Amsterdan.

I'm in Amsterdam this weekend! Talke and I got us some plane tickets and have come to hang out with her boy toy Mathieu, who I know from ad school. It's to be back in this ADORABLE little city. It's so cute! I swear, watching the outskirts of the city pass us by on the train ride from the airport, it's like a giant plastic train set utopia. It's clean and futuristic with bright shiny colors and freshly paved roads. And as you approach Amsterdam proper, it gets older and more dense, but stays cute. All these brick buildings squooshed up against one another, and you know they've been there for a thousand years (give or take 500). Spend some time around here with your eyes open, and you'll understand Walt's thinking behind Disneyland.

The plane we flew was a Fokker 50, and by plane I mean bus with wings. That shit was small and rickety. How small was it? It was so small, I caught claustrophobia. They have to evenly distribute the fat people. The seat belt sign stayed illuminated because it's impossible to stand up. We got delayed by a stiff breeze. No kidding, that shit was tiny. But the good news is that it got us where we needed to be, and we got two prepackaged sandwiches each on the way. Now that's livin'.

On our way from Centraal station to Mathieu's place, we did a little shopping, and Mathieu uttered these words: Dude, do you want to see something that will blow your mind? It was a rhetorical question of course, so we found our way to a book shop, and went to the section selling planners for school kids. Schools here start up in September as well, so stores are littered with back to school items and such, and there were twenty different styles of planners available. You know the ones - a spot to write in your schedule, lots of room to write down your appointments, finished in bright kid colors for your kid's brightly colored kid lifestyle.

But remember, we're in Amsterdam, where sex is viewed in a slightly more progressive light than, say, all those red states where nobody masturbates. Mathieu handed me this. It's a day planner for kids called Starfucker. And I'm not making this up. It was right next to day planners with cute designs and exotic cars and sporty themes.

Money quotes:

Fuck me, I'm famous.

VIP: Very intens penetration [sic]

I never fake orgasms
only with you

There's a new bitch in town.

Your place or right now.

A few planners over was one featuring a sexy blond woman posing in various positions with a giant sausage. Pardon my American prudishness, but this is insane. Mathieu and Talke back me up on this, and it's not like the French and the Germans are known for their skittishness when it comes to the horizontal mambo. Needless to say, I bought Starfufcker, and I'm sending it to Elizabeth Holt. If she can handle Cockolada, this should be no problemo.