HELLO, DEAR READER. Dear sweet, sensual reader. Beloved, strong, even-keeled reader. READER TALLER THAN A TALL HORSE AND TWICE AS MIGHTY, CONSTANTLY BIRTHING AND CONSUMING CHILDREN LIKE A GOD OF OLD, A CHIMERA OF OWL, LION, DRAGON, AND CARP. READER WHOSE YAWN CREATED THE UNIVERSE AND WHO WILL END ALL OF CREATION WITH A BLINK.
My travels across Europe continue, fruitfully, and I correspond to you this week from the happy little city of Amsterdam. Amsterdam is as lovely as I am stoned right now. I love it here. It’s like if San Francisco were flat or Portland had history it didn’t have to be ashamed of. It is truly a gift of a city, and while I’m stoned right now, I can also say, I’m incredibly stoned right now (even though I’m stoned right now). Wait, no, I actually wanted to say something about that—Amsterdam is wonderful because of its reputation, sure, but it’s also wonderful despite its reputation. When I speak of reputation, I’m referring to the weed (I’m stoned right now) and also to the prostitution.