lol, suddenly the Russians and Georgians are all reading my blog

16,537 United States
1,798 Georgia
1,351 Russian Federation
870 Germany
672 United Kingdom
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9 Satellite Provider
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6 Malta
5 Bulgaria
4 Panama
4 Kyrgyzstan
4 Croatia
4 Costa Rica
3 Mozambique
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3 Iraq
3 Europe
2 Virgin Islands
2 Tunisia
2 Tajikistan
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1 Zambia
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1 Indonesia
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1 Guam
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1 Algeria
1 Cuba

wow

I have looked in my Track Back as to where my blog is being accessed and found links to MANY MANY Russian and Georgian online newspapers and forums and they are ALL talking about my Georgia blog and they have ALL twisted my words and quote conveniently around to their advantage. Same story but Russia twists it around to make Georgia look bad, and vice versa. I was also told by a girlfriend on Facebook who lives in Belgium but also has a flat in Georgia that many papers in Georgia have reported about my blog. ALL trying to start shit. This is so fucking pathetic. They have no permission to use my photographs and shame on them for twisting my words around and even misquoting the President making him sound evil. Get a fucking life people, seriously. It proves one thing for sure, the media is the same all over the world- full of liars, fabricated stories and SHIT.

Greetings from Georgia, former Soviet Union

 http://www.facebook.com/drdotislovinlife

I am here for a week massaging my favorite client on earth (sorry Simon Cowell, you’ve been bumped down a notch from my #1 spot for now), President of Georgia, Mikheil Saakaashvili, who invited me to his interesting country.

Happily married, father of two, busy running the country and yet he finds time for a massage or two. He has been taking excellent care of me, I feel really safe and have everything I could possibly need. He LOVES Americans and says my massage is the best he has ever had (massaged him for the first time if you remember that blog, last summer, right before Russia and Georgia fought).


 Naturally after such a nasty war, he needs more massages on the shoulders that Russia keeps trying to sit on (please read this with sense of humor, lighten up folks).

Mr. President is so intelligent, sharp witted, generous,  friendly and fun, he is always smiling and making sure everyone has enough to eat and drink. Fighting hard here to keep my trim figure, but the first thing he says when he sees me is “are you hungry?” and then proceeds to order massive amounts of food. Ha ha. I read that in Georgia, they believe guests/visitors are a “gift from god” and they LOVE to feed their visitors.

I will blog more later and as TONS more pictures as it is sunny and warm out today and I want to get the hell out of my hotel room. He has also been a VERY good influence on me, I have been getting up at 9am every day and going to bed at midnight. So I am now (well, for NOW) a day person. Lets see how long it lasts.

 

 Pic taken on the plane ^ you know when you fly you can see where the hell you are going? I couldn’t help but get nervous when I was watching that screen seeing names of places I have never heard of or can even pronounce. But I felt safe, a plane full of heavily armed body guards, the emphasis on the word HEAVILY. JEEEEZE!!!  Laughing

 

When we landed, the body guards took me here. Since we can’t communicate, I had NO idea where we were going or why. I dragged my lap top with me as I had no idea, turns out they just wanted to show me around, to the “Black Sea” which looks more brown than Black actually.

The Black Sea in Batumi ^

 

 The pres was nice enough to first show me his beach estate in Tabuli, then the next day we flew to Tbilisi. This ^ is a view from my room here in Tbilisi. There are hardly ANY  cross walks here, so people and animals are always bookin’ it across the streets and from my hotel room view, it looks like that video game Frogger.

Secret Service Coffee anyone? Laughing


Entrance to my hotel. Looks peaceful but there is construction going on on top, on the side, across the street, it is loud as FOOK. But I am sure my room has the best view of Tbilisi. 

They were supposed to have a great fitness room, but when I asked to see it, they cringed. They brought me there and it was an old beat up tread mill, looked rusty and had some cow webs it on, a sad set of free weights and a super old fashioned exercise bike. I was like, um, never mind. The toilet in the fitness room made me laugh. I have not seen one of these since I was in Italy. Make sure you aim correctly ladies or your shoes will have piss all over them. 

View from my room at night – looks GORGEOUS.

 

 

 The President has SO MANY body guards, he has many to spare. He had them watching over me every day and I felt SO safe and secure. They are all so punctual, efficient, professional and dependable, it is amazing. Like a well oiled machine. The picture above is me and “Zoro #1”. He is a Major in the Military, not just a bodyguard. Super nice guy too. SUPER proud of his wife and kids (showing each other pictures while waiting for dinner was a great way to pass the time, as talking was rather difficult. His English is WAY better than my Georgian (can’t speak a word of it yet). 

My favorite place to eat turned out to be a place called “The Old House” or something along those lines. This massive house had many tiny little houses where you would go into with your tiny group to eat. The waiters would come in to each little house to wait on the guest. Very private, cozy and warm. I had the guards bring me there a few times as the Greek salad and chicken were the healthiest things I could find anywhere to eat. Nice and lean. 

Zoro # 1 told me that the blue jacket that was hanging on the walls of the Old House was a traditional old fashioned Georgia attire called a Chokha . So I posed in it. Could NOT for the life of me get it to close around the chest area, but you get the idea. Not sure if those things in the chest pockets were supposed to be bullets or magic markers though. 

 

People were on the side of the street, everywhere, selling something. This boy sold me and the body guards (who baby sit me every day, all day, when the massage is over). There are also free roaming COWS, dogs, sheep and goats walking everywhere, on the side of roads, highways, etc, it is so bizarre. The dogs and cats are all free agents. They live off of trash and the dogs chase the cars, it’s mad. 

