Dr. Dot's Blog

Dear Dr. Dot,
I am 27, my girlfriend is 19. I work hard all day and when I get home, she wants wild sex. I know, most guys dream of such a girl, but she just keeps me exhausted. I love her and do like making love with her, but it’s too much. How can a man complain correctly about this?
Exhausted in NYC

Dear Exhausted,
Sounds to me like someone has too much free time on her hands or too much energy. I wonder if she is working or at least working out. Get her a membership at a gym or hint that the house needs cleaning (always a turn off) or come right out and tell her you may get bored if you have it every day. Buy her porn and some K-Y jelly and tell her to get busy while you’re at work. If this is your biggest problem…….you are blessed!

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Hey Doc,
Are you a real Doctor or not?
Kim Queens, NY

Hey Kim,
According to the following definition, I am:
Doctor: 1. (Verb) to make suitable or improve by altering in a certain way. 2. (Noun) a person skilled in repairing or improving something broken or flawed, or specializing in healing arts. Verb: restore by replacing a part or putting together what is torn or broken

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Dear Dr. Dot,
My guy complains about his body all the time. He thinks he is overweight but he isn’t. Not a day goes by without him blabbing about how he has to lose weight and his fat stomach. I give him compliments every time hoping he will stop, but it just gets worse. I am going crazy.
Cindy, Brooklyn, NY

Dear Cindy
This is an annoying trend. So many guys whine about their figure, I am about to get sick. I find it boring and feminine when they stress over their waistline. This metro-sexual crap will eat our hetro men alive sooner or later. Tell him not to think out loud when it comes to his weight, as it is a giant turn off. If he keeps it up, say, “You’re right, you are just to dam fat to shag anymore, see ya!” Let me know how it goes.
Dr. Dot

You almost have to feel sorry for Berlin when you realize how broke it is. I’ve only been back here a week and at first I thought people were exaggerating about how minus they are on their bank accounts. Not only that, none of them can call out on their cell phones. You can call them, but their phones have been shut off long ago. Land lines? No fucking way, no one I know even has a land line anymore. What the hell is going on here? In 1989 when I moved here, it was thriving,money was everywhere.

Now, it’s “who’s gonna give in and call who first” to save money. Unreal. So this is how a recession looks? The women are furious. German men are already tight wads who refuse to buy a gal a drink, but now it’s hard-core. The women are supporting the men. Feeding them, inviting them out to eat and as my gal pals complained tonight , the men want “gratis muschi” ahem, how do I put this lightly, the men want it for free, as in, free trim without even the dinner/movie let alone pay their bills. Times are TOUGH here! Aggravated at first, now I feel sympathy for the people here. Where is it going now? Will another war have to break out to make enough jobs for the Germans? My older intelligent German female pals told me it will be this bad and worse for the next 10 years, and then maybe it will get better.

No wonder they can’t afford a smile. My good friend Jaquline was in tears tonight when she picked me up to go to the b-day party. She is crying cause she has too many bills and no man to support her. She is a Dentist, not a Dental Hygienist, a DENTIST and she can’t even make ends meet here. I told her to cheer up, she is beautiful, qualified/educated, healthy and loved and she has an apartment in the hottest part of Berlin with a gorgeous daughter. I told her if she can’t cure the problem at this very moment, she should at least try to enjoy the present time, the here and now.

Jaquline and I went to the cult bar called ‘White Trash Fast Food’ in the east of Berlin. The twins, Iris and Petra were throwing their b-day bash there. I met the owner, ‘Wally’ tonight for the first time. He is from L.A and told me he hates L.A as much as I do. (I doubt that is possible). I let him know his bar is the coolest in Berlin except for the cig smoke; I could barely see across the room, but that’s how it is all over Berlin.

 

 (above left: Petra and Wally/ above right: Jaquline and Iris at ‘White Trash Fast Food’)

I am now at home, sitting here naked, as my clothing is hanging outside on the balcony to air out from all of the friggin SMOKE it absorbed during my night out here in smokey ass Berlin. All of you cig smokers have no idea what I mean, it is so smokey here, you don’t even have to buy cigs, all you have to do is go out and breath in, you will get your fill of nicotine/tar for the night.

