Amsterdam this past weekend. Whereas I used to be a young Gene Wilder, I am now a present day Ozzie Osbourne.

I spent most of my time in the Savoy Bar, the retirement home for prostitutes. I talked to a woman, L'Chelle, for 50 minutes. She looked old, maybe 65. She said she was 24 and I don't know why, but I believed her. I don't think they make dentistry a high priority in Amsterdam, because she, and many others looked like they were wearing the snaggle-teeth dentures you buy come Halloween time. Her smile would make homeless man lose his appetite...on Thanksgiving. I told her I lived in Alabama but was originally from Outer Space. I told her I was a magician and a singer, both professionally. I requested Michael Jackson's "Another Part Of Me" at the DJ booth. When it blared from the grimy speakers I sang in my worst voice. I think I offended the other retirees and their clientèle. I ordered a double whiskey on the rocks and L'Chelle asked me if I'd be her buy her one. I told her I had no money as the bartender broke my 50 Euro bill.

On Friday we went to Ecuador, to the Van Gogh Museum, and back to the Savoy. I had a laughing fit at the Van Gogh museum and was asked to leave. I left, but not before I tested the durability and quality of several of the paintings by jabbing them with my right foot, then my left foot. Yes, People stared. It's hard being a celebrity.

Talked to a couple folks from Dublin, one of whom said that America had shown its hand in the war. I thought that was a clever and fitting way to put it. I showed him my hand, it was full of my own doody.

Had the weather not been Les Miserables, I would have stayed in Ecuador and at the Savoy for the entirety of my trip.