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About Amsterdam

What gets me goat? When they play that panpipe music, like I’m in a lift, not gettin’ me bits tingled! Gimme some Bowie, some “Rebel Rebel,” get the vibes goin’. Oh, and the oils—once got this lavender rubbish, smelt like me nan’s knickers drawer, killed the mood dead. But when it’s good? Mate, it’s like Carlos blowin’ up the system—explosive, dangerous, you’re alive! Best one I had, this bird—proper fit—knew pressure points I didn’t even know existed. Had me screamin’—in a good way, yeah?—like, “Blimey, I’m optimized now!”