Sex and Drugs in Amsterdam
When most people come back from Amsterdam, they remark on the massive amount of bikes in the town. (A population of 730,000 has some 600,000 cycles!) Although it’s been done, I first have to exclaim about all the bicycles!!! It’s really nice to see a city so efficiently run with much less reliance on autos.
We, my dear ladyfriend Kristina and I, had been so overwhelmed with schoolwork, it was incredible to just stop. Stop doing. Stop thinking. Stop.
Accordingly, most of our photos are ‘am and K in this coffeeshop…am and K in that coffeeshop.’ True, I am my mother’s daughter: all of her vacation photos are ‘Cindy and friends at this bar…Cindy and friends and that bar…’ There are few scenery pictures—Amsterdam looks much like any other European city, but with canals. Scenery to me is often of little photographic interest. No matter how enchanting the buildings or landscape are, you can rarely capture that glory on film. People on the other hand are mutable and offer so much character in just one exposure. So the photos are perhaps a bit repetitive…almost all Kristina and I, but I love them! www.flickr.com/photos/amitylane There are some magnificently lovely ones of Kristina; she looked darling.
Accommodation
I arrived at the Flying Pig youth hostel, and it was definitely one of those “Hey I’m young and think I’m cute, you’re young and cute, let’s flirt” type of joints. Everyone’s all enthusiastically saying “right on” to everything you say and down for the perennial party. Not that big of a deal, nor did I think it would be a big deal to be in a mixed sex dorm. Well, apparently all the OTHER girls thought it would be so, so in my room it was just dudes (probably hoping there would be a mix of sexes). Just dudes. And the manliness was exemplified as I was trying to sleep the first night. So I hear normal showery noises from Dude in the bathroom. Splish…splash splash…splosh..splosh SPLASH. Then it becomes rhythmic and patterned. There is fervor and intent behind these splishes: Splish. Splish. Splish. Splish. SPLISH. SPLISH. SPLISH. SPLISH. SPLISH. SPLISH. With growing intensity accumulating in “aaaahhhh.” Kristina said he was probably being polite in a dude way, “Hey, at least I didn’t spank the monkey in front of her!” Needless to say, I eventually found a cheap hotel offering a private room. It’s a terribly sexy city; just breathing the air makes you randy, so I don’t blame the dude, but I sure appreciated my privacy.
Christmas Eve: The Sex Day
To best understand the virgin birth, we thought it appropriate to devote the day to sex. The Sexmuseum was a good prelude to the live sex show we would later see. We turned down the 20 some euro private show for the ‘pay as you go’ peep show—if you’re not going to be classy, you may as well be really low-class. So Kristina and I smooshed into the booth where we could see a bunch of rhythmically shaking men in their respective booths, all around the revolving stage. The girl didn’t give us much of a show—probably because we’re girls. Misogynist stripper!! She didn’t even show us her boobs! (For you linguists, the b is quite plosive and the double o ought to be pronounced as an umlauted and exaggerated u.)
But then a dude came out and started the humping. ‘Humping’ truly is the appropriate word for their sex act. It was rather uneventful and we didn’t stay for him to...climax; we’ve both seen guys humping before and it’s pretty much the same story all around.
In general, the city is quite sexy and a place for luvahs (said creepily). I felt bad for Kristina that I wasn’t her man…not in a weird way, I just know how it sucked at times to look over at your travelmate and not be able to hump the man you adore. Ah…such a romantic I am…
Kristina and the Christ’s Birthday
Kristina shares her birthday with the Christ, our Lord and Saviour. Since the story of the birth is rather mythical and fantastical, I thought hallucinogens would be apt for the big day. Kristina remained the sober chauffeur and was a most exemplar partner and guide for a trip; she was forever pleasant, patient, and knew all the best places to take someone in my state.
Mushroom Highlights:
1. The screaming, crying guy at the coffeeshop. He kind of looked like a more Moroccan version of Ed from Northern Exposure, and all of a sudden started to wail and flail about. He was eventually ‘escorted’ out, only to continue banging on the window right in front of Kristina and I. This was a proper freak out, and one would think it’d be cause for a bad trip, but NAY, he was actually quite mesmerizing.