 (Martina, Frodo(?) and me)

No wonder I get ill from the cig smoke, look how wide I have my big yapper open the whole time (feel free to hog all the oxygen Dot!)

The HUGE guy in the back ground there, with the nose ring, is called Frodo, or Bodo, or Hodo, I couldn’t quite get the name with this Viral Labrinyth thing going on, yes, still deaf in one ear, can’t hear out the other. Plus he is a few feet taller then I so he had to shout down at me in his German banter. Gentle Giant I call him. Nice dude, let me know if you need a body guard. He is like my dogs, they look vicious, but they would never bite. (Dangerous people don’t know that so don’t tell ’em).

I dragged Martina and Jaquline to my old watering hole after the b-day bash, the ol’ Oscar Wilde. As usual it was packed with drunk Irish dudes. Some were aching to get slapped. They all had tried their best to impress me and my mates with really stupid pick up lines: “it’s me birthday, can I have eh birthday kiss eh?” I said, “show me your ID then.” He didn’t have it and oozed “liar”.

Another got pissed off that he ‘wasn’t my type’, and then told me I have a big arse (sour grapes laddy!) I said, “yes, look at my huge ass, the bigger then cushion, the better the pushin'”. This place is rough, especially after midnight. The lads would never speak to a female like that back home in Ireland, but here in Berlin, they behave badly, really badly. I don’t mind reminding them of their manners though. It was fun going there again and Terry, the owner was very pleased to have my there again, haven’t seen him for ages!

I have gotten mixed reviews about that huge ‘selling of my eggs on E Bay’ story (It made the cover of the news papers here) it brought out hate, envy, laughs and encouragement. Those who are easily shocked, should be shocked more often.

I often feel like the dog in this cartoon, you know, running against the wind:

WHEW! One good thing, my pal, the reporter, Alexandra, wrote a two page story about my life in NYC and I was sweatin’ it, wondering what she would write. It’s all good, no back stabbing or scandal. If you can read some German, you can see it HERE

John Lennon October 9th  1940- 1980

 

Not only was John born on October 9th, but his son Sean (with Yoko Ono) was also born on this day. My good pals Petra and Iris Hammerer were also born on this day. Happy Birthday my fellow Libras and John, you will never be forgotton, your words and music still inspire, heal and move millions. We love you.

John Lennon’s ‘Number 9 Dream” :

So long ago. Was it in a dream? Was it just a dream? I know, yes I know. It seemed so very real, seemed so real to me. Took a walk down the street. Through the heat whispered trees. I thought I could hear. Hear. Hear. Hear. Somebody call out my name (John) as it started to rain. Two spirits dancing so strange… Ah! Bowakawa, pousse pousse Ah! Bowakawa, pousse pousse Ah! Bowakawa, pousse pousse Dream, dream away. Magic in the air. Was magic in the air? I believe, yes I believe. More I cannot say. What more can I say? On a river of sound. Through the mirror go round, round. I thought I could feel. Feel. Feel. Feel. Music touching my soul. Something warm, sudden cold. The spirit dance was unfolding… Ah! Bowakawa, pousse pousse Ah! Bowakawa, pousse pousse

Here I am in Berlin, procrastinating doing the blog as the dial up connection makes it such a task. Also, the mood I slip into once I’m here, well, I am afraid it is contagious and it’s not something you would want to catch. Berlin Blues. Some things make me happy here, like sitting here and watching the ‘Making of Dark Side of the Moon’  dvd with Jasmine or taking Lucy for a walk, seeing old friends like Andrea, Petra, Sabine, Asita or Jaquline.

