uberlin

As you already know, we’re really trying to learn German. What started as a vague desire not to be the expats with the shittiest Deutsch became one of our New Year’s Resolutions… and along with our new puppy, came a new goal: to be able to speak to six year olds in their own language about how “klein” and “süss” she is. But even with the Daily Deutsches and the weekly tutorials, we still find it hard to get regular practice. That’s where Duolingo, language learning software with a difference, is helping:

If you want to find out more about the story behind Duolingo, scroll down for founder Luis von Ahn’s presentation at TEDxCMU. Aside from his unique mission - using language learning to get 100m people to translate the web into every major language for free - I’ve already been impressed by the private beta version of Duolingo’s German program.

It’s simple, social (connecting to both Facebook and Twitter), works all your passive and active language skills – listening, reading, speaking and writing – and allows you to learn in manageable chunks, marked by a real sense of achievement. Plus, it pulls in real online content which is inherently more interesting than the usual textbook scenarios – so far, I’ve translated texts about Jeff Bridges, Ghostbusters and Nazis! Best of all, it’s totally free!

Duolingo are still gradually inviting new users – sign up over here.

Not content with having two lovely cats here in Berlin, we decided to keep things interesting and throw a new puppy into the mix! Maybe we’re mental, but after moving to another country, where we didn’t know anyone or even speak the language, we thought that looking after a puppy would be <ahem> a walk in the park. We didn’t count on the sleepless nights and constant playing, walking and training that make this pretty much a full time job. But when we look into those big bug eyes our hearts melt, and it’s all worth it.

This wasn’t an easy decision (especially with two cats!) and we only found Olive after six months of searching for a breeder who cared as much about their animals as we did. We first found Chien Royal, whose photos alone are worth checking out even if you don’t feel you can commit to the real thing. Unfortunately they didn’t have any pups left so they recommended Martina at Kleine Franzosen, whose dam had just had a litter. We waited ten weeks until Olive was ready to leave her mum, but thankfully Martina kept me up to speed daily with how she was getting on and posted lots of photos on her Facebook page so I didn’t miss out on her growing up. I really can’t thank her enough for all her help and advice – she’s clearly committed to breeding happy, healthy bullies, and making sure they go to the right homes.

Olive is now settling in really well (she can “sit” already!) and the cats even are adjusting to their new sister . If you fancy keeping up to date with Olive’s adventures, then you can check out her very own Tumblr here.

Mr. Sexpat is a twentysomething English expat living, and occasionally loving, in Berlin. Join us as we follow him into the seamy underbelly of the city’s single scene.

“Breaking news: I’ve met someone.

APPLAUSE!

She has a boyfriend.

…

Don’t worry, I have met someone else. What staggering luck right?!

CHEERING!

She lives in a different country.

GROAN.

Normally we’d go round a third time in this fashion but I sense that you are beginning to recognise a pattern forming. I am here today to tell you about a new nadir reached by this particular single male – Friends Visiting Friends In Berlin (or, as I like to call it, Shooting Yourself In The Penis).

As many of you have had chums rocking up for long, debauched weekends of tourism, sleeping in your bed and crawling along Weserstrasse, I’m sure you can understand what a tempting honeypot this can be for the desperate among us.

At first your friend’s friends seem super-attractive because you already have a lot in common (a shared language, some sexual organs, etc) and the fact that these beautiful vacationers are one Kevin Bacon away on the social ladder means a certain amount of trust XP is gained. Plus you get to play the single cool guy making it in Berlin yeeeah! I mean if this isn’t the plot for a sexy scene in a German porno then I don’t know what is!

Having double double checked with your fellow Berlinerpat pal that said target is single, many a European dollar is spent plying them with alcohol mixed with more guile than it would take to fuck a snake charmer. Even heading to White Trash at 2am seems like a good idea… until your target casually drops one infamous and awful word into a sentence: “My boyfriend loves this band!”

I am Napolean Bonaparte’s tortured ex-testicle.

Amazingly I fall for this every. Fucking. Time. I find it hard being polite to new people as it is, but I figure if my friend’s fit friend thinks I’m a “nice guy” then within the space of the weekend they’ll pity me enough to give me a blowjob in the Bassy toilets or at least a sympathetic handjob while waiting for the N27.

