Halted in the Stroll.

I don’t stroll now. I wait when I could do that. When my bank accounts work and maybe I could make something to become independent. It will be no later than December. Currently, I am almost out of drinks. I had another Red Label and still keep an uncorked Mount Hermon Red Galilee. Meanwhile, further processing of Johnnie Walker Black Label led to the dissipation of colorant. Why manufactures started to include it if it wasn’t before? That doesn’t improve. The world has become too much vegetable in recent years. I want to tell these ones and other stories from my strolls on the globe.

It was in Brighton in 2004, when I lived with a family. In the end, one of their men was going to ride me to a pickup station. I wasn’t adapted back then that a steering wheel in the United Kingdom on the right side, and I automatically walked to there. This bewildered the driver–who was in his twenties–who with that intonation said to me that the passenger’s seat on the other side. It’s a common knowledge that the steering wheel isn’t only in one place in this world, but that gentleman didn’t hear about that.

The studying about Hispanic people in America and the attitude toward them caused me to have concerns. They made me not to accept anybody who supports them. I stopped to watch Michael Franzese’s videos because he launched a Spanish-language channel. I’m open to anything from him, but if the respective pandering won’t be there. He speaks and fights for the saving America, while he committed the vice versa act.

If Hispanic ladies have minds, Muscovian-speaking people whether its male or female mostly don’t. When someone of that nationality stepped on my way walking, I didn’t move out. If anyone wanted to be hit by a train, be my guest. I didn’t excuse even a woman (there was no land for chivalry; you shouldn’t give it to these vice females who like to command and regard it as normality, but they have no familia in values, as that comes from Hispanic dames). Even the political opposition there was with the prefix “far”. Among them was a female who taught me their Muscovian language. There was mentioning of America during our meetings. At one time, she said her dislike to it, which was for their bombing of Yugoslavia that included the destroying of Belgrade. As is typical for her nation, her mind was one-sided. She had no clue why the Yugoslav Wars began and didn’t admit Serbian amoral acts that included the ethnic cleansings of various nationalities, as one of them was Srebrenica Massacre (ninety percent of war crimes in these conflicts were committed by that nation). Clinton was supposed to strike those fiends in that eastern territory who shot down the balloon with two Americans in 1995. The vengeance still didn’t happen.

I wasn’t supposed to be on a plane of United Airlines when I flew from America to Frankfurt, but I was. Gladly, I didn’t notice political correctness among the staff.

Nevertheless, it had the most unauthentic food on the plane of all companies I had used. You don’t expect any good quality there, but it was way worse than usual. The meat and anything else didn’t remind their initial tastes.

The screen in front of me didn’t respond properly to my touching it. That was moving in wrong directions or failed to execute the command. United Airlines is the cheapest in quality a flight company.

I shared the row with a German man. My origin from them, but I have a lot of uncommon with their character. It is the normality for Germans when body contacts with each other or to enter into someone’s space. They are rude with gestures and have an uncouth cuisine that could be good if you’re working out, but these people are supportive and helpful personalities and like the order in things. That person on the other seat moved his hands on the armrest or outside it, and I touched him back. The helpful side was from this man was when I wanted to visit, my excuses, the bathroom. The one in front of me had a people’s line. That gentleman said about checking the other on the back side. I thanked him and went to the small room, which–I found out–was free.

In the future, when I’m in Germany and visit the places that I planned, I will do it by car, but I won’t behind the steering wheel there. That infamous aggressive driving of these people could raise my Viking origins.

I’ve read about Catalan cuisine before coming to Barcelona. When I was at El Pintor, I saw its dessert Mato on the menu, and I told myself instantly that I should take it. Amazing to find something that has no anything sweet, as it has with this treat.

Being in New York last time, I started to think that I wouldn’t live in this town today though I always longing for it after I leave every time. It didn’t change about you see bums or any peculiar characters. It was part of normality for me many years ago, but I don’t get a delight from that and lack of order in places now. The last mayor election couldn’t but complete that feeling. Reading the social statistics of voters, I noticed obvious that majority among these groups who didn’t vote for this Saddam were people who didn’t finish the college and those whose income was lower nominal 50000 dollars or from the top whose earn more than 250000 dollars. It corroborated my facts. Besides, you can’t live in an apartment construction after the house, even it’s the Flatiron Building, which hasn’t much interesting for the view. It would be a displeasure to see someone in the window from another skyscraper and also ask “How dare you look at my side?!”

In my strolling, I watch workers riding the public transports or their activity in any venues, and see their usefulness to society and that they make things active. I looked at those men with suits and white shirts as slaves while functionality of many of them is needless, as can see they sit on the job and do nothing. Some months ago, I heard in an interview from Sly Stallone–and talks about it a lot with the release of The Steps–that he was an usher in cinema. He confessed that on this bottom job he received the whole knowledge about filmmaking, which he didn’t get in college.

I decided to use Vivaldi as browser because DuckDuckGo could freeze and I was forced to wrap and open back to return its functionality. Alas, both these browsers don’t allow to delete the presence on the sites at all (your story of visited pages saves there). In Vivaldi, you also have to close windows manually because they appear when you enter the next time. Then you should press the main cross. Firefox never had these shortcomings. Nevertheless, while planning potential routes, I discovered the owners of castles who turn their places into unhistorical. Chateau du Haut-Koenigsbourg amazes in its outside inventive design. The look inside disappoints that it was turned into an ordinary country house of a wealthy man.

The other thing that I try to find in strolling. There should be a picture of me and searching the spirit of Christmas.