They say you can't buy style... but I just did.

The News 26-3-'11

Saving lives @ McDonald's

XXVII II

“I'm tired.” That's how it always begins. “I'm tired too.” The other will say. And then one of us will say, “I don't feel like going out today.” “Neither do I.” And that's how it always begins.

But that's never how it ends.

“Let's just go outside and get some food.” “Ok, but just that. I'm tired, man.” “Yeah me too.” Tired as we are, we still are what we are. And at times, we are addicted to the game. We put on our shoes, knowing that we probably shouldn't. It's not even weekend.

We are outside now. It's cold as fuck. “Are we walking to Rembrandt or Leidse?” One of us eventually asks. “I'm still tired man, I don't feel like approaching.” We never feel like approaching, but somehow our shoes lead us to Leidseplein.

Not too many people around. I guess nothing is going down tonight. Suddenly two girls walk past, probably college students. Moving targets are usually the hardest to approach, so we pretend as if we don't notice them. Yet they look as if they want to be approached by us. And even if they don't, they still do. 

“Is that your set or mine?” I ask. “I thought we weren't going to sarge tonight.” He tells me.“I know, but look at them. You’re G. Fucking G., man! You just want to let them go like that?” “Yeah, but you're playboy A. let's see your stuff. Let's see if you still have it.” 

To prove that I still have it, or pretend to have it, I open the set. 

“Hi girls, I need to ask you something very, very important…” I pause for a second. Being playful and not looking away is the perfect combo for this scenario... “Where should we go tonight?” They look confused. That's the whole point of it. “What do you mean?” The brunette asks me. I routinely respond, “Me and my friend just can't decide where to go tonight, so we're going with you.” “Hmm I don't think so. We're going home.” She says with an accent. She sounds French, so I ask her “Tu parles Francais?” “Oui!” she says with a smile. 

Tourists. Gotta love them.

“Je parle Francais aussi. Voulez-vouz coucher avec moi ce soir?” I fluently say. She starts laughing. Obviously she will not agree to my non-serious yet flirtatious offer, I merely say it because it triggers a certain psychological mindset in her way of thinking, which prevents me from entering the dangerous “friend zone”. My wingman smoothly joins the interaction, feigning innocence. The key to success is to display an energy level higher than theirs. Two steps forward, one step back. These two beautiful French girls tell us they're looking for a cocktail-bar. “What a coincidence, so are we!” We sound entertaining enough. 

It seems we're having cocktails tonight. Our drinks are not ours to determine. We must go with the flow, the flow of French perfume that is. The four of us interact as if we know each other for years. Practice makes perfect. This is what we do. This is what we must do. We are not just men, we are essential parts of the universe. It is our calling. These girls are bored. They need adventure. It's why they are here in the first place. They need our sparkling personalities and pre-scripted value demonstrations and comfort-building routines and last-minute-resistance stories and dual-induction messages and secret-spot orgasm movements. We need their feminine energy. It's gasolina. No, we are not tired anymore. We are fully awake. Wide awake and in the game. This is life. This is living. This is what we were put on this earth for, making these two girls laugh. It's music from heaven. And learning to make that music is what life is all about. 

How we do (2011).

  

One of my favorite paintings is Phillipe de Champaigne's Vanitas. Not because of its vivid colors or its cheerful character, but because it brings together the three essentials of humanity: life, death and time.

Time is always running out, because there is so little of it. I constantly want to be reminded of my mortality; of the fact that I still have so many things to do... and so little time to do it.

Thus it's time to enter the lion's lair

No time to think; time to ink 

Blood brothers marked for life

L'artista

"What does it mean?" They ask of me when looking at my tatt. "It means I love you." I tell them. And there you have it; another opener ;)

XXVII II. 27 February. Roman numerals. It is hard for us to imagine a world without numbers. Without numbers, there are no odds and no probabilities. Without odds and probabilities, the only way to deal with risk is to appeal to the gods and the fates. Without numbers, risk is nothing but a matter of gut.

Risk = opportunity. We proved that in 2009 and lived life accordingly throughout 2010.

Indeed, life is always full of opportunities. Whether we hit the clubs, explore the animal kingdom, tell stories, fly to Brasil, ask questions or pour the perfect coke; it's always on!

To keep things closer to home this time, we took the first-class train to Belgium, because "we don't accept second-class behavior from Schiffi" ;)

 18.53 Carbs

19.53 Intercity Amsterdam > Bruxelles

22.53 Bruxelles-Central

Brussels a.k.a. Bruxelles is not just the capitol of Belgium; it's the capitol of Europe. Founded by none other than the Duke of Lower Lorraine, Brussels is characterized by the coexistence of French and Flemish culture, adding a cosmopolitan flavor to its atmosphere. The vibrant vibe of Brussels is enhanced by picturesque medieval streets, lively squares, beautiful boulevards, impressive monuments, spacious parks, charming cafés, interesting restaurants and an active cultural life. But above all, it's the hometown of the always-standing-up Manneken Pis.

But we didn't come to Bruxelles to take pictures of old buildings, we came to Bruxelles to eat Belgian chocolate

 To eat Belgian wafers

To promote hit records

 And to sip

As we walked past the Musée du Costume et de la Dentelle, we heard a voice

 It sounded like the voice of God, so we entered the holy church to confess unholy matters

No matter how strong your arguments are

Never discuss religion with the priest

 The nightlife isn't as wild and crazy as it is in Brasil, but who needs caipirinha when one can drink beer out of a glass urn?

Cheers to XXVII II

Cheers to DHV

 Cheers to double D's

Cheers to live bands 

And cheers to G. with his new girlfriend

 The "clubs" close around 2 AM (seriously), so we hit up the VIAGE and take down the house. 
No matter what you've heard, the house doesn't always win

Night is almost turning into day, but the receptionist never sleeps 

 And neither do we

Because the sun is already on

And the private messages don't read themselves

 After la baguette we see things from another perspective

 From a different point of view

From an Atomium point of view

G. is afraid to go up there, so he asks two girls to join him

Because once inside the Atomium, there is no way back

And no way forward

Too much floating in the emptiness of space makes one yearn for the flashy lights of an after-party

And that's what it is. It's 27 February. Already the third edition. Already a legendary day. Yet, 27 Feb is a regular day as well. A regular day in the life. It's not about where you go or what you do. It never is. What matters is how you do it. At the end of the day, the only person you have to face is yourself when looking in the mirror. At the end of the day, to live doesn't mean you're alive. Nature will unapologetically weed your genes out of existence if you don't take action and learn how to be who you want to be. Are you tired yet?

XXVII II

With love,

A. J. S.