But once the B-word is uttered a soul-destroying look glazes over my eyes and I suppress a very natural urge to break my own spine on the nearest table edge. Once out of the psychological danger zone, I attempt to transform the tears in my empty wallet into real cash money so that I can then purchase eleven thousand Berliner Kindl, smoke an entire pack of Nil Weiss and watch the sun come up while drowning in a lonely pool of my own sick.

Basically kids, it’s a losing situation at the Loss Factory in Loserville. Do single people even exist anymore?! According to 2012 they don’t. And what lesson have we learned? Either: Don’t bother leaving your WG unless it’s for food/to escape a gas leak OR Stop trying to mack on the mates of your mates, and start looking for love in all the right places.

Whatever it is, try looking up FML in the Urban Dictionary and you’ll find a picture of me, eating my own limbs.”

“Phew, what’s that smell?”
“Oh that. It’s just James.”

While I’m used to hearing these words, pretty soon they won’t have the same negative connotations – because luxury fragrance brand Frau Tonis Parfum have invited us to create an überlin perfume!

We have no idea what we’re doing, so we hope it doesn’t end up like those episodes of The Apprentice when they develop a deodorant that ends up burning people’s skin off or something. As the “recipe” of our special scent will be available to buy (as long as we don’t burn down the lab) we thought it would be wise to do some market research. So here’s your chance to get involved with the R&D of a new, high-end, hopefully sweet-smelling brand.

EDIT: We’ve closed our survey after an enthusiastic, but not particularly fragrant, response. Below are the results:

Not only is Berlin the startup capital of Europe, it’s fast becoming its App-icentre. Developers and netrepreneurs are coming up with mobile solutions for problems you never knew existed, in the hopes of earning geek points and investment from Ashton Kutcher. Whether you want to explore Berlin, buy your buddy a beer or just make sure that you’re never alone again, if there isn’t already an app for that, there soon will be. überlin thought it was time to halt the march towards App-igeddon, and to come up with five apps that Berlin really needs.

Summerfy
Berlin winters getting you down? Can’t bear another miserable grey sky? We have the perfect solution with our Summerfy app! Using augmented reality our app can turn the most depressing of scenes into a beautiful summer’s day. Simply point your mobile device at whatever is bumming you out and see it transformed instantly. Berlin – and Berliners – never looked so good!

iProtest
Berliners’ favourite pastime just got social! Now you can earn badges, as well as bragging rights, when you attend the city’s countless demonstrations. Stick it to The Man and be crowned Green God/dess, Nuclear Reactor, Nazi Hunter or Baby Bugger-Off-er. One day you could be the proud owner of the coveted WTF?! badge, issued when everyone is rallied together to protest, but no one seems to know why.

Buskamatic
This app recreates the Berlin busker experience in all its horror. Bursting with over 100 badly-sung songs, played poorly on outmoded instruments, Buskamatic will annoy your fellow commuters just like the real deal! With styles like “Atonal Accordion”, “Ballad Bollocks” and “Fuck off Folk”, you’ll blend seamlessly with your busker buddies, and wonder how you ever lived – and paid the rent – without this mobile music maker.

Find-a-Pfand
The Berlin streets aren’t exactly paved with gold, but every other bin contains treasure – bottles that can be returned for a deposit, or Pfand. Find-a-Pfand hacks Google Maps to show the location of the bottle banks and trash cans that are overflowing with glass goodies, and the closest place to collect your cents. The bottle icons glow red when collection time approaches – get there fast to pick up your pay day!

Angry Berliners
Sick of dealing with German bureacracy? Why not take out your frustrations on this classic strategy game?! Fire your Angry Berliner through webs of red tape, topple over mountains of paperwork, and repeatedly bang his head against brick walls,  in order to defeat the pencil-pushing Office Pigs. With over 200 levels available in the App Store, you’ll really be getting somewhere – unlike in real life. Angry Berliner soft toys coming soon!

What Berlin apps would you like to see? Drop us a comment below.

Mr. Sexpat is a twentysomething English expat living, and occasionally loving, in Berlin. Join us as we follow him into the seamy underbelly of the city’s single scene.

