Dude, thats intense. I hope me Amsterdam story doesnt turn out that scary...
Jizzle Blizzle420 Reviewed by Jizzle Blizzle420 on . My nightmare in Amsterdam Friday night. Stoned and drunk as usual. An acquaintance asks me if I want to go to Amsterdam, and he means right now. Sure, I said, right after I fuck your wife. But he was serious. He got in a taxi, and at four o'clock gave me a call. He tells me he's outside, the flights are booked, the credit cards are getting cold, the taxi-driver is getting sufficiently pissed off, and to get out of bed before he smokes this entire joint to himself. Five am. We're outside the airport, caned and cold. Rating: 5