2. The Magical Mystery Tour. An incredible boat ride through the city’s canals. Although it was Kristina’s birthday, I had to let her do the paying…wasn’t so much ready for interacting and processing. However, these Dudes in wedding outfits thought I was. They were drunk and kept spitting out questions in some godforsaken language. All I could do was chase their questions looking for familiar words with quick responses of “no…no…no…YES….no…no...” Moreover, the boat filled with a giant Cypriot Turk family (I thought they were Cypriot Turks) that I kept creeping out. One of their daughters had an amazing look and I kept trying to get a nice photo of her. The unfortunate thing with a digital camera, however, is that everyone behind me (in this case her FAMILY) could see me trying to snap photos of the girl.
3. The merman seaguy. You know those guys in all European cities that paint themselves metallicky and look like some statue of sorts. You can imagine why this was a highlight. I felt he saw right through me and kept ushering me to come closer. My talent on hallucinogens, however, is knowing how much I can handle. Coming closer would have been entirely too much to handle.
4. Kristina’s hair. As we were opening presents (right about the time Dude was having a breakdown in the coffeeshop), Kristina’s hair began to flow, move, meld like ocean waves. Ocean waves…maybe not. Maybe more like a wind came over a Renoir painting and started tussling a girl’s hair. Most of you have done some LSD or mushrooms…you know what I’m talking about.
5. My hand. Ok, standard trip thing, but can you ever get tired of your own body morphing? I think not.
We, my dear ladyfriend Kristina and I, had been so overwhelmed with schoolwork, it was incredible to just stop. Stop doing. Stop thinking. Stop.
Accordingly, most of our photos are ‘am and K in this coffeeshop…am and K in that coffeeshop.’ True, I am my mother’s daughter: all of her vacation photos are ‘Cindy and friends at this bar…Cindy and friends and that bar…’ There are few scenery pictures—Amsterdam looks much like any other European city, but with canals. Scenery to me is often of little photographic interest. No matter how enchanting the buildings or landscape are, you can rarely capture that glory on film. People on the other hand are mutable and offer so much character in just one exposure. So the photos are perhaps a bit repetitive…almost all Kristina and I, but I love them! www.flickr.com/photos/amitylane There are some magnificently lovely ones of Kristina; she looked darling.
Accommodation
I arrived at the Flying Pig youth hostel, and it was definitely one of those “Hey I’m young and think I’m cute, you’re young and cute, let’s flirt” type of joints. Everyone’s all enthusiastically saying “right on” to everything you say and down for the perennial party. Not that big of a deal, nor did I think it would be a big deal to be in a mixed sex dorm. Well, apparently all the OTHER girls thought it would be so, so in my room it was just dudes (probably hoping there would be a mix of sexes). Just dudes. And the manliness was exemplified as I was trying to sleep the first night. So I hear normal showery noises from Dude in the bathroom. Splish…splash splash…splosh..splosh SPLASH. Then it becomes rhythmic and patterned. There is fervor and intent behind these splishes: Splish. Splish. Splish. Splish. SPLISH. SPLISH. SPLISH. SPLISH. SPLISH. SPLISH. With growing intensity accumulating in “aaaahhhh.” Kristina said he was probably being polite in a dude way, “Hey, at least I didn’t spank the monkey in front of her!” Needless to say, I eventually found a cheap hotel offering a private room. It’s a terribly sexy city; just breathing the air makes you randy, so I don’t blame the dude, but I sure appreciated my privacy.
Christmas Eve: The Sex Day
To best understand the virgin birth, we thought it appropriate to devote the day to sex. The Sexmuseum was a good prelude to the live sex show we would later see. We turned down the 20 some euro private show for the ‘pay as you go’ peep show—if you’re not going to be classy, you may as well be really low-class. So Kristina and I smooshed into the booth where we could see a bunch of rhythmically shaking men in their respective booths, all around the revolving stage. The girl didn’t give us much of a show—probably because we’re girls. Misogynist stripper!! She didn’t even show us her boobs! (For you linguists, the b is quite plosive and the double o ought to be pronounced as an umlauted and exaggerated u.)
