the wasp womanAfter about a half dozen pints at the pub I finally got my friend Juan to stop hitting on our waitress long enough for me to explain my problem. I’d been with my girlfriend all summer, and it just wasn’t working out.

“She’s a sweet girl. The sex is good. But I’m starting to feel trapped,” I said.

Now whether this was an accurate take on our relationship, proof of my latent homosexuality, or the naked fear of commitment is irrelevant. I was 20. I didn’t need marriage, or a committed relationship. I just needed sex.

“She’s so psyched about living together.” I said. “And I don’t want to hurt her.”

I imagine I confided in Juan because he always had a hot girlfriend. In fact, he’d had one or two of mine. And when the time was right he had no problem telling his girlfriends to fuck off.

Juan (or as we liked to call him “el Bicho”), couldn’t afford college, so he went to work for a pest control company right out of high school. I was a house painter when I wasn’t studying writing at Umass Boston. And between all the weed, work chemicals, and beer, we were both fairly tweaked that night.

“You know wha you deal ees buddy?” he said. “You a fuckin’ pussy. Betta get rid of her now. If you wait, you really be fucked.”

Juan went on to claim that his work as a pest control expert gave him a unique insight into this problem. And then he insisted I buy him another Guinness as payment for what I am about to tell you. Read the rest of this entry »

strippers on the run

Van Gogh paintings, concentric canals, and the house of some ol’ blind woman are nice and all, but there’s really only one reason tourists with healthy libidos and substance abuse problems go to Amsterdam; killer bud, and nasty whores.

At Daily Distractions, we think if you can’t return home to your unsuspecting families missing a few thousand brain cells, and covered with runny sores, then you should damn well schlep your tourist dollars elsewhere.

Critics argue Amsterdam’s gone too far. They claim all the coffee shops, strip clubs, and freaky hookers who populate Amsterdam’s red light district attract the criminal element. Our theory: these criminals are after one thing: wooden shoes. I mean have you seen those suckers? I’d kill for a pair.

So, along comes Mayor Job Cohen, like the worst kind of Huguenot. He brokers a deal with real estate tycoon “Fat” Charlie Geerts to begin phasing out Amsterdam’s beloved red light district.

Oh sure, these reformers claim the red light district will remain, and that prostitution, and marijuana will still be legal in Amsterdam. But it’s a slippery slope my friends, a slippery slope. At best, the price of grass and ass will soar. At worst, we’ll need to find a new home for all our Viagra and rolling papers.

Video Clip – Amsterdam’s Red Light District

On the net – Spiegel Online International