Another thing that FREAKED me out about this place was the MAD driving. I am not exaggerating here folks, I thought I was going to DIE pretty much every day I got in a car. My drivers were the best, highly trained BUT it is tradition there to pass other cars, apparently without any FEAR. There were always two lanes, one going one way, one going the other way. We would pass like 20 cars and in the lane coming towards us were other cars, trucks buses etc, and I would FREAK OUT screaming for my life as there was no where to go and I was counting on a head on collision, but somehow it works out. The all beep and honk and then the row of cars lets the passing car back into line to avoid head on collision. I am sure I got a few gray hairs there just from the driving in cars experiences. No need for amusement parks there, just take a fucking drive, you will get your fill of adrenaline. WOW!! I used to think Rome and Boston were the craziest places to drive, with Guatemala as the runner up, but Georgia takes the prize now for wild drivers. lol. It took me like 5 days to get used to the driving, to trust my drivers. By the end of my stay, I was totally relaxed and having fun when they drove. It is just a culture shock if you are not used to it. 

The Pres is so fucking sweet, he makes the body guards take me everywhere and show me shit. Too bad I realized I can use Bable Fish translator on my Crackberry a bit too late, I wanted to tell them I (1) HATE driving anywhere in a car (2) Hate churches and religion all together (3) If we can’t walk there, I don’t wanna go. But alas, we drove like an hour to the country side to see this OLD church, it is from the 1st century. OMFG. I was wearing my flaming RED pants, so eyebrows were raised when I was in the churches we saw. Pffffft!

Taking pictures inside the churches, whilst wearing flaming red pants will surely send you to hell in a hand basket. 

Was super cold inside the churches, everyone was doing those hail Mary gestures and some were crying. There were many little old ladies dressed in black REALLY trying to get money out of us for a little guided tour (unofficial tour) of the churches. They were brutal, like following us and wanting cash NOW. Thing is, I don’t care enough about it to want a tour and they can’t speak English or German and I can’t understand or speak Georgian, so what is the point?

Left ^ Zoro #1 trying to let the ladies in black down gently “no, we are not buying anymore God today, thanks” ha ha. He would never say that. I’m just playin.

 

This was inside one of the churches. I assume is says “Please do not come into our houses of the holy wearing slutty red pants or mini skirts, you skanks” and or “don’t take any pictures (unless you donate some cash, betch”). Don’t mind me, I am over tired and enjoy pushing the envelope when I am cranky/exhausted. 

Behind the 1st century church, see that tree with all the rags tied to each branch? Zoro #1 told me it’s a “witch tree”. Not sure what he meant, but I saw many of those around. Wondering if that is where the term “on the rag” came from, as in “she’s such a witch when she’s on the rag”. 

A view from the old church ^

What I hated was there was lots of Monk like dudes up there all trying to get money out of us. Hey, selling God anyone? I have to quote my hero Mr. Zappa once again “Tax the churches!!!”  No one has any fucking money in this country because they are so busy going to church all day, every day, they can’t/won’t/don’t have time to work and earn anything. They are WHIPPED. Religion rules here. Still. 

It finally dawned on me how to communicate with the drivers/body guards with the internet translator on my crackberry and I told them I fucking hate churches, religion and basically just want to go for a jog and write my sex column back at my room and they were laughing their asses off. I mean, they were just doing their job and the pres was just being sweet wanting me to see everything, but as I said, if I can’t walk there, I don’t want to go. Planes, Trains, automobiles are no fun for me, I feel trapped like, like I am in jail. Restrained. UGH. 

Outside the churches were locals pushing their handmade gear onto tourist and believe it or not, THIS ^ is a traditional Georgian style hat. I felt like a sesame street character/Muppet in this thing. It was warm as fuck, but I already stand out in my flaming red pants, so I had to pass on this one. 

As we drove to get me some blank CD’s so I could burn the pres and the drivers some more music (HATE the music on the radio in the car here) I got to thinking that Tbilisi looks like Rome, but then I realized, this place is MUCH older than Rome. Those Roman copy cats.  As I write this, I hear massive dog barking going on, as usual, I walk to balcony and look down, and as usual, the dogs are chasing the cars. wtf?

If you read my Rome blog (still not done with that one yet either) you would see what I mean, about how the places look similar. The people here are miles (erm, kilometers) friendlier than the snotty cunts in Rome. That place has turned into the most unfriendly place I have ever been. Lighten up people, perhaps cut down on the espresso and sugar and relax. Tourist are a good thing, they bring money.  The first time I went to Rome in 1991, the folks were much friendlier, I wonder what happened. Perhaps the economy made them bitter, but again, you would think they would be even nicer to tourist, not bitchier. 

I will ad more pics and text as soon as I can, I need to get out and stretch my stems. 

 —————————————————————————–

Next day..

 

Went out to dinner again with the President and his posse in such a great restaurant. It is so COOL how all of his guards scope out the place first and I mean miles before the place you can see cops and guards everywhere. SUPER tight security. I thought the Rolling Stones were VIP and all until I met and hung with Mr. President. It was so exciting to see all of this. I can not stress how efficient and tight they all are. You can tell how loyal these men are to him, it is amazing. I loved hanging with the guards, I always had a couple tall, built, handsome, armed men  around me who always open the doors for me and pay for everything! It’s like having a few WONDERFUL boyfriends around you at all times. lol. 

 After dinner I had the guards drive me to a karaoke bar (forget the name of the place off the top of my head) but these flags hanging were not far from the karaoke joint. 

 Tbilisi even has a Beatles Cafe/Bar. I walked in and it smelt like Grandma’s moldy old cellar and it was empty as FUCK. The stench alone made me run out of there. They mean well, but “ooooh whooo that smell, can’t you smell that smell?”

 

 This is Zoro #2 (different body guards all the time, I can’t even COUNT how many I met so far). Zoro #2 as you can see, is fit as fuck and easy on the eyes. Walking into places with them is hilarious. They scope the place out and NO ONE gets in their way. The karoake bar was the smokiest place I’ve ever been too (no smoking ban gonna happen there for another 20 years I am guessing. 

