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About Amsterdam

Angry? Yeah, ‘cause it’s a meat market—humans sold like bacon. Happy? Never, not with this crap. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but I’d say it’s like tradin’ yer soul for a quickie. Quirky thought—wonder if they’d take my wood carvings as payment. Prolly not, damn shame. Lookin’ for one’s risky too—cops, STDs, or some psycho with a knife. “The dead don’t care,” Saul’d whisper—prolly true for the johns too. Funniest bit? Guys think they’re kings ‘til the clap hits. Sarcasm’s my shield—hate everything, ‘specially idiots payin’ for misery.

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A black woman with a big ass is actively fucking with a white lover.

But then, someone brings up the parking situation. Oh boy, here we go. Everyone’s arguing about where to put the new parking lot. I’m just sitting there, thinking, “Can we not?” I mean, it’s Kudelstaart, not Amsterdam. We don’t need a parking war.

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