Like, you ain't livin' out in BK.
Like, you ain't workin' on a screenplay.
Like, your baby daddy ain't a DJ.
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| Don't ask. |
There's a delicious chain that serves little sandwiches in the Netherlands, that you should definitely hit up. Not only because of tiny roast beef sandwiches, but for more obscure things like this:
That first one was some sort of beef puree thing on a simple bun, but man, it was smooth and yummy. And this other one is some sort of Dutch specialty, called the Croquet. It tastes like deep fat fried gravy with meat bits in it. Get the Beef. It's fuckin DELICIOUS. Put a little mustard on it and bwamf. Mouf boners.
The Dutch also love their fries. But if you want to feel like a true local, you have to try them Oorlog style. Globs of Sate Sauce (tastes like our Peanut sauce), Mayo, and a couple spoonfuls of Onions on top of fresh Fries. You may think that sounds like ass, but believe me, it's heaven.
The night before I headed back to Paris, I ended up strolling through the Red Light District for shits n giggles. Except here's the thing about going on a Monday night in March - it's not the weekend or Tourist season, so there not much to look at. Also, only go when it's pitch black. If there's any semblance of light, it looses all it's appeal and everything is sad.
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| How dirty was this condom? |
Appropriately, while I was washing my clothes the next day, some girl tossed in her load and left, leaving a little hilarity for the few of us that were hanging about.
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| Amsterdam Centraal |
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