Bad Shit In Amsterdam.

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Good morning my friend,

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I agree with you, nothing much great about a Monday if you have to go to work again after a weekend of debauchery, or just a few quiet days doing nothing special.

But you do have a bright side, there is another weekend in five days time.

Isn’t it a shame that people don’t work the weekends instead and have the week off!

Is it possible, if  everyone works two and a half times as hard for each of those two days?

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Don’t be mad, of course it isn’t.  All that would happen is that everyone would speedily be told that if they can work that hard, then they must normally be slacking, so in future they must work two and a half times harder every day of the week, or else they will be seen as layabouts and slackers who need to pull their socks up.

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See, it could be much worse, so get on with it.

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Grit your teeth and carry on slacking.

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For some strange reason, as I was feeding the birds this morning, my thoughts turned to Amsterdam.

Have you been?  It is a strange place.

You can spend all day sitting outside brown cafes ,smoking, and getting improbably mellow, while benignly watching the world go by.

It also feels incredibly naughty.

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One day Big H and I were sitting on a bench, with a good view of the water, and the Skinny Bridge spanning across it to the other side.

It was quiet and hazily warm.

We had bought some cheese, ham, fresh bread and a bottle of wine.

It was lovely sitting there, slowly eating our meal, and saying how quiet it was and how there did not seem to be very many people around the place on that particular day.

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Suddenly a huge black car purred up smoothly, right beside our bench.

The front driver’s door opened and out stepped a beautifully uniformed chauffeur, peaked cap and all.

He smartly marched to the rear door,  that was facing us, and opened it wide.  He then stepped back and stood holding the it firmly in place .

We were then treated to the sight of a diminutive, dyed blonde lady sitting imperiously in the back, dressed in a belted black leather suit, tight as a second skin, well matched with very high heeled black patent leather shoes..

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She wriggled out of the car, holding one end of a fancy lead, and aimed some sharp commands  towards the interior.

Suddenly, out came a bloody huge and massively muscled dog.  Gleaming with health and good living.

It totally ignored us, thank goodness, and squatted down to do a poo, as she had obviously just ordered it to do.

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Once the dog was emptied, back they went into the car, and the impassive chauffeur closed the door with an expensive, quiet cluck.

Off it purred

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And there we sat, food in hand, beside the biggest, steaming pile of dog poo you have ever seen in your life.

VERY NICE !!!!!!!

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I am inclined to think that, as nothing else works, drugs should be made totally legal and freely available at special centres.

This may take away the illicit thrill and dark glamour of it all, and it will help to stop all the drug related muggings and burglaries that people carry out to fund expensive habits.

Also, it will help stop the criminals making a fortune leading people into drugs, and then supplying the drugs, and exerting control over the addicts.

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I think that a small section of any group of people are unlucky enough to be truly addictive personalities, and they will still take drugs etc. but it should save millions of people being actively and deliberately led into drug taking, with dealers standing outside of schools etc.

This could happen, along with a media campaign, to help people see drug addicts as helpless, sad people, who are to be pitied and helped.  Not role models to be copied.

Think of all the money and resources that would be freed for other uses.

It’s a thought anyway.

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So, I must take my leave of you now.

Unfortunately our fridge freezer died on Saturday morning and everything began to defrost.

We have spent the weekend either throwing food away, or eating all those things you buy on the spur of the moment and then never feel like preparing.

Today we must away to town and try to find a replacement we can afford, without me needing to get Big H addicted to drugs before turning him out onto the streets to earn the readies.

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LOL,

J

An extra bit of information for those of you who are petrolheads.

Big H says that the car in question, which was obviously used to distribute shit all over Amsterdam, was a Mercedes 600 S type.

We are talking dog shit of course….not good shit.

Link to more tales of Amsterdam.

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