The karaoke DJ was a microphone WHORE and would NOT stop singing or talking. No matter who sang, he was there singing right next to the singer, most of the time singing LOUDER than the singer and while the singer gave it their all, the DJ would just start talking into the mic, announcing their name, the name of the song, etc, DURING their song. If he did that in NYC he would get a fist in the face for sure. 

 They had NO JAMES BROWN anywhere on their song list/book. UGH, how can you forget James Brown?? They had Bad Company and loads of random USA/UK hits, but the God Father of Soul? no dice. I sang Ike and Tina’s Proud Mary and brought the house down. Zoro #2’s jaw hit the floor. Super funny. We only stayed a little while as our eyes were burning out of our heads. 

  Zoro #2 asked for some pics of us together, not sure how to get them to him as they are all so KGB, erm, you know what I mean, no numbers or email addresses, etc.. I burnt them onto a dvd and gave it to  a driver to pass onto Zoro 1 & 2. I burnt them SO MAN cd’s of blues, rock, funk, punk and some rap/hip hop too, as I could not stand the crap on the radio on the cars. UGH. They were LOVING the mixes I made. 

 I am guessing this is the tidiest street/passage way in the city. Simply gorgeous. 

Two of the funnies things the Pres said to me was that Ray Charles came to Tbilisi a few years ago, before he died and WHOEVER it was in charge of such things too him SIGHT SEEING. Guess they missed that memo that he can’t fucking see. After the tour Ray said his favorite part of his visit, was in fact, the sight seeing. He probably found it really hilarious. 

Last night before I went to bed, I heard MASSIVE shooting like noises, SUPER LOUD, I wasn’t sure if it was fireworks or another attack from Mr. Putin and his posse. I was really frightened. I mentioned that to the Pres today during his massage and he made yet another wise crack saying that’s why they were unprepared when Russia attacked last summer, as they all thought it was merely fireworks too. Ha ha. He CRACKS me up!!!

 

 

One of the many cool shops in Tbilisi ^

The videos I made to go along wtih this trip can be seen here:

PART ZERO (the prequel)

Part 1  

Part 2

From a reader:

“Dear Doctor Dot,

I was chatting with my big brother today and asked him about Georgia and his main points about Tbilisi are:

The locals whilst very friendly have a complete lack of empathy or regard for fellow humankind.
For example – when someone got run over by a car, a policeman merely stood next to the dead victim whose entrails were all over the place and waited for the ambulance to arrive, whilst passers by, including children, strolled by barely glancing over, as though it’s an everyday occurrance.
No attempt to cover the body or cordon off the area.

Nothing worked, such as lifts etc., and his main gripe was the pollution in the air, which he is convinced has affected his health.

He also thought the food was terrible, but this was 5-6 years ago so it might have improved.
He lived there for about 6 months at the Sheraton Metachi Palace which he said was fine.
He recommends a German informal restaurant called “Rainers” but there are probably lots of others to choose from nowadays.

One of my German colleagues was visiting me the other day (I’ve been off work since an accident last Xmas, but that’s another story) and she said that every single person she knows from our company that has stayed in Georgia for more than a few weeks has suffered subsequent health problems…
Coincidence or what?

Frank”

The New York Times even commented on this blog: http://thelede.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/04/08/a-president-his-masseuse-and-her-blog/

 

 

 

 

Dr. Dot on facebook: www.facebook.com/drdotislovinlife 

“I’ve got nasty habits”

I shouldn't write a blog right now, it's almost 8 am and I am STILL up working. I finally figured out why the president of Georgia hasn't called about his massage (Georgia is at war with Russia). He called and said "Sorry Dr. Dot, I do want a massage, but I have too many asses to kick at the moment". Just kidding. Laughing

I am still fuming mad about Lisa betraying me. Fucking lying bitch! Now I start to think maybe that client DIDN'T run out on her, maybe he paid her and she made up that stupid lie just to keep the 20%. I don't trust her one bit now. She is fired and will be paying a massive fine. She is still trying to bullshit her way out of this saying she knew the band before. BULLSHIT. I sent her to massage them and she emailed me back saying she "has always wanted to meet them". In her paypal note she wrote "one of the guitarist wanted to bring me on tour, isn't that sweet?". BITCH. Rot it hell you lying cunt. I Hope Def Leppard does the right thing, but you would be surprised how far a cute face goes. She will probably cry, lie and beg her way back into Vivian's house and massage him again. Oh well, at least people can't say I tried to warn them. 

 I had a 3 hour massage last night from Sabrina and two hours of acupuncture tonight from another lady. Thing is, I always feel that I eat and behave so healthy, but in reality I have been making big mistakes. I found out the protein shakes I make for myself every "morning" when I wake around 4 or 5 pm are bad for me because of the 1 grapefruit, 3 oranges and 1 lemon I squeeze into them. Apparently all of that citrus is hell for my stomach and bladder. Also, the coffee is also doing a number on my bladder and sleep disorder, so I have to quit coffee 🙁 and cut back on the citrus (which I thought was soooo good for me). AND 99% of what I eat is raw/cold. I eat fruit, salad, shakes, cold beans in my salad, avacado mashed onto whole wheat bread, I mean doesn't that sound healthy to you? I have been told by so many people I have to eat warm meals. So I am doing a whole change now, not gonna like it, but something has to happen as I am a nervous wreck (oh, and the stress has got to slow down, but how?).

The massage biz just keeps growing and growing and not being able to trust people sucks ass. Shitten' kittens. This is nothing new to me. My mom fucked one of my boyfriends when I was younger, my best friend stole my passport to get into a 18 and over Santana concert in NH (Wendy you bitch) and then SHE fucked my boyfriend after. Then another best friend fucked yet another boyfriend. Needless to say, I don't introduce many girlfriends when I am dating a man. Then the employees who fuck me over. May they rot in hell. 

