The thoughts & opinions of Sassarella, the Queen of Sass as she cavorts in 's Gravenhage & beyond. Brought to you by CES's (Chief Executive Slaves) of Big Skanky Ho Inc.
Sick. Sick. Sick. I hate being sick. I especially hate being sick when I have another long weekend of sorts and I can't go anywhere due to onset of illness. I guess that day I rode my bike in the rain wasn't such a good idea, though now I'm no longer nervous of riding my bike in the rain.
I have to make a confession, though, to all my bike-riding friends who I used to mock for being such sucks about walking: I have come over to your side. I no longer want to walk anywhere. If it's too far for the bike, then I don't want to go. If it's too close for the bike, I have to have a fight with myself before I can leave the bike behind, a habit which has nearly gotten me killed more than once. Yesterday, I took my bike to the post office despite the fact that I had eight large packages to mail. Did I haul out the bike bag and put them in there? Nope. I carried them in my hand. I went three blocks and had only seven near-mishaps.
Still. No wipeouts yet, though that's probably more due to the quick reflexes of the Den Haag drivers rather than any skill on my part. Anyway.
Aleta darling, sweetie, pookie. I love the pictures. It's just that I'm frequently self-deprecating. Being horribly ill doesn't help. Neither does being in a country where no one understands my jokes. It's a bit of a blow to the ego. Also, if Dave wants to get in on the blogging action he is certainly more than welcome. It's just that his life is so boring. What would he say? Would it involve cats? Maybe jokes about Garfield? Or Cathy? Or maybe even Ziggy? I don't know.
David, I jokes. Maybe you could write about Archie?
I'm about to check if I can get a last minute deal to go somewhere exciting this weekend. Maybe my next blog entry will be from an exciting and farflung destination. Here's hoping. posted by Alleen at 2:34:30 PM
Tuesday, July 09, 2002
a) i'm really glad to see that other people are commenting. i was starting to feel obsessive. o wait -- i *am*.
b) david, i don't know if we can put pictures on comments. i'm going to try it & find out in a moment.
c) the naming system is as follows: zero comments = nibbles. one comment = love bite. more than one comment = hickeys. although i can change the naming system to anything. let's have a poll: what would you like to see in the comments? remember the format of zero, one and more than one. oh, and i don't promise to do anything about it if people want me to change. ;)
d) i'm sorry about the pictures. if you were working for the u.n. in nova, i'm sure there would be many attractive shots for me to collect & scan.
e) the drug entry remains oblique. do you really think i want you to know who said what?? it's more fun this way! posted by Rocketbride at 4:29:19 PM
Monday, July 08, 2002
Yeah. So I'm a geek. So what. I just had a four day weekend and pretty well did nothing with it except for a trip into Amsterdam and an art class. I probably could have come up with something better, but I didn't know that I was getting a day off on Friday until Thursday evening and I didn't know about getting Monday off until Sunday night. What the dilly-o, you ask? I don't know. I just don't know.
Hey that was pretty good. I'm writing lyrics like Missy! Watch out!
But hey, a trip into Amsterdam ain't bad. Spent the day shopping, and watching Spider-man at the Tuschinski Theatre (this totally wicked ass art deco theatre--almost more fun than Spider-man, but not because Spider-man was pretty fun) and wandering around and smoking pot. We ended up at this coffeeshop whose name I forget where we watched Jackass, this really strange MTV show I've never seen before. At one point, this little white guy, I assume the host, started sumo-wrestling with a great big huge sumo wrestler who beat him so hard that his diaper fell off. At which point, this Polish guy (like from Poland) turned to me and asked if I would like to see his friend naked. I politely declined, so he sat me down and very seriously explained to me that this friend had a nice body and maybe I'd like to see it. So we left.
We went across the street to this wicked mexican restaurant and had some extremely delicious burritos. Then we ended up at this bar called Planet Rock, where this guy, who I swear was the drummer from some sort of 80s hair metal band, started dancing and shaking his massive head of Dee Snyder hair at us. He looked like the kind of guy who had the worst job on the planet, but every night he went home, put on a ton of leather and hair mousse and went to Planet Rock and picked up dirty girls who were willing to sleep with him because he told them that he could introduce them to Vince Neil. The funny thing is that they were playing Tool at the time. Then this other guy, who eventually introduced himself as Frankie, spent a good ten minutes trying to cheer me up (was I sad? I don't think so. Apparently on my inexpressive face, "I am sad" and "this music sucks" look the same.) until I started laughing so hard that he feared that I must be insane and umm...went away. He told me that he'd been working at Planet Rock for 11 years until he got fired for "you know, drinking, and the girls." I will have to start looking more unapproachable.
But on the plus side, I got some Mexican wrestling postcards and (yay!) comic books.
But... this reminds me of something that happened the last time I was in Amsterdam. I was getting off the train with the nice Calgarian, when we noticed what looked like an intense beating happening on the floor in front of us. Basically this massive white dude in a bomber jacket and docs had a little black guy on the ground in a choke hold. Behind them there was a crowd in the middle of which was a white woman (also bomber jacket and docs) screaming something at the black guy.
You can guess what I'm thinking at this point. I'm thinking that I should call the cops. Because the woman is now screaming in the guy's face and she's smacking him on the back of the head. And just as I'm thinking that I should definitely call the cops, I realize that they are the cops.
Apparently these two undercover cops had just busted this guy who had tried to swallow his drugs instead of letting the cops have them. So they wrestled him to the floor and started choking him and smacking him on the back of the head to get him to cough it up.
Thankfully, this time I had an uneventful train ride and went to Amsterdam troubled only by strange men and not junkies being arrested on the floor of Centraal Station.
