IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

The main IFA building kind of looks like BattleStar Galactica. Inside, the whole thing just looks like a B-movie set, making you think that you are in a groovy sci-fi flick from the '70s. Full of teutonic cylons too, obviously conspiring to kill us all. Or sell us useless things. I can go either way with those smiles. Obligatory gallery right after the jump.

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

IFA Galactica-Style Building Is Full of Sexy Cylons, Sweet Smiles

We have to say that every hostess/boothbabe at IFA 2007 booths has been smart and helpful, answering all our questions with completely irresistible smiles and good manners. And no, it's not political correctness. It's the truth. They were absolutely sweet.

And none of them were tacky at all. OK, maybe except for those Russians at the Italian TV booth. But they were very sweet too. Oh, and the five Norsk blondes with the pasties and the g-strings, who insisted on applying baby oil on each other as I placed 10 euro bills between thei—hold on, that wasn't at IFA's floor. Never mind.