 Hard to be sweet and easy going with all of that shit going on. Sometimes I think "fuck it" and just visualize me selling everything I own and moving into trailer park in Florida to play cards all day with old folks. But that vision quickly fades when I think of all the fun I have making sure touring musicians get a kick ass massage, each stop of their tour. (touring is HELL on the body). So I just plow on. Some have said "business is business Dot" but I thought people who study massage were different. I thought they had a heart. I thought they cared about people and had more integrity then say, a stock broker or lawyer. Guess not. This isn't the first betrayal, but it is the biggest. And then there was the friend I let use  my PC, who installed the KGB key logger and then read my emails and myspace messages for over two months before SHOWING me screen shots of all of my emails. "Down on me, yeah, down on me, feels like everybody in this whole wide world yea, is down on me" Janis Joplin.

 

I do LOVE life and LOVE people so much, so I will just have to try and trust again and keep on smiling. Lots to do and I guess having too much to do is better that having NOTHING to do. I really can NOT imagine being bored. I am never bored. Not even when I am sleeping. 

I went jogging Sunday eve and saw a bunch of rabbits, looking at me. Then I went jogging again on Wednesday, same area and saw two red foxes in the SAME EXACT spot as the rabbits had been, also staring at me. The wild life is NOT afraid of humans here. I bet the rabbits are fucking scare of those foxes though. I had to laugh when I saw the foxes, thinking of the smart ass rabbits just days before. I would much rather be the fox than the rabbit I tell ya.

Berlin weather is so crazy. One day (day, ha ha, that's funny) I mean, one afternoon, it's hot and humid, next eve it's cold, all the leaves are on the ground like it's fall and it's windy with rain. Like a fucking premenstrual wench. Oh yeah, the Doctors and acupuncturists also tell me taking the birth control pill is also bad. Omfg. How is it that I know some folks who eat french fries, steak, drink beer, smoke copius amounts of ganga and tons of coffee still sleep like a rock and seem fine and here's me, Ms. one glass of wine a week, one cup of coffee per day, salad til it comes out my fucking ears and I am a nervous wreck/stress ball? Could it be they are just punching a clock and get to "leave work behind" when they get home? My work never, ever ends. Go out to eat with me and I am looking at my blackberry 25% of the time. Have to! If I miss an email from Joel from GOod Charlotte, wanting a massage, he may call another massage company, ditto for any other celeb client of mine (and not just celeb clients, any client). 

I am going to bed, as I am starting to get cranky and the construction workers are already here, outside my window banging shit around. Men and their toys.

oh, but first:

 While searching for Lisa's contract to nail her balls to the wall, I came across this PROM picture of mine. Guess which hussy is me? ha ha. How embarrassing!! Rockville High School, Ct. My date was Billy Connelly (spelling?) who was a LOT like Huckleberry Finn. He normally wore jean overalls, no shirt, no shoes, bandanna on his head, smile on his face.  I absolutely LOATHED our prom song "one more night" by Phil Collins. Bite me. I wanted Joey Ramone (whom I was dating at the time to come with me, but he was touring. BUT he made it up to me by playing a show in Ellington for most of my school 🙂

Why didn't anyone take me aside and explain how tacky bleached blond hair actually is? My Mom started that. She put highlights in my hair when I was in the 7th grade. That is too young for that crap. She was just experimenting on me like a lab rat and from then on, my hair was fucked with. I am so glad I let it natural now. Not to sound even more queer than I already am, but I want to quote Cher "if I could turn back time" ha ha. 

DELIRIOUS at this point from lack of sleep. Why even bother going to bed? I should stay up and try to be a good Homosapien and follow the Suns rules.Oh, Rockville High is having a massive Class Reunion in September. Should be fun. See how many people still hate my guts. heh heh. They all know me as Dot Jagger. When I graduated, the principal even called my name out as "Dot Jagger". SO into the Stones at that point. OVER THAT!! Beatles RULE! Dot McCartney sounds way better anyways. I only went to Rockville High for two years, 11th and 12th grade, so the RHS kids didn't exactly welcome this blonde, mini skirt wearing blond rock chick with open arms. But I was used to being the "new girl" in school. Before that I was in Virginia Beach, Virginia at Bayside High and Bayside Junior High (only for the 9th and 10th grade). Before THAT I was in Newport, Rhode Island for some of the 6th and 8th grade and for my 7th grade I went to Thompson Junior High in Dover, New Hampshire, then back to Newport, oh God, don't get me going, in 12 years of school, I was in 15 different schools (still have the report cards here to prove it). Went to school in Memphis, Tenn.  for the 5th grade (going backwards here).

I am so fucking tired of moving and traveling, I could scream. I really envy the people who have lived a stable life, with a stable family, in the same town their whole life, with  a nice house and many pets. What's it like? Maybe in my next life, eh? But I supposed what you have lived through, makes you what you are, so I am fine with all that. The grass is always greener I guess. I am so happy Jasmine has lived her whole life so far in Berlin. I gave her stability (and so did her dad). That is what parents are supposed to do. You are supposed to show your child a life better than the one you had. Mission accomplished 🙂

 

I got nasty habits, I take tea at three
Yes, and the meat I eat for dinner
Must be hung up for a week
My best friend, he shoots water rats
And feeds them to his geese
Don'cha think there's a place for you
In between the sheets?

Come on now, honey
We can build a home for three
Come on now, honey
Don't you wanna live with me?

And there's a score of harebrained children
They're all locked in the nursery
They got earphone heads they got dirty necks
They're so 20th century
Well they queue up for the bathroom
'Round about 7:35
Don'cha think we need a woman's touch to make it come alive?

You'd look good pram pushing
Down the high street
Come on now, honey
Don't you wanna live with me?