I am just over this place and yearn to be back in NYC. I get stuck in some kind of no mans land living two lives. When I come back to Berlin, it takes a while to get my foot back in the door for most things, you know getting back in the loop. People tend to scorn your for leaving them (be it customers, the press, friends, promoters, pets, everyone!). Then, after a few weeks when the ball starts rolling along nicely again, I leave back to NYC and when I arrive there, again, it takes me a while to get the ball rolling there again. It goes on and on, back and forth. Having one life and one bunch of worries is usually overwhelming for a person. Imagine having two lives. I sometimes think I have more than two. I do enjoy the fast paced air of it all, I would die of boredom if I didn’t live on the edge like I do, but the multi-tasking it takes to run two or more lives gives you insomnia.

Flight over was hell as usual. From my door in NYC to my door in Berlin it is always a 15-hour journey. When I get to my flat, it smells strange, like any empty place smells after being abandoned for months. I get hit with a stack of bills; bills that I never knew could exist (paying for radio waves for each TV and Radio you own, trash man charges, for example). I realize every time I come here, that Berlin is in dire straights. It is literally going out of business. Everywhere you look, shops have closed down, and restaurants have gone out of business. This town is so broke they can’t pay attention. So they keep raising the rents, raising prices (they pay for a liter of gas what Americans pay for a gallon) and they pay between 30% to 50% taxes (the richer you are, the more taxes they take).

All of this and top it off with miserable moods all around you. Service in shops and restaurants are beyond snotty. Even if you walk out of your house in a good mood, you will probably come home pissed off or sad, I am NOT joking. Maybe it’s the area of town I live in. I live in Wilmersdorf, which is know as a well-off area and it could be that money makes people uptight, snotty, bitchy, and hard. After all, it’s easier to be a prick if you are rich than poor right? Poor folks pretty much have to be nice.

I have always liked this area (Wilmersdorf and Gruenewald) because it is sparkling clean, safe and quiet. But the folks round here are judgmental snobs, quick to bitch, moan and gawk at you. Even the cashiers at the video shops are ruthless wankers, blowing cigarette smoke in your face as they yell at you in front of other customers. Yes, they smoke in video shops, in fact, all shops. I find it hard to find a spot in Berlin where they don’t smoke actually. Not sure if you can smoke in church, haven’t been in a while 😉  Oh how they LOATHE Americans here, they fucking HATE us here. If I wasn’t well known here, I would go around saying I was Canadian just to get some peace on the street. All of their anti-Bush anger gets thrown in your face repeatedly (and loudly). I will get a shirt printed “I didn’t vote for Bush, so back the fuck off”.

True, I am on the rag, but still, these feelings are legit. I always compare both countries over and over again, trying to make sense of it all. Germans make the best bread and cars, but they are grumpy and the men refuse to acknowledge a pretty woman. They are always right and never say they are sorry. However, Americans make the best films and TV shows and love to laugh and live for the moment. BUT, we are loud and invented the term “scammer”. So, you can see, both places have their ups and downs. I laugh the most in the USA though. It enriches you to live in another country, but then again it confuses you and puts you in an eternal state of feeling like a stranger. You learn so much and grow so wise you feel you have outgrown your hometown but then again you never fit into the other country completely. The Grateful Dead have a song “Feel like a stranger” that hits the nail right on the head.

Being in NYC though makes it all seem ok. No matter what kind of freak you have evolved into, you fit in just fine there. In Berlin, not so. Each section of town has their dress code. If you dress too nice in Kreuzberg, you will get a “oh, you think you are special huh? Hand over your money then”. If you wear ripped jeans or snearkers in Wilmersdorf, people will stop talking and look down their noses at you and STARE you down. No point in me going over each section unless you are planning a vacation here.

I haven’t had sex or karaoke for too long now, so everything looks even worse then it is. Sunday, however, there is a big karaoke party being thrown for me in honor of my birthday, so I will get to sing soon and have a laugh. The magazine I write for here the Ex-Berliner is throwing the party and Berlins best karaoke DJ, ‘Karaoke Monster’ will be the DJ, but there will also be a band, you can sing with the band backing you. They will rotate, DJ karaoke/band karaoke and so on.

