More silliness from abroad, folks. Thanks for tuning in.

I'm still enjoying my time here. Every day, I see something that makes me realize what's cool/different/interesting about travelling. Top on my list today: Dutch music preferences.

Two days ago, I was walking through the Dam, a tourist-infested square in de Centrum, when a car pulled up to a stop. He was the Dutch equivalent of the Assholes With Too Much Bass, the guys who like to share their music whether you want to or not. What was he playing? Michael Jackson, "Smooth Criminal". No, not the Alien Ant Farm remix, the original. I haven't heard a car blast that in 15 years.

Shopping in the local supermarkt, I'm serenaded by everything from Devo to Frankie Goes to Hollywood, and I'm loving it. 80's pop is alive, and it moved to Holland.

When the Dutch take a holiday, they ALL take a holiday. I mean the whole damn country. Every shop is closed for the three-day weekend, families take vacations, go for walks, everything. It's quite a sight.

Myself and three friends took a trip to Vondelpark for the Easter Monday holiday. I spent the afternoon lying on a grassy embankment next to a lake, watching the people and the nature.

Remember when rollerblading was the thing to do? Apparently it looked around, said, "Hey, 80's pop, where are you going? Can I come"? I've never seen so many rollerbladers in one place. If you like taking your life in your own hands, try crossing the skate paths in Vondelpark on a holiday.

The Dutch really like their dogs. I mean, they REALLY like them. Right next to the coffee bar in the middle of the park is a dog-bone vending machine. That's right, just for dogs.

I'm currently sharing the Greenpeace flat in Duivendrecht, a suburb of Amsterdam, with two other GP activists. We occupy the first and second levels above a dentist's office. By this, I mean we actually enter the dentist's office, open what appears to be a closet door, and climb the world's smallest spiral staircase to enter our living room. You get used to it, unless you're British. Both my Brit roommate and the Brit guests we've had over have developed an amusing phobia of entering and leaving the apartment. The sterile "dentist office" smell seems to terrify them. I'm beginning to understand why ships' captains had to force their crews to eat limes for their own good. They certainly wouldn't do it on their own.

Those of you that have seen "Pulp Fiction" have no doubt heard of changes in McDonalds marketing for the metric system. "Royale with Cheese" my ass. Wherever Samuel L was visiting, it wasn't the McD's on Kalverstraat. You can order a "Quarter Pounder" with fries and drink for 4.50 euro.

Out drinking a few nights ago, I passed a scooter ferrying two friends downtown. One riding, one on the back, one wearing roller blades and holding on to the rear. This is not abnormal. I've got to try it!

I've got to get back to work, but before I do, I must curse my poor impulse control. The Dutch have a much better idea of baked goods and cookies than Americans. Witness my green kryptonite: the Stroopwaffel.

http://www.dutchmarket.com/ppstwa.html

Ever have one? Ever have just one? You're a better man than me. And you can buy them anywhere, fresh. Bastards!

Rest assured, I'll be over my quota of Stroopwaffels when I board the plane, but they'll be gone before I get to customs.