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About Amsterdam

So, I’m chattin’ her up—nervous as hell, sweatin’ like a pig. She’s all, “What you want, sweetie?” I’m thinkin’, “Great Scott, don’t screw this up!” She’s got this tat—snake windin’ up her arm, badass. Reminds me of Fincher’s dark-ass style, y’know? Like, this ain’t no fairy tale. Fun lil’ tidbit: some pros use code words—like “roses” for cash. Sneaky, huh?

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After that, I stroll over to the Eelderdiep. It’s this lovely little stream, right? I sit down for a sec, just to catch my breath. And then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, chasing a soccer ball. He kicks it, and guess where it lands? Right in the water! I’m cracking up, but the kid? Total meltdown. I mean, it’s just a ball, dude! But hey, I get it. I’ve had my fair share of meltdowns over lost things.

How a WWII soldier's initials carved in a tree connected a Dutch village to Toronto