Feel Like A Stranger

Inside you’re burnin’ I can see clear through
Your eyes tell more than you mean them to
Lit up and flashin’ like the reds and blues
Out there on the neon avenue
Well I, feel like a stranger (feel like a stranger)

Dr. Dot,

I live with my girlfriend and all is well, except when I want to jerk off. I never know when she is coming home, so it is difficult to relax enough to watch porn and spoil myself. Should I tell her or ask permission? I need my space.

Jeff, Hackensack, NJ

Jeff,

A sneaky way to get your free wanking time in, is to call her at work or on her cell and ask her what time exactly will she be home, but say it in a friendly way (avoid panting, as that is a dead give away). If she asks why, say you want to run a bubble bath for her or order food for the both or you and you don’t want it to get too cold. Figure out how long it takes her to get home and then you will know how much free Jerk time you have on your, er, hands. Most women wouldn’t understand you telling her or asking for permission, just be clever.

Dr. Dot

Dear Dr. Dot,
Please define for me what a groupie is. I slept with a musician and I am in conflict with myself and my friends.
signed, ‘You’ in W. Union, NJ

Dear You, 

I think there are many definitions to the term Groupie, just as there is for the word love. You love ice cream, you love your mom, you love that dress, that puppy etc. They are all different.
If being a groupie means you love a certain style of music or group so much that you go to most of their shows, or adore them so much you may get a tattoo with the bands name or name your kid/cat/dog after them, then I must be a groupie. This is a harmless sort of groupie, the kind that just LOVE the music so much that it becomes a way of life.
Then there are the kinds that do ANYTHING to meet the band: blowing fat roadies or shagging managers. This is nasty. They make the word ‘Groupie’ seem seedy and dirty. Some are not even into the music, they are just looking for a meal ticket, be it with a basketball star, rock star or politician, I call these ‘shameless groupies’.
So, you see, it’s not a simple answer, but if you have to balls to defend yourself, it’s worth the chat and the breath it takes to set the record straight.

Dr. Dot

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Dear Dr. Dot,

I have been curious about this for ages and probably at some point in time was told the answer..but why is it that guys have so many erections at night and usually wake up with one?  I asked a guy once or twice and they are like “I dunno?!”

Take care!

Petra

 

Petra,

About the penis situation. We all know men are led around by their dicks their whole lives, poor saps.

The reason they can’t control themselves (cheating, straying, watching porn) is because their cock is the boss, the one running the show.

Almost all men have erections during their sleep, and this occurs at a wide range of ages and spontaneous erections are just part of being male. We can use this “flaw” to our advantage (good head gets us foot massages and flowers from our guy etc.) but it is also extremely annoying if you are sleeping next to a guy who’s penis is up all night wanting to party.

Spooning only makes the situation ‘tense’ and only leads to two tired adults come sunrise.

If this is the problem, do NOT spoon with him at your rump, spoon with you at his rump.You can also put underwear and a wall of pillows between each other. My favorite is sleeping in separate rooms, but I am bitchier than most when it comes to sleep.

If you want to sleep next to each other, having sex before you sleep could ease the tension a bit, but if he is the randy type, his willy will still be up all night planning his next attack, so you’ll have to build a wall somehow: the bigger the dick, the bigger the wall, ask the Berliners.

Dr. Dot

 

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I love the look on the cat’s face. How many women look like that during sex? Like “just get it over with you dirty dog!”

Nice of you to write me, wishing me luck on getting rid of this cold. NO, I am NOT a Hypochondriac; I have ‘Viral Labyrinthitis’ come to find out. Since 11 days or so, I thought it was just a horrible cold and was given a prescription for Antibiotics over the phone, without my Doctor even seeing me. He was out of town and had his fill in ask me my symptoms.