“Dear Summer,

How have you been? It’s been many months since I last saw you and I find myself thinking of you often.

I thought I saw you one afternoon last week in Prenzlauer Berg, but when I asked your cousin Winter if you were in back in Berlin she just shrugged. She said you that you guys hadn’t spoken for years and how you’re full of hot air or something…

I’m okay. I’ve been “writing” for some crummy expat blog while trying to get laid – without much success. So pretty much the same as ever, I guess. But I still feel guilty about how we left things last year.

Looking back I realise that I didn’t appreciate you as much as I should have, in the short time that you were around. When you were last in Berlin I was either asleep all day or hungover or whatever… I completely forgot what a great wingman you can be! With your cousin around girls wear far too many layers so I can’t really get a good idea of their physique – and by “physique”, I of course mean tits. Then she’ll say that I shouldn’t be so sexist and objectify women like that.

“It’s what’s inside that counts,” Winter tells me.

“I know,” I reply. “That’s why I’m trying to get inside somebody!”

Don’t get me wrong, I do really like your cousin but you know she can be a total bummer sometimes. She’s just so… cold.

You’ve got to come back soon right? All my female friends think you’re really hot; just the other day one of them asked when I thought you’d be back. When you’re around all the Gorgonites go back to their caves and the hot dames return, gliding in from The Baltic Sea aboard gigantic, gleaming sea oysters pulled by three and a half thousand pygmy unicorns.

If you do come back soon I promise to make more of an effort with you. There are a ton of festivals I want to attend, and we can go on that weekend mini-break to Hamburg we talked about. (I hear the talent there is exquisite… perhaps because it’s that much closer to Scandinavia?) We’ll finally go to Wansee, walk around for hours and hours, and talk about any boring shit you like…

Like I said, it would be great to see you again so, if you’re not still mad at me, give me a shout when you get back. I really miss you and Berlin just isn’t the same without you.

Lots of love,

Mr. Sexpat

PS Spring tells me you should call her asap, you still owe her 20€.”

cicciostoky, The sky over Berlin, via Flickr, Creative Commons Attribution

Mr. Sexpat is a twentysomething English expat living, and occasionally loving, in Berlin. Join us as we follow him into the seamy underbelly of the city’s single scene.

“LARGE SCREAM! It’s the first year in ages that I’ve been single; single and in Berlin! Enter slightly agitated emoticon stage left. This is the one day of the year dedicated to that crazy little thing called Love (and to emptying your wallet). But worry not – for I am about to advise a number of people I have never met how to survive Valentine’s Day based on nothing more than common sense and crushing narcissism.

In a relationship? Either you leak currency all over your loved ones or face potentially fatal levels of passive-aggressive psychological warfare. “But wait!”, you exclaim. “I just handed all my money to some fat, pissed prick in a red suit not more than a month ago!” My advice, mate, is never argue with winged men-children wielding a bow and arrow. Also, always check if anyone nearby can also see said flying Roman deity before replying…

Currently single or “it’s complicated” (not a real thing)? Things shouldn’t appear quite as bleak as they probably really are, because – thank Eros – Berlin clearly doesn’t give two flying heart-shaped shits about February 14th! Not just because it’s a massive waste of effort and money but it’s also quintessentially un-Berlin. Case in point: not one single person in the German office I occasionally pretend to work in is celebrating or even thinking about V-Day. Meanwhile, walk down any high street in the UK and it suddenly becomes imperative that you spend at least 100 English dollars on reminding your loved ones that you remembered that you should remind them to remember that you love them very very much.

The closest I’ve come to witnessing any kind of romance in Berlin is on a small patch of grass in Tiergarten frequented by naked men. Don’t believe me? How about a hot date with a sexy doner in Hermannplatz watching homeless people pass out in portable toilets with needles sticking out of their arms? This city was built on Sex & Drugs, not Ro & Mance.