Whoa, the servants they're so helpful, dear
The cook she is a whore
Yes, the butler has a place for her
Behind the pantry door
The maid, she's French, she's got no sense
She's wild for Crazy Horse
And when she strips, the chauffeur flips
The footman's eyes get crossed

Don'cha think there's a place for us
Right across the street
Don'cha think there's a place for you,
In between the sheets?

 Rolling Stones

He loved it

Berlin is bursting with anticipation today. You can almost hear the people holding their breath whilst awaiting the big football match tomorrow. I will certainly be watching the show, but not on fan-mile, as it's too crowded and unpredictable, as in, you don't know if you're going to get smashed in the face or not.

Thursday MORNING my phone rang at 10 am. Normally I don't hear it as I turn it on silent, but because the night before was a bit wild (that was the night Germany beat Turkey and the wild Exberliner party night) and even though I ONLY drink two glasses of wine when I go out (any more and I end up blowing chunks) I still felt tired as fuck due to all the cig smoke in the air at Kaffee Burger. ANYWAYS, when I come home from a night out, I stay up even later than normal, catching up on the 300+ emails I receive whilst out.

So I had only been sleeping two hours, and they weren't even a good two hours as the construction workers seemed to be tearing down every building within a mile radius of my flat, the concierge of the Adlon hotel called and said the President of Georgia wanted another massage from me RIGHT NOW before his flight at noon. Um, sorry, can't do it.

I am not lazy by no means, but it's easier for me to do a massage at 4 am than at 10 am. 4 am is NO problem, I am still wide awake, full of energy, but 10 am for me is like 3 am for most normal people, who sleep from 10 pm to 6 am. I had to decline and the Pres will either be (1) angry and never talk to me again or (2) take that as a challenge and REALLY invite me to Georgia as he promised to finally get round two of "the best massage" he has ever had in his life. We shall see.  I think this was the first time I said "no" to a hotel here in Berlin, but after two hours of extremely interrupted sleep, the massage would have been half-assed anyways and I would rather to NO massage than a shitty massage.


 
 

Irish gals out on the piss ^  

Was out last night for a bit of karaoke at Oscar Wilde again. Can you believe the two dark haired girls at the top of this ^ picture are 17 years old (left side) and 15 years old (right side)? Well, I also didn't look 15 when I was 15, but it's funny seeing 15 year olds drink beer, as you know in Yank land you have to be 21 to even get into a bar. Berlin is so liberal. I sang 'River Deep Mountain High',  'Stay with me' < Rod Stewart, and 'D'yer Maker' < Led Zepp..  I love to sing but HATE being around drunk people who keep repeating themselves over and over again and there is one guy that is there every time I go there who SWEARS to GOD he is Smokey Robinson. Everyone believes him too- except me.

 

I'm like, fuck right off, if you were Smokey (didn't he die?) then why the fuck are you singing the same two songs every time karaoke is on? He sings "simply the best" by Tina Turner and "kiss" by Prince. Again, I love to sing, but karaoke is a freak magnet. Not sure how much more of it I will take. Ugh. Thing is, I don't like to just go out and drink as I don't drink much, so I have to have something to do, as in table soccer or karaoke, or I get bored. Hanging around in a bar just doesn't appeal to me. Watching a football match is good fun though but still, drunks irk me to no end.

 

Tough for me as I LOVE Rock and Roll but most of the guys who LOVE rock and roll are into drugs, drinking, lying around doing nothing. I love rock and roll, but work out, eat healthy as fuck and don't smoke and barely drink and I am as ambitious as Donald Trump (not as rich, just as ambitious) ha! Boo fucking hoo, I don't fit in. ha ha. Gotta run, it's gorgeous out

A different Georiga on my mind part 1 (part 2 found here: http://drdot.blog-city.com/greetings_from_georgia_former_soviet_union.htm )

Berlin is treating me WELL these days. Saturday night I massaged Ronald Steven Lauder the youngest son of Estee Lauder.For some reason I thought the family was French and was surprise to find out he is from Brooklyn. Ha! Super funny guy who LIVES for massage. He is currently building a massage room in his house. He told me my massage was the best one he has ever had, so maybe I will be massaging he and his wife in that massage room when I get my arse back to NYC. 

TONIGHT was even better. I massaged the best looking President on earth, Mikheil Saakashvili . < click to read more about him)..He is the President of Georgia and super fun to talk to. He originally wanted only a 30 minute massage but 90 minutes later, he told me my massage is "the best massage I have had in my life so far". Mikheil had body gaurds outside the massage room the whole time, who were all over 6 feet tall and like 4 feet wide. One spoke English really well and told me his favorite group is Metallica. Ha. He said "I am a rocker!" so we got along fine, whilst waiting for the President to finish his work out. I was excited to finally get to massage a President. I have massaged the Prince of Saudi Arabia before and a few Mayors, but this was the first President for me. 

During the massage 'Mr. President' was very witty. I was massaging his massive neck and told him "wow! Your neck is so tense!" and he answered "no kidding, I have RUSSIA sitting on it!". We both laughed so hard. I was feeling comfortable and asked him if he had ever been to Georgia, as in, Atlanta Georgia and he laughed and said of course. Then I took it even further and asked him if he's ever heard "Georgia on my mind" from Ray Charles. I was laughing while I asked him and said "these are just stupid questions reporters aren't allowed to ask you" ha!!  I told him my family lives in Georgia (they are from New England but migrated South to Atlanta, k?). He said I should come to visit the COUNTRY Georgia, and I said I was too scare, I mean, I can't even point it out on the fucking map. He assured me if I came, his security would look after me. SOOOO I may be going to Georgia this summer. He swears they LOVE Americans there. I told him that is probably the ONLY place on earth that "loves Americans".He said he studied at Columbia University in NYC and lived in Washington DC, which he said are his favorite two places in the US. 

