What happens in Amsterdam…

NOT an exaggeration.

Based on my travel journal from 9/15/2006.

On our way back to the hotel we passed a mushroom shop, and I really wanted to check it out.  The shop was amazing inside, designed to look like the inside of a giant melting tree.  They had just about every kind of mind-altering drug you’d ever want, and the mushrooms were all laid out in a case with little cards detailing what kind of trip you could expect from each.  Some were high on visual effects and energy, others gave more of a “brain high”, and others were a mix of other things.  After talking with the sales guy, who seemed very knowledgable, he recommended “philosophers stones” (psilocybin truffles) since we had never taken shrooms before and they usually gave a smoother experience.  So I bought two packages of those, at 13 grams each.  He fetched them out of a refrigerated case — apparently it’s only legal to sell fresh shrooms in Amsterdam, nothing dried — and we headed out.

We stopped by New York Pizza for dinner (piping hot and ridiculously huge slices), and then went back to the hotel and took a nap before launching into hyperspace!

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From the mouths of bears

Well, that can’t be good.

I am not easily scared by a movie these days. I went through my teens on a steady diet of horror movies and Fangoria magazines, and over the years I’ve absorbed tons of scary movies/books/shows, so few things really get to me anymore. But a scene in one particular movie really hit me a few years ago, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had such a visceral reaction. Not only was it terrifying in a visual sense, but on an existential level as well.

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