Rembrandt Square, Amsterdam. Lets go guys.
All your postcards are in here then I had to buy more because I forgot some of you. I swear I’m mailing them today. Snail mail is fail mail what get off me that’s why people don’t anymore.
Party going down on the other side of that bridge lots of security cop stand-ins.
Jamie Oliver’s Fifteen.
There’s the party. SIGH. It would have taken a lot of drugs to reach the stamina required for that circus I was already bagged from the road voyage, stopping off at towns along the way. Why would we spend our whole time at a festival when we didn’t go to the one going on back home? I super want to experience one before we go though.
I think my idea for a science fiction bikes come alive at night and wreak havoc on the city movie should be filmed here. Piles of shoddy cgi bikes roving the streets and being ghost ridden down stairs and off canal bridges. I am not letting this idea go.
Of course arty farty shots a blogger’s legacy I so photo right now.
Blurry cos we did two drives through the city before parking the car. It’s a bike city because it’s the highest cost of parking in all of Europe and the clock starts once you ditch that thing.
The outskirts action is the garish bright city lights tourist trap and all the cooler stuff is contained down side streets tucked behind within, kind of french quarter style. But multiples thereof.
Everything gets cheaper the further in you venture cos all the lazy dumb asses stay on the outsides.
I loved him. Stressed out hair guy then there’s ear spacers guy for a close second.
The original apple. JOKES.
Drag queen and a chick in super scary high heels for cobblestones.
At least it wasn’t raining.
Spadina Ave style.
Now without chicks in the way.
Testing out my new legs.
Okay now where.
To the cool stuff. Making our way in.
This looks like a good start.
I encounter many spiral staircases over here. I like them.
Older buildings w/o elevators make for a skinnier nation.
Don’t ask me what this place is called I’m sure you can find it.
Dutch for you can’t sit with us.
People watching here was great, one by one each table was filled with new curiosities of various kind.
Studying this COFFEE ONLY date was, awkward. Bf said she knew we were watching but like you’re in our line of sight we tried not to stare too hard but I quickly figured out exactly what was going on. Her protecting-self body language coffee cup barrier was screaming out loud for all to hear, you guys are dressed up way too nice for coffee in a place like this on a Sunday, the following day being a holiday. Definitely a date. Coffee means I don’t like you and he was well finished his plus another reason they were not a couple was how much smiling was going on while making mundane chit chat, you so do not smile when you you’re talking about bullshit. Do I grin when I tell elaborate and brief accounts of the history of my life and do you smile back when you hear that? Only if you have to if we’re on a fucking date!
Then we got a bit buzzed and stopped being so self conscious about talking like we’re here too okay is that fucking ok with you? Plus in English there’s a chance no one can understand anyway and whispering is a catty tell-tale gossiping give-away, just bounce your crap off the room and stop trying to be so polite to the world all the time no matter how nice you are people are always going to be annoyed, take a little you time and calls it likes ya sees it why not.
Bartender guy was laserbeaming me fine if you’re not going to stop staring then you’re gettin’ captured that’s how these things (cameras) work buddy. He was nbd about it. I like that bar set-up.
Gotta go spread ourselves around. Downstairs and outside for some food. Food btw is one English word I get imitated by, apparently I say it like how Americans think Canadians say a-boot. But how he imitates me is no way how I actually say FOOD so now it’s just a running stupid gag. It’s funny how just saying a word stupidly can be funny. Small things, big minds. Oh and yesterday the sister asked why Americans hate Canadians. Then I explained that for ten minutes.
All the patios have heat lamps under the tents and blankets on offer. We got our table we wanted to switch to cos we were in a cold pocket stolen by German chicks (bitches) and then I compromised and took one of the abandoned blankets from it like fuck you take our table AND the blankets too? No way. Then they gave slit eye glances at us until we left and THEN they felt like assholes when I offered them the blanket and not someone else. Patio politics.
Someone always orders carpaccio.
Soy sauce in gelatin form how bizarre, novel and delicious think it was infused with wasabi too.
Nice place I have the matchbook of it I’ll check out on the web after/never.
Tulips of course.
And naughty city.
Three hundred euro love doll.
The new fives.
So when you screw up drawing a pin-up’s legs just turn her into a mermaid.
Hate to say it but to be continued… POST TITLE CREDIT GOES TO BLAYNE! Big lover of Amsterdam, has been many times and now I have a list of bars to go to for next visit. Solid.