 Even his body gaurd's faces lit up when I told them I am American. The Pres and I were cracking jokes about how serious Germans are. LMFAO!! He said "We Georgians are the complete opposites of Germans" ha!! Now I can't wait to go and discover this mysterious country that has only 5 million people in it, yet has their own Playboy magazine (you know, Playboy UK, Playboy Germany, Playboy GEORGIA!". He told me that. We talked about that because I had just told him I write for Penthouse Forum and gave him a copy (the copy which has yours truly on the cover). He asked me a lot of questions to, about where I learned massage, about my family and life. I try to avoid talking during a massage but if someone is chatty, we chat. Sometimes we were silent, as when I massage, it's hard work and it's hard to talk and massage deep tissue at the same time, I start breathing hard and I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea. heh heh.

After the massage, he was in a super good mood and even posed with me. I didn't even BOTHER bringing my good Sony camera as I thought, nah, he would never pose with a rock and roll massage therapist. BUT he did, so my blackberry camera had to do:

NOTE: PART 2 OF THIS CAN BE FOUND HERE: http://drdot.blog-city.com/greetings_from_georgia_former_soviet_union.htm

I told him I massage a lot of rock stars and he asked which ones, I told him a few names, Kiss, Sting, The Stones… and he said "I feel honored now!" ha ha! He is so fucking cool! Genuinely friendly, not diplomatically friendly, know what I mean? He had his body gaurds send down to bottles of Georgian wine "Mukuzani, Special Reserve, aged in French barrels for 20 months" and 100 euro tip. What a man!!!!!!!!  He now has a new fan.

Oh, by the way, when I arrived to massage the President at his hotel, there was a BIG FUCKING FUSS;  LOADS of security outside and no one was allowed in a that moment because Ms. Rice (Condoleezza Rice, National Security Advisor) was about to enter the same hotel. I told the cops, "the freaking president of Georgia is waiting for a massage, let me in!" ha ha. They didn't believe me at first, but after a walkie talkie check, I was escorted in. This hotel is happenin' at the moment. Not allowed to say which hotel right now…. I am behaving. 

x

Picture update (Georgia, NYC and Berlin)

I have so many pictures from the last few months that I have to cram them all into one fat blog. I have so much going on that finding peace and quiet to blog has become harder and harder. I suppose that's a good thing, when one becomes too busy to sit and write, but if I don't write I feel constipated. My goal this year is t rewrite my book all over again as it's like a patch work quilt right now, in pieces that need to be sewn together. It's overwhelming to me, all the things I have in line to do and yet all I can think about is how Jasmine is doing traveling around Europe. I'm going to just comment on each picture, and hopefully it will end up as some sort of chronological story of the last few months of my life. Well, at least a tiny version of it 😉

Melissa and I down in Douglasville Georgia ^

"Mel" as everyone calls her and I get along like two peas in a pod. She is my cousin. My Dad, who adopted me at age one, Chester, has two sisters, Nancy and Caron and although we don't share the same blood, they have been my Aunts as far back as I can remember. Caron has two kids, JC and Melissa. Mel is a little fire cracker and I can see a lot of myself in her even though we are not blood related. She has a wild heart and is very passionate about life. She is a clever little cutie who will hopefully go really far and not take any shit from anyone. LOVE YOU MEL!

;It's amazing all the things you see in the suburbs^

 

My Dad and Mom separated when I was 11 and he then married a woman named Allyson when I was 14. Allyson, my step-mom, had it hard when she joined our family as I was only 4 years younger than her and she had to take on 3 rowdy kids when she married my Dad. Me, my 7 year younger sister, Michele and 9 year younger brother, Chester (Chet the 4th). Then a year later, they had their own child, Zack. Zack is my step brother and we have always gotten along. Zack recently had his own child, above, also named Zack ^

I call him mini-zack. He is a cutie and gets spoiled rotten as you can imagine. He is like a photo-copy of his father. They look exactly alike. 

 The guy with the sun glasses is my brother Chester. We shared the same Mom but different Dad's (I never met my biological father, an Italian Stallion who was too cool to stick around). Chet married Dana, the woman in the picture with him, and they have a child together (not pictured here) named Chester the 5th! The little girl in the picture is Dana's daughter she had with another man (long story). 

Dana is cool as fuck. I wish I had a picture of Chet the 5th, but for some reason I didn't take that many pictures down there, I was just chillin' like Bob Dylan. Plus, I am always unsure about posting pics and info about relatives on the net as some like it, some hate it etc.. So I feel restricted.  

 

 

   

That is Marcel ^, my sister Michele's second son. He is a very serious child, don't remember seeing him smile much but he was pretty much glued to Jasmine's lap the whole time. He loved his cousin Jasmine. Michele has an older son, Danielle, who hangs out non-stop with Chet the 5th, that's probably why I haven't any pics of them, they run around like wild fire the whole time. The only time I saw them hold still was when I hooked up the karaoke machine. They loved it and it was pretty difficult to get the microphones out of their hands. They sang Bon Jovi, the Beatles, Led Zepp, etc.. AND Pat Benetar too. HILARIOUS!

 

The other pic is of Melissa and Mini-Zack. The family is tight down there. I wish I could stand living there, but I can't. I tried for a few months when I graduated high school, in between Grateful Dead tours and I went Banana's. Not enough Rock and Roll down South. UGH! Also, they are far behind in many things, like no one recycles there (unless you live in DOWN TOWN Atlanta). No one cares about eating healthy. I was cooking some tofu and the family was looking at me like I had two heads. The kids had never seen or heard of it before. They all smoke cigarettes, no one recycles or exercises  or like I said, cares about healthy eating. I prefer the NYC pace, where everyone works out, eats healthy and recycles. I need that.

It's not like my family refuses to recycle, it's just not an option in the suburbs in Georgia (and probably most of the states in the USA unless you are in a major city). What the fuck is taking so long people? RECYCLE please. Gotta take care of this planet dammit. 

