Amsterdam, Holland

Bikes – check. Weed-related graffiti – check. Colorful row-houses – check. No tulips or windmills. Cannot confirm if this is Amsterdam or not. Insufficient data. Error 404.

Holy shit! It’s Armin Van Buuren in a motorized turntable car. Amsterdam sure is the land of magic. Regrettably, I barely even had a chance to raise my fists to the sky in recognition of the epic trancery bestowed upon me before the righteous convoy had passed. Even more discouraging, as hard as I looked, techno-viking was nowhere to be found. Color me crestfallen. One last optimistic scan for Gavrilo Princip to no avail and I've officially declared this day a wash.

You spelled “brewery” wrong assholes. Besides, real men drink Budweiser. Stop trying to take our freedom, terrorists.

Bread: it’s what’s for dinner.

Sure is nice of you to visit. Would be a shame if I… SNOWED ALL OVER YOU.

Cheese: it’s also what’s for dinner. Remember proper etiquette: wheel, wheel, pass.

Ahh, the sweet, sweet taste of spiced tobacco in a non-descript basement containing all too nearly adjoined doors with uneven handles. Those pin-stripes sure do spruce it up a bit though. Hey, the red even matches the pool table. Wow. This is starting to feel more and more like home.

Rich momentarily forgets where his ears are and covers his neck instead. He then realizes he intended to cover his eyes all along. Oh Rich, when will you learn?

Surprise, surprise, Wei-Ee missed the shot. Let’s see if Chuck can sink it. Boy it’s hard to tell from that angle. We’re gonna have to go under the hood for a replay. After further review it appears that Chuck did not maintain possession of the ball while momentarily placing both feet inbounds before ultimately stepping out. Ruling on the field overturned. Result of the play - 4th and long. 

There sure is some interesting shit happening every which way apart from the direction of the frame.

Hey broski, two Heinekens. Just kidding, I’ll have six and a bag of pure unadulterated hops too.

That’s right. In Holland they use recycled beer bottles to build homes. Your move Africa.

It's hard to make out, but this woman is about to get a taste of some Heineken fresh from the distillery. What she doesn’t know is that the vats are actually filled with Pink Swamingo flavored Kool-Aid – a trick the Dutch have been playing on unassuming tourists for over three decades now, leading to their ubiquitous nickname – “those damn shifty Dutch."

24 degrees Celsius. Pulley in proper functional order. Apron adorned. Everything looks good on my end. Time to pull this lever like a Renaissance scientist. Aaaaaand I think I broke it. Just casually walk away Josh. Nobody saw anything. As long as this doesn't hit the internet, you're good...

And this is where the fluid eventually deposits, anxiously awaiting the poisonings of its next victims.

"NH Doelen" what? Get your shit together Amsterdam. I mean, is this a hospital, a shopping mall, a grand old opry, or what? Can you throw a few more lumens my way because I’m starting to get a little uncomfortable.

Hey, let’s eat some truffles, throw up several days of Turkish kebab onto the street, and stare at it until its fractal imagery engulfs me – said every tourist ever. 

"L VE SEX SHOW." Seriously Amsterdam, this dearth of lumens is cause for some substantial confusion. How am I to know what's going on in there? Those photos are as vague as a Nostradamus prophecy. The first step of recovery is simply admitting you have a problem. If you need to borrow some wattage, it’s all good. I got you. 

I am ever-so-slightly aroused. Ever-so-slightly…

Sweet art bruh. How much for the piece with the half-drawn face and shoulders? I really like how symmetrical they are, it really speaks to my iconoclast nature. Any chance you can paint an eye or two on there though? I just think it would make for a far more powerful polemic on societal conformity if there were, like, some eyelashes or something.

Oh yeah, we have boats too.

I just recently asked a Dutch friend what “snert” was. She told me it was a sort of black-bean soup. Tell me then, why do I see three very suspicious pieces of bologna in the grassy knoll? Is this another one of the Dutch’s wily subterfuges? At 6.5 euros, I realize now, what a fool I was not to find out. The world may never know what hides behind that exclamation point.

Ri… Rich? Is that you?

Alas, we have the quadfecta folks: bikes, row houses, a canal, and an ad for tulips. This could only get more Dutch if Armin Van Buuren were parading down the street in a motorized turntable car. Oh wait…