were a type of hot dog in meat sauce, hamburgers were a battered, deep-fried pork sausage patty, and vapes were the region’s famous crustless pizzas.