First things first...obviously, I survived Amsterdam. Sucks for you, that just means more pointless rambling and thousands of words you never wanted to read in the first place. But here you are anyway because I have a mesmerizing way of making you come back, time and time again, even though you really don't know why you click the link in the first place. Sucker...
My brief thoughts on Amsterdam:
1. It is fucking expensive. I was there for a little over two days and spent well over two hundred Euros and really have nothing to show for it. Before you ask, no – I did not buy a hooker and I did not buy any pot. As far as you know...
Seriously...ridiculously expensive. I also did not have a single drink bought for me...apparently I'm not the kind of guy gay dudes go for...oh well...
2. The easiest way to describe Amsterdam: think of Vegas on meth, coke, and ecstasy and throw in an alcoholic blackout session and you're getting pretty close. Then add hookers. Yep...that's Amsterdam.
3. Walking around Amsterdam was very confusing for me in many ways.
- First, there are so many fucking canals it makes it nearly impossible to know where you are without a map. Even with a map, it's pretty fucking difficult (as I found out Saturday night/Sunday morning) and as soon as the destination is in sight, it's like a ray of sunshine and rainbows and boners. I can't tell you how happy I was when I finally made it to the hostel on Sunday morning...I nearly wept because I was so happy after being lost for as long as I was.
- Second, that city is a total mind fuck for a man (or, let's face it...boy masquerading as man) because of the sheer amount of prostitutes in the red light district. Walking down a street or an alley is simply mind-boggling because of the nature of the profession. I just couldn't wrap my mind around it. Countless women standing in doorways showing off as much as possible in order to get you to drop your pants and what I can only assume is an obscene amount of money.
Between them knocking on the inside of the glass to get attention, the “come hither” finger curl, and the “fuck me” eyes, my mind could simply not process it. Call me old fashioned, but it takes more than a skimpy outfit, a sexy look and money exchanging hands to get this kid's attention. Okay, not much more...but still – a guy's got his principles. One of those principles just happens to be not paying for sex.
Enough about Amsterdam...I survived in one piece and of relative sound body/mind – just a little light in the wallet. It's vacation...that will happen.
Dammit! I always fucking do this...I totally had something else to write about after I was done with Amsterdam. Oh, got it!
London Riots:
Again, I lost what I wanted to say...I swear it was pointless and redundant, but I guess you'll just have to settle for me randomly rambling again. Basically, the riots aren't near the area I'm in at all and everywhere closed early because there were rumors of the riots coming near Old Street. Which resulted in my gym closing early, which in turn resulted in me being not happy and unfulfilled.
I really don't know what I'm talking about, but for what it's worth, it's really stupid that something like this has spun so out of control. I understand the reason for getting so pissed (for those who don't know, read the news instead of hearing my unsubstantiated claims) but it simply escalated to the point where the police could not handle it. Which made it spin even further out of control. Also, the looters and people setting the fires are complete fucks...we don't live in Columbus, Ohio, people.
Anyway, I'm pretty much done here, so do whatever you want now.
Showing posts with label this is dumb. Show all posts
Showing posts with label this is dumb. Show all posts
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Friday, August 5, 2011
This Might Be My Last Post
Okay, kids...this might be my last post.
Before you get all teary eyed from sheer joy in never having to suffer through my ramblings again, I feel like I should explain. Tomorrow will begin my last trip in Europe as I have less than twenty days left in the UK. Since I have precisely zero days of vacation left and am rapidly running out of the pitiful stipend this company pays on a monthly basis, I simply don't have the time, finances or patience for any more visits to European countries. Therefore, it was decided a few weeks ago that my last trip this year would be to Amsterdam, Netherlands.
The reason this might be my last post ever is because I'm fully expecting to die this weekend. We leave tomorrow morning and are scheduled to return Monday evening, but I'm fully expecting to miss my return flight since I'll be dead. I have heard many stories about Amsterdam, but almost all of them involve painful amounts of alcohol and some other stuff as well. Before we continue, I feel like I should make one thing clear: I am not going to Amsterdam because a certain substance is widely rumored to be legal there. In fact, I have a very negative attitude toward this substance. I have never been interested in it and I don't think it's “cool” to brag about how high you are or have been in the past. This might be a surprise to some, but for those of you who know me, it really shouldn't be since I'm usually quite vocal in my opinion (shocking, I know). The reason I'm going is because I want my last trip to be as fun as possible and this seems like the right city to end on. Not only that, but I feel it would be socially irresponsible of me to be this close in proximity and not make a visit. It just seems...I don't know...it seems like you kinda have to go.
So why am I going to die? I don't really know...I just feel like it's a probability. I have no evidence to support my premonition much like the majority of my feelings and thoughts, but I feel like I have a pretty decent track record of my predictions. Ok, probably alcohol poisoning. Happy? So here we are, mere hours from my death...and I feel like I've given life a pretty decent ride. If it ends here, I'm good with it...I've done a lot and I can't point to anything I would say I regret, so I feel like that's a solid indicator of a good time.
