What the hell is it about getting old and partying? I still want to party, I still want to drink a lot of tequila, but I simply cannot function the morning after going out. And I always have to pee. I think I should get some Oops I Crapped My Pants. Ugh, I can still taste old beer on my breath. And someone broke my toilet seat. Awesome.
Despite my kvetching about not being able to handle my liquor/hangover, I had a lovely weekend in Amsterdam. Some lady friends and I polished off a bottle plus of wijn each before exiting to run game at the Pilsvogel (it means "Beer Bird"). We looked so hot that three guys left the bar and then came back 30 seconds later to hit on us. Jam!
We then finagled some free beers before I got an attitude problem and left for greener pastures (read: turkish pizza). I've found there is an assumption about Americans that pervades all foreign culture: We are rich, easy and stupid. Now, I have will concede that one of the above could be true, but I hate being treated like I don't know tuna from chicken.
Anyways, one of my friends tried to pull this guy with some weird Dutch name like Remco or Roy (dude, Dutch names are hilarious), who also happens to work at the same company she does. Post 4am texting, nothing materialized :( But at least now she's made an ass of herself after only 2 weeks on the job.
[coincidence: the following SMS just arrived from my friend -- "Holy shit, i am in this building five minutes and I see the guy from saturday nt. Thankfully he did not see me."]
Monday, September 17, 2007
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