I smell. I’m hungry. I can’t keep my eyes opened. Some random dude has been crashing at the Spaniard’s place next door, and he obviously cares nothing for my strict bathroom cleanliness. A brotha goes away for a few weeks and suddenly all of Amsterdam comes over to aim badly at his toilet.
I digress. It’s grey, cool, and windy. Bikes speed past my window and ring their bells. Dutch high speed internet flows through my veins again. I HAVE ARRIVED, all over this city.
I’m too jetlagged to tell you about the nicey-nice Minnesota Femenina who sat next to me for one leg of the trip. We were like travelling peas and carrots.. both carrying our own bags of dried fruit and both working in random European Cities. (she chose Bar?alouca!) Turns out, life in Bar?a is fun, but salaries suck and prices are high. More inspiration never to leave budget life here in the Netherworlds.
Having stopped in two European countries today and read up their newspapers, I thought I would mention that they keep pointing out how many people each country has lost in South-East Asia. They also keep breakin down who donated what. I thought it was odd that the US comes in after Australia, Germany, and Japan. And I think it’s cool that individual countries give money and then the EU as a whole throws a chunk of change. That makes for lots of aid. Imagine individual US states did that… talk about lots of loot!
I spoke to Anti the other night, while in Jersey. I call him Antee, if you must know. And we had a hootenany of a AIM conversation.
And just to get back into my normal inkkernet routine, I chatted quickly with BITCHPHD who seems to be on the verge of big changes, including CHANGING HER BLOG NAME!
Today’s Sounds: Kings of Convenience – Quiet is the New Loud
My nephew A-Ren is in charge of packing my bags, as I’m off to the ‘dam via Lisbon in a few hours. He’s taking extra care that each item goes in his mouth, which I’m convinced is his personal x-ray machine, to ensure my safety before packing. He’s also been extra generous by giving me extra drool on my shirt… for the road. Once the my hip new pilot’s bag is closed, le petit prince will be sure to bang both hands against it and drum me the latest beat from the Portuguese-American toddler underground scene.
BM: Let me explain. No.. it’s too much… lemme sum up: this is a blog and I am blogging. That being said, let’s start from your death in 1979, why spread your ashes over the Ganges River in India?
As I stood in line… one of the longest lines I’ve ever seen as these things, I kept scanning the crowd. Suddenly, areas of my memory which had been long packed up in grey matter, were reactivated. I looked at photo collages and remembered that
So I went into the village and met up with he and the world-reknown 