On a side note, I was recently informed this weekend is gay pride weekend in Amsterdam (not that there's anything wrong with that), so that tidbit should make it even more interesting. Much like the majority of men in this world, I have never been in the circumstance where a woman who was interested in sexing me up buy drinks all night in an effort to seal the deal. As we all know, this is the man's job. That being said, I'm not above accepting some free drinks to make up for the hundreds (okay, dozens) of drinks I've bought for women in unsuccessful efforts to make me a tiny bit more attractive (let's be honest here, you can't polish a turd). Let me be clear here: I'm not expecting people to buy me drinks because that would be narcissistic and completely out of character (haha...riiight), but I will accept them without question. Before you get all judgmental, let's explore this for a bit. I can't tell you how many times I've heard this sentence come out of a woman's mouth:
“He's buying me drinks, so of course I'm going to keep talking to him. What? Sleep with him? Haha...don't be silly.”
Yes, I realize how sexist it sounds. No, I don't care. Because it's absolutely accurate. And none of you can dispute it. It's a widely accepted fact that men buy women drinks because they want to get down. If women have a problem with it, stop taking free drinks from strange men. Whoa...when did this get so serious? Ok...think of a dick joke...quick! Shit...I'm all out.
Anyway, due to the dubious amounts of alcohol I'm expecting to consume in the next 72 hours, along with the sheer dumbassery I expect to partake in, I pretty much expect to die. My liver will give out, my kidneys will quit on me, or I might get stabbed in the neck. Either way, I fully expect my clock to expire thus negating the rest of my travel plans and life expectancy. Like I said, it was a fun ride...and I very much appreciate all two of you who shared this experience with me.
By the way, in case anyone asks: Don't waste your money on a funeral or any bullshit like that. Just throw a gigantic kegger and pour one out for your ol' buddy Rufus. Oh, and Justin too...he'd like that. Also, make sure to hire The Used to play the wake...they might need the gig.
Later, fuckers...it's been real.
Before you get all teary eyed from sheer joy in never having to suffer through my ramblings again, I feel like I should explain. Tomorrow will begin my last trip in Europe as I have less than twenty days left in the UK. Since I have precisely zero days of vacation left and am rapidly running out of the pitiful stipend this company pays on a monthly basis, I simply don't have the time, finances or patience for any more visits to European countries. Therefore, it was decided a few weeks ago that my last trip this year would be to Amsterdam, Netherlands.
The reason this might be my last post ever is because I'm fully expecting to die this weekend. We leave tomorrow morning and are scheduled to return Monday evening, but I'm fully expecting to miss my return flight since I'll be dead. I have heard many stories about Amsterdam, but almost all of them involve painful amounts of alcohol and some other stuff as well. Before we continue, I feel like I should make one thing clear: I am not going to Amsterdam because a certain substance is widely rumored to be legal there. In fact, I have a very negative attitude toward this substance. I have never been interested in it and I don't think it's “cool” to brag about how high you are or have been in the past. This might be a surprise to some, but for those of you who know me, it really shouldn't be since I'm usually quite vocal in my opinion (shocking, I know). The reason I'm going is because I want my last trip to be as fun as possible and this seems like the right city to end on. Not only that, but I feel it would be socially irresponsible of me to be this close in proximity and not make a visit. It just seems...I don't know...it seems like you kinda have to go.
So why am I going to die? I don't really know...I just feel like it's a probability. I have no evidence to support my premonition much like the majority of my feelings and thoughts, but I feel like I have a pretty decent track record of my predictions. Ok, probably alcohol poisoning. Happy? So here we are, mere hours from my death...and I feel like I've given life a pretty decent ride. If it ends here, I'm good with it...I've done a lot and I can't point to anything I would say I regret, so I feel like that's a solid indicator of a good time.
On a side note, I was recently informed this weekend is gay pride weekend in Amsterdam (not that there's anything wrong with that), so that tidbit should make it even more interesting. Much like the majority of men in this world, I have never been in the circumstance where a woman who was interested in sexing me up buy drinks all night in an effort to seal the deal. As we all know, this is the man's job. That being said, I'm not above accepting some free drinks to make up for the hundreds (okay, dozens) of drinks I've bought for women in unsuccessful efforts to make me a tiny bit more attractive (let's be honest here, you can't polish a turd). Let me be clear here: I'm not expecting people to buy me drinks because that would be narcissistic and completely out of character (haha...riiight), but I will accept them without question. Before you get all judgmental, let's explore this for a bit. I can't tell you how many times I've heard this sentence come out of a woman's mouth:
“He's buying me drinks, so of course I'm going to keep talking to him. What? Sleep with him? Haha...don't be silly.”
Yes, I realize how sexist it sounds. No, I don't care. Because it's absolutely accurate. And none of you can dispute it. It's a widely accepted fact that men buy women drinks because they want to get down. If women have a problem with it, stop taking free drinks from strange men. Whoa...when did this get so serious? Ok...think of a dick joke...quick! Shit...I'm all out.
Anyway, due to the dubious amounts of alcohol I'm expecting to consume in the next 72 hours, along with the sheer dumbassery I expect to partake in, I pretty much expect to die. My liver will give out, my kidneys will quit on me, or I might get stabbed in the neck. Either way, I fully expect my clock to expire thus negating the rest of my travel plans and life expectancy. Like I said, it was a fun ride...and I very much appreciate all two of you who shared this experience with me.
By the way, in case anyone asks: Don't waste your money on a funeral or any bullshit like that. Just throw a gigantic kegger and pour one out for your ol' buddy Rufus. Oh, and Justin too...he'd like that. Also, make sure to hire The Used to play the wake...they might need the gig.
Later, fuckers...it's been real.
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