 

 The whole family down in Georgia posed on Christmas for a group picture, all wearing these fake teeth I have in my mouth above. The picture is hilarious but it's a private thing, so just imagine a massive group of people, young and old, all smiling with these teeth in their mouth. They are a humorous bunch; love to have a good time, that is for sure.

 The green Jets hat above was given to me in 1988 by Frank Zappa backstage in Long Island. I am sure someone gave it to him, he wore it a while, then just gave it to me. I had it in my closet in Georgia for years then I finally gave it to my aunt Caron as I really hate hanging onto things. She gave it to her husband (who is now her ex) Jim. Jim is still very close to the family and is there all the time. Jim is Melissa's father (and JC's too). Jim brought the dam hat over to my Dad's for a photo-shoot. Hence the above pics. The hat is alive and well. Thanks Jim 😉

 

  < Jim, with "the" hat.

This picture is from 2000, taken backstage at an Eminem show in Hartford, CT. What the hell is it doing here you say? The girl in the middle is my sister, Michele. As I said, she is 7 years younger than I am and we shared the same Mom (Mom died in 1998 ) . She and Chet the 4th are from my Dad, who raised me and my Mom. Freakin' complicated I know. Anyways, I don't have many pics of Michele and didn't even get a new one of her during my last trip to Georgia, so I am posting this one. I was on part of that Eminem tour, doing massages and when he played in Hartford, my sister begged me to bring her backstage. Em and co were so nice to me and allowed it. She only got to meet Em for like 60 seconds, but this is the pic from that dream moment. Proof, the black dude on the right, was Em's right had man for years. Proof sadly died in 2006 from a gun shot wound. Anyways, my sister was in 7th heaven meeting them. Michele and Chet look like my Mom and I look more like my Italian father (seen pics of him). 

 

Magenta ^ 

Ok, back in NYC, some friends of mine and I went to see the Rocky Horror Picture show at the Chelsea cinema. They act out the film, as the film plays every Friday night. I played Janet when I was in the 9th and 19th grade in Virgina Beach, Virginia. It was a fight with my Dad and Step mom to get out of the house so late each weekend, but I prevailed and had a blast. 

The cast I worked with had a fairy decent looking Frankenfurter, which makes things easier. This NYC cast, however, is apparently not choosy when it comes to casting. I swear to GOD I am not being catty when I tell you their Janet was as useless as a wet paper bag. She was HUGE and not even worth photographing and she showed NO emotion what so ever when delivering her lines, which usually came out much too late. Their Riff-Raff, Columbia and Magenta were out of this world good. Columbia being the best of the whole lot. Their Frankenfurter was in my eyes, too big and too gay. I mean, if you are too gay to even portray Frankenfurter, you need to tone it down a notch. 

I went with my buddy Danny and Jill and some other lesbian fag hag he dragged out who hated me when I wasn't accepting her sexual advances. Sorry, I have been there, but I prefer cock. Plus, she wasn't my type.  

Riff-Raff and Magenta time warping it ^

Columbia was the fucking BOMB ^  LOVED HER!

 

 
   

Columbia again ^ and my English friend, Jill ^ and I. Jill lives half the time in London and the other half in NYC. We get along perfectly. 

 
   

Jill and I enjoy going to LIT on Sunday nights in NYC for some karaoke. They have the BEST fucking sound in NYC. Huge song list too, only thing I don't like (there's always something) is that people are still allowed to smoke there. I guess that's why it's called "LIT". Another annoying part is that tattooed guy above ^  

He is there every time I go there (the MC told me he hasn't missed a Sunday night since 5 years). He is always high, which isn't the problem, thing is, he can't STAND it when someone else, besides him, is on stage. He is extremely LOUD when anyone else sings. He will stand right in front of you and talk to anyone who will listen (or pretend to listen) at the top of his lungs, that is, if he isn't trying to snag the mic out of your hand and sing with you.  He simply can not bear it if all eyes and ears are not on him constantly. I really want to make a documentary about karaoke as each place I have visited (London, Manchester, NYC, Berlin, LA well, all over the place)  always has some sort of weirdos fighting over the mic and stage time. It's so exciting to me to see all of this. It's even funnier than a Ben Stiller flick. 

Remember the movie "Cable Guy" how Jim Carey invited all of his customers to a karaoke party? It's pretty much like that but louder. I love the drama, and of course I love to sing. But this tattooed punk has the worst breath you can imagine. Like compost heap mixed with a side of rotting gums. He is always asking me to get high and I tell him, as I try and run away, "NO THANKS!". Oh man, the pro's and con's of karaoke. You want great sound, you have to put up with HIM and smokers. You seriously can't win. 

Anyways, the picture on the right is of Jill belting out "rock and roll" by Led Zeppelin. Her favorite group is Led Zepp, and I love that.  

   
   

 Oh, another thing about Lit (which is on 2nd ave, lower east side) is that it's ALWAYS filled with colorful strangers. These two chicks were basically parked in front of the stage, making out wildly, I mean, they were the main attraction that night, much to dismay of  the ego-maniac bad breathed punk. 

 
   

 Another friend of mine ^ John was there at Lit, celebrating his birthday. He has the "I hate birthdays" look on his face and who could blame him. The chick on the right simply had a magnificent ass, so I had to snap her pic.

