we ate morracain and then drank in a place that used to be a hospital but is now a squat. but not just a squat, a squat bar and lil restaurant.
i dont understand the whole deal but its what i said it is. and it made you feel like you were in bladerunner.
the dj spun crazy industrial trip hop which at times was mixed with smooth jazz but oftentimes mixed with jackhammers and white noise. in some places you have to shoot the dj, and in other cases you just have to bribe him, at this place i bought him a beer and pointed at the smooth jazz disc spinning and he got the message.
bicycle mark’s roommate is lebanese but seems even more worldly than that.
the bathroom at the squat bar was immaculate. i wondered who youd call to fix the wc if something got stuck in there, and youre just a squatter.
then john americablog asked can a sqatter squat someone elses squat?
but apparently there are rules among squatters and thats the second rule.
the first rule?
dont clog the head.
its 527am and im determined to wake up at a reasonable hour and check out some van gogh and rembrant, especially since this is the 400th birthday of my man.
im addicted to shawermas. tonight i got a late night one served with a pita, like a civilized person would want it.
so let me say a few things about this hotel. its swanky downstairs, and i like the room cuz its warm and its dark and theyve got this trippy revolving door that makes you feel happy.
the shower is good, the toilet sticks out of the wall like youre in a spaceship, the bed is fine etc
but if you have a do not disturb sign on your door handle why on earth would that make someone think that it would be ok to call you saying housekeeping would you like more towels?
what if miss amsterdam would have still been sleeping?
do not disturb should mean no knocks no calls no esp
i should run every company in the world.