RUSSIA NUMBER ONE!

Five more Random People Pictures:
-Brussels:
--Quentin, but not pronounced like Tarantino pronounces it. He worked at the front desk at our hostel in Brussels and he had cool glasses and a snazzy accent.
-Amsterdam:
--Two guys that worked at a souvenir store that I went into. The guy at the counter was named Chai (I probably spelled that wrong, but that was how he pronounced it), and when I asked to take a picture with him, he said that usually, they do not allow people to take pictures in the store, but he said for me, it was okay. The other guy's name was Carlos and he had a mullet that was dreaded. Honest to blog. It was amazing. I'd never have even thought of a dreaded mullet, but we have seen two already here in Europe. I really hope that catches on someday in the States.
--When Alea and I were wandering around trying to find our hostel, we had to stop in two stores to ask for directions, and the guy at the second was really helpful. Then a few hours later, we happened to pass by that same store again, and he recognized us and made sure we found our place. His name was something that started with a B, and Alea and I think it was Bindal, but we do not know for sure.
--RUSSIA GUY. We were walking along a canal, and this guy was sitting on a couch (yes, a couch) on the opposite bank shouting "RUSSIA NUMBER ONE!" to all the tourists walking by on the side we were on. Getting the picture was absolutely terrifying, though, because once I was standing next to him, I saw that he had crusted blood below a bandage on his eyebrow and he started telling me that he was the "first heroin." I'm not sure what he meant by that.



Amsterdam is nice, but I liked Brussels and Bruges more. Belgium was totally rad.

I bought a hat made out of hemp today, and it is love. Gianni also bought a hemp hat, although it is not the same style. I think he feels the same way about his hat as I do about mine, though. Hemp = Love.

I need to send more postcards, but stamps are expensive.

This Internet Cafe will call the police if we spam from these computers. The police here are called Politie, which looks like "Polite," which makes Gianni and Andrew laugh.

I think I can rip my CD's at this Internet place and put them on my mp3 player, but I do not have either of those with me right now, and this makes me sad. Maybe we will come back tomorrow. Or maybe I can just wait until we get home, which is okay, too.

I have 30 minutes of Internet left and nothing else remotely interesting left to say.

Amsterdam smells like pot.
It is not very hot*.

We watched the Italy/Spain game in a bar, and now I smell like cigarette smoke, and it makes me sad because I am wearing my psychadelic purple scarf from London, and now it reeks of the Malboros the kids next to us were chain smoking.

That is all.

*By which I mean weather.