So, single Berliners, what are we going to do while the balls and chains of the city loudly exchange mouth DNA on various mode of transport? As in any capital city, the lonely hoards are paying more rent and taxes and not getting laid frequently enough – they must be entertained! For instance, you could go sit in a bar, get drunk, take some rotter home and “fuck the pain away”. Or why not paint your bathroom windows black, kill the lights, blindfold yourself in a cold tub full of ice and wait until morning comes? You’ll be saving countless Euro Pounds by not plying someone you’ve already seen naked 7,822 times before with toxic amounts of alcohol just to see if their legs will bend an extra two inches further behind their head.

For those that are perfectly happy with their partner and are planning to make everyone else feel totally shit about it, why not buck the trend? Instead of letting-him-or-her-do-that-thing-he-or-she-likes once a year take pity on a desperate, lonely pal and treat them to a trip to the movies. Head down to the state-of-the-art (plug!) English language CineMaxx in Potsdamer Platz. The last slushy film I saw there contained scenes of anal rape, patricide and incest. Well romantic.

How about some Tuesday group ping pong action at Dr.Pong in Prenzlauer Berg or some sociable spitting off the Warschauer Bridge? Whatever you do, let’s not forget that the real point of Valentine’s is proclaiming your love to an unsuspecting crush who may not know – or even want to. Why not throw caution to the Windgeschwindigkeit and mail that Fraulein what makes your heart flutter a nice, big origami penis? She’ll know who it’s from.

Me, I’ll be taking the night off from trawling the Berlin streets for vagina and sitting in bed watching Say Anything – which is ten times cheaper and 10 million times more romantic than getting drunk and pulling some rotter just to “fuck the pain away”.

Failing that, do you think it will be too cold for a late night trip to Tiergarten?”

Ever since we got our first tattoos at AKA, we’ve been itching (not literally!) to get more. No matching designs this time, though. As I’m a little more impulsive than Zoë, and a lot less concerned about what is indelibly inked onto my body, I went ahead without her for tattoos two and three. Having said that, she still plays a part in the designs – she was there at the Fischerspooner concert where we saw the neon light that was basis for the upside-down pyramid on my right arm, and she *is* the Z that now appears on my ring finger.

If you like these, and are looking for sharp tattoos with poker-straight lines, I totally recommend Ana at White Light Tattoo. I have a bunch more tattoo ideas in my head, and I’ll be getting them all done there!

Mr. Sexpat is a twentysomething English expat living, and occasionally loving, in Berlin. Join us as we follow him into the seamy underbelly of the city’s single scene.

“Before we begin today’s lesson let me say two words in a certain order. Maybe you can come back in a few weeks if it’s all a bit too hard to comprehend. Ahem…

Fucking internet dating.

…

Okay! Those of you still left, I apologise in advance for exposing the abject loneliness which leads you to use our beloved Internet as some modern day pimping machine. Believe me, I understand. Your MacBook longs to one day grow up to become Skynet, not OK C.O.M.P.U.T.E.R. But before you enter your credit card details for a 16.5% stronger chance of finding “love” in your “area” I have a plan to annihilate this insipid purveyor of hope. First, let me write a few paragraphs about my second favourite thing after sex: myself.

I recently joined an internet dating site one lonely drunken night and thus began wasting many bleak hours (while wasted) looking for love. Ironically, this time could have better spent on the streets of the German capital actually meeting other people in beer-related social situations. As one moustached lothario famously said, “It is but a fool that joins an internet dating service for free and then complains about it you cheap, desperate git.”

But why do we waste precious hours filling out various quizzes, nudging attractive maybes or clicking on profiles for people who we normally wouldn’t consider sexing even after a ten year stint in Papillon?

NOTE: I appreciate that some of you out there might not have Good Looks high on your criteria for potential life partners. Personally I’m tragically superficial and will let something like one eye or third degree burns sway me somewhat away from a girl. Have we not invented an ugly button on these sites yet? Just saying.

Oh yeah I asked a question didn’t I? Damn you A-Level English. Well I don’t know about any of you lot, but just waiting for one little poke, wink, message or absurd proposition of intercourse on these sites is akin to a heroin addict queuing outside the job centre every fourteen days…

Anyway! Once you receive a polite mail from Bunny11 (daddy issues) or LonelyBerliner_666 (self-harmer) you enter into a waiting game while each person tries to avoid being the first to suggest actually meeting up, or worse, one week later your intended either loses interest or realises you’re probably a total pillock for trying to meet people online. YOU CAN’T WIN!

