FAMOUS JEWS AND KEVIN COSTNER LOOKALIKES

I think it would be nice if I could go one day without seeing someone who looks exactly like Kevin Costner.
I am pretty sure that his genetic makeup must be one of the most common in the world, or at least in Berlin, Germany.
It is not the worst thing in the world to happen, but I am basically sick of thinking the thought ‘great, there is another Kevin Costner lookalike,’ on such a regular basis.



Admittedly it is a real treat when I see my FAVOURITE Kevin Costner lookalike, who actually half looks like Kiefer Sutherland as well and is always smoking or looking arty/broody.
I have taken to calling him Kiefin Costerland behind his back and think him to be either a director, or a photographer, or just unemployed. Mainly because I always see him just sitting around at cafes, and because his broodiness gives him some kind of look that says ‘maybe I should be capturing this moment on film, whether it be still images or moving pictures’.
He also has a dog, which makes me think he is not unemployed as it looks healthy as opposed to malnourished.
Once I was sitting opposite him in a café and wrote a poem about him, and I am not really prone to poetry as it is a bit faggy.

Kief cost (my favourite Kevin Costner lookalike in this town)
Imagine if Kevin Costner had been attacked by a wolf and killed halfway through the filming of Dances with Wolves… would you have been there to step in?....
It would have meant you needed to act, and also direct.
And have sex with the actress who played your love interest and looked like she came from a big pile of rubbish.
I think you have it in you….
Imagine if you were at a party and Donald Sutherland was so wasted or got maced that his vision was blurry and he thought you were his son and he asked you to drive him home… would you have been there to step in?...
I think your heart is that big.
Imagine if Kevin Costner and Keifer Sutherland had both impregnated a lady at the same time… would you have been the result?
They would have had to have done it pretty young though as you look about 40.


I am basically sick of writing about anything to do with Kevin Costner and/or Kiefer Sutherland now. So I feel like it is time for a topic change.

After a very in depth discussion with my Israeli drummer about how many famous Jews there are in the world, I decided to do some research and have come to the following conclusions.
a) There are certainly more Jewish celebrities than there are from New Zealand
b) Some of the Jewish babes are the hottest babes in the world ie Natalie Portman (schwing) and Selma Blair and Kate Hudson. And Scarlett Johansen.





I have therefore decided to make a list called ‘My Top 50 Jews, by MANIAC HOLST’.
Although I don’t plan to rush into it and come out with some ridiculously unresearched list I will still state now that my drummer is definitely at the top of the list even though he is not as famous as some of them. He is closely followed by Larry David, my favourite celebrity Jew.
For anyone who thinks they will be able to predict who will be on my list, I wouldn’t count your chickens before they hatch.
Especially don’t think I will be adding Woody Allen or any of the members from the band Kiss or Adam Sandler, because they would not be in the top 50 jews in my book.
Woody Allen would maybe be in my list of 50 worst Jews, or at least 50 most sniveling-slash-annoying Jews.
And also he would probably be on my list of 50 People To Have Gotten With Their Step Daughter and Pretended It Was Totally Normal.
Anyway, it is a work in progress, so I am not going to go on about it all day. but if I were you, i would be wishing me 'Masal Tov'.

Soooooooooooo.....


I'm not sure if theft has become more public lately, but, yesterday standing at the Barcelona airport in one of the most annoying lines I have ever been in (a curved line where you couldn’t see the end, also full of annoying people who keep looking around), a young girl on a sports trip cut in front of me and stole a chocolate donut out of the self serve cabinet.
it was so horribly blatant to everyone around, although I was not thinking that at the time as I was too busy thinking how it looked totally delicious.



It awoke several emotions in me as she scuttled back out of the line, not really caring that she stood on my foot as she passed (idiot).
a) jealousy. Why didn’t I have that donut? Why hadn’t I thought to steal one?
b) respect. She had stolen the donut from a blind spot in the line, where no staff would have seen it and she had done it with confidence. Maybe she was a seasoned thief.
c) annoyance. Not only did she stand on my toe, she pushed past with a bit too much aggression and it made me feel like tripping her up or at least telling on her. But I didn’t because I CBB (couldn’t be bothered)

Either way that damn donut looked good, although I refrained from buying one as I only had enough cash for a juice which I saw as more important at the time as I was basically boiling alive and sweating like never before.

Getting from Barcelona back to Berlin seemed to take forever due to a series of unfortunate events and annoying people coming into my path. After boarding the U7 underground train from Schonefeld airport, just when I thought I was almost ‘home free’, the doors opened and there walking towards me to squeeze down in the seat beside me was The Hot Massive Breather. I had seen him on the trains before, but never had the pleasure of him sitting right beside me. I had definitely heard him breathe, as you are guaranteed to hear it from at least ten metres away through a snow storm. But the deluxe encounter I was about to get really was a bonus.
The warmth of his body eminating through his clothes onto me gave me the same uncomfortable feeling as you would get from putting your hand into a pile of hot compost, aka the impulsion to dry retch.



The volume of his breathing was at approximately 100 decibels.
If you are not aware how loud that is, other things which are approximately 100 decibels are
a) a passing truck
b) a home lawn mower
c) a car horn at five metres
d) a wood saw
e) a boiler factory
And of course lots of other loud crap. Suffice to say, that The Hot Massive Breather is NOT the greatest person to sit next too on the train, especially when he is reading a magazine, as when he starts concentrating his breathing moves up to around 110 decibels and you can add another 10 decibels to that due to the fact he turns the pages so forcefully.
120 decibels?
a) a riveter
b) a wood chipper
c) thunder
d) a diesel engine room
e) a fireworks display
He is officially my worst person to sit next to on the Berlin underground service. That is confirmed.
I muttered ‘good riddance’ as I left the train and his sweaty, noisy half-embrace and thought about how much I wanted to get home and make a freshly squeezed orange juice or a raspberry smoothie, as these are now part of my daily regime.
Please note this daily regime also includes:
a) looking out the window,
b) going on the internet,
c) waiting for June 18th (the opening of the Neukolln Pools),
d) walking around
e) going to the Linsensuppe (lentil soup) shop to see if my main Berlin enemy The Linsensuppe Ferret has returned from holiday, or if he really is dead as I suspected. (you can read more about that idiot here): http://whateverorwhateveretc.blogspot.com/2010/09/jupiter-mars-blue-whales-fourth.html

Today’s daily routine included waking up from having ANOTHER dream that I had a black child, with a white lady. In the dream I can never work out if we adopted the child or if she cheated on me. But it is a good way to start the day I suppose.