I will probably get my face ripped off when Jasmine sees this picture ^. Not because she is hugging my best friend Jonesy, but because she banned me from posting pics of her. But I can not help myself. I mean, I have a few cute pics of her from Christmas and Georgia and from our night out to see the Beatles cover band The Fab Faux, but this one can't be left on my Mac. I have to share it. Two of my favorite people, both of whom I would stick my hand in fire for, together in one shot. So cute. It's worth the wrath that is sure to come my way. 😉

 

 
   

 MAX, from Berlin, aka Charlie Crawford and the singer of Empty Trash; runner up in German's version of American Idol (Deutschland Sucht ein Super star) came to NYC for a week of fun. No, he didn't stay with me! He is only 19 so get those naughty thoughts out of your mind. Anyways, I showed Max around a bit, as did Jasmine. He is a big star in Germany and can sing his ASS off. I wrote about him already in my Thanksgiving day blog. Click HERE to see it. 

   

 Eric Danville ^, managing Editor, Penthouse Forum/ Girls of Penthouse and friend of mine, was sadly mugged the night we were initially supposed to meet to sign my contract. "It happens" he said. Luckily only his arm was hurt, he could have been killed. Anyways, a week later we met at a bar called "2a" because it's on the corner 2nd street and avenue A. It's a really popular hang out for artist and people in the entertainment biz. The wine is as bad as the service BUT it is still fun. The pics above are of Eric and his boo-boo arm and me signing my contract, with Penthouse Forum. My sex column "Calling Dr. Dot" will premier in the magazine's May issue (it hit's news stands on April 14th though).  I am so happy and grateful, I won't let them down. Hell, I never let the NY Press down either, my columns were always early and entertaining, they are just unorganized and change editors as often as Lindsay Lohan does boyfriends.  Well, you know the saying, one door closes and another one opens. I was sad when the NY Press dropped my column (along with many other columns at the same time) but now I am glad it happened as writing for Penthouse Forum is way better in my eyes. 

The night I met Eric at 2a to sign my contract, the service was great. But when Tom Clark ^ isn't bar tending/working, you can fucking forget it. The other bar tenders are too busy making love to their crack-berries to notice you are drying of thirst. Meow.
Anyways, I was there before Eric. Never been in 2a before. I sat at the bar, alone, asked for a wine list. The bar tender shows me a bottle of white and a bottle of red (pretty sure they had screw on tops) and said, "here is the wine list, red or white?". I thought, what a cheeky bastard this guy is. lol. He gives me my wine and then asks "are you Dr. Dot?" 

My jaw dropped. Eh? "yes, why? How did you know that? Did Eric tell you I was meeting him here?". He says "Eric who?" then explains he recognizes me from myspace. EH? Still puzzled. I was like "wtf?". He then explains that he and I have been pen pals for almost 2 years, writing on myspace, mostly about music and my desire/obsession for Karl Geary.  Karl frequents the 2a fairly often. Tom told me on myspace 2 years ago that he sees Karl rather often "at the bar he works at" and so we started chatting about him and music etc.. anyways, to me, people look different on myspace then they do in person. Especially if you aren't looking for them. I wouldn't have put two and two together in a million years. lol. Anyhow, I felt like a dumb ass that he recognized me but I didn't him until he refreshed my memory. Guess I need to buy a few more mega bites of memory for my head. 

Behind the bar ^ …makes me laugh every time I read it.

I was asked to come to a recording studio in Weehawken, NJ to massage the band Matchbox 20. I know the sound man, Jim, for almost 15 years now. I massaged Jim in trade for him tuning up my JBL equalizer in my car. My Amp and equalizer in my trunk are so HUGE you can't really fit anything else in there. It's FUCKING LOUD and now, the sound is even more perfect than it was. Listening to music in my VW Golf is one of my favorite things to do (while driving through NYC, windows down). Anyways, the piano above ^ used to belong to John Lennon. It now belongs to the recording studio. John recorded the song 'Imagine' on that piano. I felt honored to touch it. sigh.  

 

 

 I went into some rock and roll shop in Greenwich Village and bought a SHIT LOAD of rock and roll t-shirts and all of the guys working there are from Mexico and all had really long hair and were listening to Black Metal, which apparently is "much harder than Death Metal". In fact, they tell me Death metal is just for pussies. Black Metal is the most evil music around. They have it playing really loud and as you shop for rock and roll memorabilia, you think to yourself "mmmm, so if I went to hell and turned on the radio, this is what would be playing". 

 

Back in Berlin I was invited to a VIP party, thrown by several press agencies, news papers etc.. It was fucking boring but the food and drinks were free and in abundance. The above girl band was playing all night. Yawn. I hate VIP parties.  

 

 

This poor bastard is getting married ^. Had to take a pic of this guy on his Stag night in Berlin. Good luck sucker.  

 
 
   

Above ^ Freaky (on the right) and his female companion wearing their lighted baseball hats. I have known Freaky since 1991. He is an artist, jack of all trades and really REALLY fun to watch when he sings karaoke. The words to describe him properly fail me. He calls himself Freaky, so you can just imagine I guess. 

 

Recently my friend "Scruff" was in Berlin and I showed him around. It was sadly gray and raining the whole time he was here but I am sure he enjoyed himself anyways. 

BIZARRE light-billboard directly across from the Estrel Hotel, where the "stars in concert" show is held. Do Berliners think that Beastiality is ok? I mean, if this was on display in Boston, I doubt it would go over well. Weirdos!!
 

I brought  Scruff to see "Stars in Concert" which is a show that has been going on in Berlin for almost 10 years. It's all made up of celebrity impersonators. The man who plays Elvis, Grahm, is from Dublin and is one of the worlds best Elvis impersonators and a buddy of mine. He used to do it in Vegas for years, but wanted a change and moved to Berlin. He invited us and paid for everything. The whole experience was amazing but Elvis was by far the best part of the show (The Blues Brothers were pretty good too). It was funny how "Elvis" came out to our table after his part of the show was over (he was in normal clothing) and still had all of his Elvis make up on, as he had to still do an encore. Elvis buying us drinks. Nice.

  

I fly to France next week, will be there for about 30 hours, then I fly to Rome, stay a few days, then go to Florence. Looking so forward to enjoying Italy again. Ciao Bella