But wait, earlier I mentioned a plan (GCSE English Lit).

Berlin is a lonely city, I know, but you’re only making it lonelier by sitting in your room writing to people you’ll never meet. The less of YOU to look at online means more of THEM on the streets! So join me my single brethren in taking back the streets from the Internet and it’s gorgeous, simple lies. This strategy is so faultless it took me ONE SINGLE SECOND to think of! Take your eyes from your computer screen (but not yet, I haven’t finished!), round up your mates – but not too many couples ’cause right now they’re your Kryptonite – and let’s subject this city to all-out sexual armageddon!

There will be no more “winking”. We shall burn the Quick Match at the stake and eviscerate all quizzes. Women under 40! You’re gorgeous, funny and clearly missing out on a shed load of cock so approach a guy you like the look of. He’ll bloody love it, and if he doesn’t then stop going to bars in Mitte. Men! You have stomachs, facial hair and a deep-seated suspicion of change. Stop lying about your interests cause that’s for interesting people. You know what you want. You want what the other lot want; to talk about movies, laugh and see someone else naked.

YES!!

So delete that Match.com, eharmony or Office Angels profile and get in that bar, house party or Späti. When we’re done Berlin will have seen more consensual sex than it has since David Hasselhoff stood on a wall and had bottles of piss thrown at him.

Condom sales will rise… RISE I tell you!”

Mr. Sexpat is a twentysomething English expat living, and occasionally loving, in Berlin. Join us as we follow him into the seamy underbelly of the city’s single scene.

“Berlin is a city at odds with those that visit and with those that stay. Berlin is a city for those lost and found, and the rest of us somewhere in-between. Berlin is for many things and for many people. What Berlin is not for is lovers. That is a fucking joke.

Having spent a good amount of the last year single, not-so-single and getting the occasional rub up in and around different bar stools, I have found myself at the dregs of 2011 the most utterly unsexed, ungroped and unsnogged since I first entered the eternal cagefight with the opposite sex.

Let me share a little secret: be it boy, girl, hipster, pug, gallery owner, electro DJ, promoter, office manager, toilet cleaner, bar owner, magazine editor, intern, student, protestor, database manager or smelly Sternburg prince; in Berlin you are either hopelessly in love or most weeknights alone, hopelessly self-involved with your right hand. There is a myth (no doubt created by a totally loved-up “bi-curious” “blogger” sat in a “cafe” somewhere, Skyping to their mates back home that they’re either a) “knee deep in German clunge” or b)”living with a performance artist called Greg”) that the streets of Berlin are awash with free pussy and/or dick. I am here to tell you (left) hand on heart that it’s not.

You can expect to spend your first months in Berlin wandering aimlessly about, too shitfaced to even see let alone meet someone, before that sinking feeling kicks in. Why are all your friends a) depressingly relationshipped or b) achingly single? Where are those poor, deluded first pangs of affection for a guy/gal/pug? Why is everyone in this cafe one half of a couple?! Bitch please, you made the one and only mistake you can make in Berlin – thinking that this city likes you.

antjeverena, "Berlin doesn't love you", via Flickr, Creative Commons Attribution

Berlin, the poor guy (come on, the TV Tower is clearly not a clit!), has had a tough bloody time of it over the last century and he doesn’t want you falling in love and creating more idiots to gurn in future Photoautomats. “But you’re wrong,” I hear you object. “I know lots of people who are getting laid and having a great time!” You’re missing the point. These people are free-love scum and will be destroyed as nuclear level crabs devour them from the inside out.

As I and the rest of the great unwashed ride this rollercoaster of a city, we wonder how the fuck are we going to meet anyone normal enough, good looking enough, to chat and maybe even have a relationship with. “Oh but the grass is always greener, blah blah more fish in the sea…” Well most of the fish in the Spree are vegetarian, political and much much more beautiful than you or I pal- so take your outdated notion of free love and get to the back of the queue. Some of us have been waiting a lot longer than you.

I hereby declare 2012 the year of the single Berliner! Raise your contraceptive device high boys! We’re going the find some thumbs to crawl under!”