I have had Tinnitus  for the last few years anyways, just like Pete Townshend has, but the last week I have become what seems to most as a DEAF pain in the ASS. My good pal Matt

 Matt (The ‘Back door man’ )

said something to me the other night and not sure if I heard him right, I said “did you just say David Hasslehoff?” He laughed his ass off, that wasn’t even close to what he said. He said  “I have to go wack off”. So now, every time we speak, and I can’t hear him, he says “DAVID HASSELHOFF DOT!”. Hours later I SWORE he said “Do you want a crack whore?” ( I mean really, it sounded just like that, but I was puzzled by the question, why would I need a crack whore?) Apparently he said  ” I wanted to put it in her back door”.

This virus I have makes you tired as HELL, effects your balance, and makes you dizzy and most of all, makes you deaf for a while, they say, most of the time you get back to normal, but sometimes you stay deaf 🙁    That would SUCK royally. No wonder karaoke sounded so bad on Thursday night, I couldn’t hear anything except the little voices in my head humming along to the Beatles tune I was singing!

If you click on VIRAL LABYRINTHITIS you will see what I am going through. I should be working my ass off and also, singing my ass off before my dreaded trip across the ocean to warm, friendly and happy Berlin (as if) but NO, I have to hang around my flat in my pajamas (yes, they are satin and red and dead sexy) and just try to chill (big chore for me to chill). I know it SOUNDS like I have been ill a lot lately, but really, it was just the Sciatic Nerve thing which started in March, then recently my too much to drink puke festival and now this. Maybe the drinking thing triggered this, I am such a wimp when it comes to drink. BUT I think it started two Wednesdays ago, when I was caught in a massive rain storm and got soaked to the bone, the went into a grocery store and since they like to keep them BELOW FUCKING ZERO here in the USA, I FROZE. Why do they keep them so cold? My guess is there are so many FAT people around, including most employees at the store, and we all know, fat insulates and makes one sweat. So they are all fat and sweating and have to keep it so cold. What about us thin folks? Should we carry a friggin sleeping bag around with us and wear UGG boots in case we have to shop?

Since that night, I felt ill. First sore throat, coughing binges, fever and dizzy spells and LOUD chirping/ringing in my ears and kind of a muffled pounding sound which makes my friends sound like they are constantly talking about David Hasselhoff (not just my German friends who talk about him every day anyways) .Listen, I don’t want any sappy emails wishing me well, I don’t deserve them as I am bitchy as hell right now. I am only telling you this crap so you know why I haven’t been out to karaoke. I am so tired I almost fell asleep driving Alexandra (at 80 miles an hour) to the Newark Airport tonight.

That picture above is Alexandra, Joy and I in Hoboken. Alexandra wanted a view of NYC from across the water, and I’ll be dammed if I am going to Brooklyn ever again. (Don’t write me hate mail about bashing Brooklyn either as I don’t care. If you stop too long at some lights, your hub caps will be stolen!). A lot of people have written me and asked me why there are no pictures of Joy. Good Question, but freaky answer. Joy is so deep, I swear she has some freaky Indian soul that hates it’s picture being taken. It sabotages almost every photo I take of her! I do have a nice one of her on my www.drdot.com web site, in the Assistants section though. She is from New Zealand in case you didn’t know yet and has become my best friend in America. I love her madly. Alexandra got to see the famous Hoboken (where Frank Sinatra was hatched) and loved it, in fact, her exact words were “If I moved to the US, I will move here. I like it much better than NYC. It is so quiet and clean and so close to Manhattan!”. So there you go.

I don’t know where this picture below has been for so long, but is it me on a killer Harley a while back showing off my rump. If you look hard enough, you can see Satu on the right laughing.

That would be us trying to wake up a DULL Berliner VIP party. Not going to those boring things anymore, if there is no karaoke, count me out.

“When I wake up early in the morning
Lift my head, I’m still yawning
When I’m in the middle of a dream
Stay in bed, float up stream (float up stream)

Please, don’t wake me, no, don’t shake me
Leave me where I am – I’m only sleeping

Everybody seems to think I’m lazy
I don’t mind, I think they’re crazy
Running everywhere at such a speed
Till they find there’s no need (there’s no need)

Please, don’t spoil my day, I’m miles away
And after all I’m only sleeping”  BEATLES