marion's friend set us up in a superduper little apartment nearish the red light district kind of in the heart of amsterdam. it overlooks... well it overlooks some fucking street the name of which i can't remember, it probably ends in "straat." the guy below owns a laundromat-- his name is mr. singh, and he's delightful, although his taste in coffee shops is questionable. please note that mr. singh's apartment comes with a fully stocked kitchen (anyway, there is no NEED to buy any goddamn marijuana in this city, you get high by simply walking around.)
anyhoo. the scariest part of mr. singh's apartment (i really can't complain about the vertiginous stairwells because that's typical here) would have to be the shower, which is probably on loan from auschwitz and marion and i have only braved it once each. it is communal, and today i heard some guy doing EXTREMELY TROUBLING breathing exercises up in thurr when i had to pee, and so rather than go up there and risk seeing some dude in a hockey mask standing over the remains of some american tourist, i crossed my legs real tight and haven't been up since. the sink is looking pretty good right now.
I just tried to come up with a metaphor for how whenever I comment on your posts I feel like Bill Watterson's editor, trying to justify any attempt to improve for others the sight of another of Calvin's gigantic snow-monsters, and all he can come up with is, like, a silly hat. Or at best, a little red clown nose.
ReplyDelete(http://acitr.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/calvinsnowart-best1.jpg
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clown nose)
This is all a convoluted way of guessing that you and marion are having a grand adventure, one with many stories crammed deep between the bulletins, which stories I cannot wait to hear! Shall we skype this weekend? Evening/late-night again? Hit me back, dear.
yours, exhausted/ively,
Steve
MARION YOU BEAUTIFUL IDIOT STOP HIDING YOUR FACE
ReplyDeletemiss you both love you both