Just wondering what type of tree that is outside the Max Hotel window—a monkey puzzle tree perhaps?—when a young man in red scarf and a bobble hat stops to pee in the big pot at the base of it. Under the tree the sign pointing to Yser-Ijzer, where Fifth Avenue can be found; only in the last couple of months did I realise that Yser/Ijzer translates as Iron. Reminding me of my iron-hard erections, no doubt, if I’ve remembered to take the medication. And I’ve indeed taken the medication, 2 days in a row, completely pointlessly, because I never even came close to enjoying intercourse with anyone, not even a woman. I scarcely found the arousal to enjoy intercourse with myself. Yes, my FOURTH trip to Brussels this year (and I’ve been nowhere else) and I still have not enjoyed carnal relations with anyone in those four trips. Four consecutive trips without any jollies may be an unwanted record for me. My finances dampen my mood all the time and make it increasingly difficult for Eros to spark and catch fire. Always the nagging thought, it is time for Hamburg. But also, oh Vienna. Though I did NOTHING on that trip in December either, and couldn’t wait to rush back to Brussels—Vienna to Brussels in one day, and then in Brussels had one of the great Brussels nights of my life with sensational Brazilian Diane. One of the great f—ks of my young life, SHE would bring this holiday to life, that’s for sure.