My Amsterdam Top Ten

1) REMBRANDT FACE. Everywhere you look, there's this one drawing Rembrandt did of himself. He looks extremely surprised, a little turned-on, and a bit queer. You see this face on the airplane, the tram stations, and even on bike rentals. A man who wanted my money punched this Rembrandt face on my bike as I rode off. It seemed appropos.

2) CAFE QUIBUS. Yes, this place deserves mention in not one but two posts. Is it because of the plaid-wearing lady bartender? The packs of overgrown man-children? Its proximity to Krista's house? That a glass of wine costs two Euros? (Approximately equivalent to 1,000,000 American dollars.) It's all of the above, and more: it's called QUIBUS.

3) CAT BOAT. Amsterdam: a top European city that can proudly boast a Poezenboot. It's free, it's filled with felines, and they're fluffy and fat. You can adopt them, and I saw one British man that did, but mostly it's a happening hangout for people wearing purple stretchpants and t-shirts with cats on them. Singel 40, people; Singel 40.

4) FIETSWORLD. I didn't walk, I didn't take the train, I didn't drive, I didn't get driven. I rode my Rembrandt face bike, and I fucking loved it. As Gwen Stefani would've sang if she was me, now, "UH-HUH, THAT'S MY FIETS/ALL THE 'DAM RIDE AROUND LIKE THIS/'CUZ I AIN'T NO PEDALBACK BIKE/NO I AIN'T NO PEDALBACKBIKE/...KISS MY FIETS/KISS MY FIETS..." (Note: don't get off your bike. You will DIE. I mean it. You will be murdered by a rabid pack of angry cyclists when all's you tryin' to do is cross the street, or like, touch your hair.)

5) TRANNIES FROM FRANNY. Why is everyone in this klompen-wearing world from San Francisco? Why have they all moved on from their original gender? I don't know, but I kind of want to move here. And keep performing at Cafe Sappho (www.sappho.nl) where I did another round of "Workhorse" for trannies and ladies from both Franny and Dammy.

6) MJ & JOE. What is better to take the edge off the Anne Frank Huis than some Mary Jane? And what better to have with it than some espresso? (Note: espresso comes with a biscuit.) No cops, no jail sentence, no bad-laced ju-ju. Yes, there were crowds of Japanese tourists chasing after me on my fiets, and yes I am famous, and that doesn't mean that I deserve to be hounded when I'm just trying to figure out how to not lean to the left while biking home, wherever that may actually be.

7) MAN. Only here could I find the closest thing to my first true love, Mork. Here, men in rainbow sweaters with hip haircuts walking fluffy dogs are not gay, they are just Dutch.

8) THE LADIES. What's better than walking through ancient stone alleys filled with some good lookin' whores in red-lit boxes? And what's funnier than being in the middle of packs of straight men looking at the girls? One tried to wrangle Bas, and even gave him a free little whipping. The outfits could use some work--a few too many Soviet Britneys. And furry boots. And metallic lycra!

9) DROOHHHG. I wanted to eat everything Droog Design as soon as I set eyes on it. I was forced to find a sorry substitute around the corner (unreal chocolates from a store that smelled better than being inside an enormous hot cake), and snuck about taking lots of pictures of the most perfect light fixtures I'd ever seen (barring a porcelain antler chandelier that Jason Miller of Brooklyn designed).

10) OUTLETS. Which brings me to: power outlets. In Amsterdam. In Europe. Are round. And perfect. With two round, perfect holes for prongs. And the plugs on things fit them. And are perfect, and beautiful, and a creamy white. Truthfully, those outlets are the #1 reason why I itch to move to Europe, at least for awhile. They fit things like Droog lamps, and Heico hot pink bunnies, and even without their usefulness they are perfect little art objects lining every apartment. If this doesn't make me a romantic, I don't know what does. I mean, really. Outlets. Hot.