I arrived in Berlin yesterday, after a wonderful jaunt in England. Reunited with my BFF, I am ready to conquer Deutschland.

First observation: this is a great place to be a beer-drinking carnivore. Within hours I was making digestive love to a streetside doner and wondering how I made 24 years without it. To borrow a phrase from my friend Chris, the doner might just be the reason food was invented; the stuff is like shwarma on delicious, delicious steroids.

From there, we went to a Clash tribute bar (called, well, Clash) and I was yelled at by a horrifying woman with hair horns and oddly placed facial piercings for taking a picture without asking permission first–apparently there’s some sculpture or something that isn’t supposed to be there. Brunhilde, Carmen calls her. I will try to get photographic evidence of this creature at some point–apparently she terrifies all living things who cross her path. It must be nice to have that power.

After the fear subsided, I was able to devote my attentions to the glorious wonder that is German beer (AKA holy water). All I can say is, damn. But with two syllables. DA-YUM.

I think I was made for this country.