But then a dude came out and started the humping. ‘Humping’ truly is the appropriate word for their sex act. It was rather uneventful and we didn’t stay for him to...climax; we’ve both seen guys humping before and it’s pretty much the same story all around.
In general, the city is quite sexy and a place for luvahs (said creepily). I felt bad for Kristina that I wasn’t her man…not in a weird way, I just know how it sucked at times to look over at your travelmate and not be able to hump the man you adore. Ah…such a romantic I am…
Kristina and the Christ’s Birthday
Kristina shares her birthday with the Christ, our Lord and Saviour. Since the story of the birth is rather mythical and fantastical, I thought hallucinogens would be apt for the big day. Kristina remained the sober chauffeur and was a most exemplar partner and guide for a trip; she was forever pleasant, patient, and knew all the best places to take someone in my state.
Mushroom Highlights:
1. The screaming, crying guy at the coffeeshop. He kind of looked like a more Moroccan version of Ed from Northern Exposure, and all of a sudden started to wail and flail about. He was eventually ‘escorted’ out, only to continue banging on the window right in front of Kristina and I. This was a proper freak out, and one would think it’d be cause for a bad trip, but NAY, he was actually quite mesmerizing.
2. The Magical Mystery Tour. An incredible boat ride through the city’s canals. Although it was Kristina’s birthday, I had to let her do the paying…wasn’t so much ready for interacting and processing. However, these Dudes in wedding outfits thought I was. They were drunk and kept spitting out questions in some godforsaken language. All I could do was chase their questions looking for familiar words with quick responses of “no…no…no…YES….no…no...” Moreover, the boat filled with a giant Cypriot Turk family (I thought they were Cypriot Turks) that I kept creeping out. One of their daughters had an amazing look and I kept trying to get a nice photo of her. The unfortunate thing with a digital camera, however, is that everyone behind me (in this case her FAMILY) could see me trying to snap photos of the girl.
3. The merman seaguy. You know those guys in all European cities that paint themselves metallicky and look like some statue of sorts. You can imagine why this was a highlight. I felt he saw right through me and kept ushering me to come closer. My talent on hallucinogens, however, is knowing how much I can handle. Coming closer would have been entirely too much to handle.
4. Kristina’s hair. As we were opening presents (right about the time Dude was having a breakdown in the coffeeshop), Kristina’s hair began to flow, move, meld like ocean waves. Ocean waves…maybe not. Maybe more like a wind came over a Renoir painting and started tussling a girl’s hair. Most of you have done some LSD or mushrooms…you know what I’m talking about.
5. My hand. Ok, standard trip thing, but can you ever get tired of your own body morphing? I think not.
posted by Amity at 9:40 PM
7 Comments:
Hey...did you steal my cat. His name is Wacko and I think you stole him. Ciao-M (for mysterious)
At first I was afraid, I was petrified,
that I had gifted a toe-curling live-journal to a friend by my side,
but then I read your holiday tales and found that I was wrong,
your writing is ace,
the only crap thing was this song...
Your ability to say absolutely anything is a gift.... it comes across in your writing too...;)
Quality.
I look forward to hearing you bitch about your coursemates, and brag about your booty-shaking conquests on the dancefloors of Edinburgh...
OMG what have I unleashed on the world???
JLH
To M
There was a man from Springfield
From bars next door together we’d reeled.
Though never to me had he fouled
It was he who did shave me bald
While over his tub I had kneeled.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Hmmm... can't say I know anything about it. Who are you?
There was a hot chick named P*cenka
For her eloquent blog we do thenk her
She may come across shocking,
Screaming "boobs!" and "that's rockin'"
But if you don't love this girl your a wenker.
Thanks for a great new years day
S xx
Lately, cooped up on the ship with a company ofguys she knew well, but who by and large treated her as a combination sisterand one of the guys, shed usually seen her old, dumpy self. Its isnt fair.
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Lately, cooped up on the ship with a company ofguys she knew well, but who by and large treated her as a combination sisterand one of the guys, shed usually seen her old, dumpy self. Its isnt fair.
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