Dutch Pizza

-The Dutch really like their cake moist.-It’s acceptable to bike home singing on the top of your lungs.-No one else thinks the word ‘Dutch’ sounds kind of dirty.-Beanbags are like a bad relationship, look good but are so hard to get out of.-The birds in the Netherlands are FEARLESS!-Gouda makes everything better.

-New Yorkers don’t believe in sleeping.-A rubber doesn’t rub things out.-All Americans can back flip.-Cake is acceptable for breakfast.-If you suck on the subway steps you won’t get HepC, it’s totally fine.-And your health insurance won’t cover you for that either.-Strangers love to tell you their life story.-Brunch hurts.

FOREWORD:Dutch Pizza is a combination of my state of mind from the influences of living in New York City and moving to the greatest village in the world…Amsterdam. If you are holding this in your hands, then you are one of a small group of rad people who I thought was important enough to be given a copy.Before you move on, here are a few facts to help you understand the differences between American and Dutch culture and the parallel of these two cities. My only aim is to bring you a brief moment of enjoyment and to try and explain the bazaar, yet amazing world I am living in. P.S some of the spelling mistakes in this were on purpose, others...not so much...PP.S Merry Christmassszzzz???

NEW YORK

AMSTERDAM

“It’s just like milk but it comes from the tap”27/08/12

“You can’t touch me, Im a like a unicorn, Im a figment of your imagination”19/03/12

So I was standing there, confused why I swore I just heard the bakery lady say, “I’m a unicorn, I’m just a figment of your imagination”.

“Whaaat?”

That was when I realized she was just Dutch. I came back to the moment to take a bite out of an incredibly moist muffin (I want to use the word enigma in this sentence). It was like a cloud floating into my mouth, I tried to act cool as I then took a nibble out of a stroopwaffle while waddling back to my bike. I loved the fact that I looked extra ruthless because my legs were all cut up and bruised due to my bike riding ability (similar to an 8 year olds). But I’m not talking about those super fancy European kids; I’m talking about those southern hemisphere folk.

I jumped onto my bike and peddled out onto the Kinkerstraat, another rider yelled some amazing jibberish at me, but being the ignorant alien I am I just smiled and yelled “yeah number one bitches!” Europeans love it when you act like a tourist, I must say after I painted my bike red and glued this cool Mac bike sign onto it, the locals became extra chatty.

As the sun was slowly setting I violently turned into Vondel Park so I could perve on all the half-naked-gelled-up-Dutchies. After six months of living here, I still thought the word ‘Dutch’ sounded kind of dirty. Dirty in a “I want to descend on to your bed like batman, Ron Jeremy type of way” not like a old lasagna that’s been sitting on your kitchen bench for three days way.

“fuck moose, there fuck’n assholes”03/13/12

“Who has a ruler at a birthing?”-28/10/12

“fuck moose, there fuck’n assholes”03/13/12

“I don’t smell like sweaty ass crack!”-01/07/12

I could feel a sweat moustache forming on my upper lip, while realizing I should have made more effort with that thing called exercise. I parked up and gently lay Sally on to the grass. The smooth park air caressed my neck, as my spine began to tingle. I laid back and grasped the ground in a ferocious manner, that was the moment I realized I should stop making my story sound 50 shades of grey-esque and explain that Sally is the name of my bike.

“Hallo mevrouw, wilt u deze fiets? €10”“Whaaaaat?”

I looked up and could see the words “ten euros” escaping the lips of a moderately dressed man, holding a blinding silver bike. which had one intimidating mountain bike wheel.

“Oh yea, whatevers, it’s fine ay”

Assuming that he didn’t just offer to lick my toes, I scuffled through my bag (aka Narnia) and handed him the money with an awkward smile. He dropped the bike an gunned it away in a pair of gross old Asics yelling “DDAAANNNKKK JEEE WEEEELLLLLL”. He may have had the body of a 40 year old, but inside he was truly a 13-year old Jewish boy at his basmistfa, acting as if he was being forced to speak to his auntie Esther.

“I like tacos, but shit put some beef in that shit”

-07/03/12

So I was left standing there, a sweaty yeti with two bikes. I locked sally up (she likes it rough) lit a white widow and rolled off on my new bike. Home was next on the agenda, as the sun grew dark over the disease infected canals and the tourists started to evaporate, I was reminded that moments like this truly made this city.

“I want to descend onto your bed like batman!”

01/01/12

“WATCH THE FARK OUT!” - screamed into the air. I saw myself uncontrollably heading into the direction of a bunch of drunken Aussies in a paddleboat. As I hurled myself off the bike I could see it fly into the canal. The sound of laughing Australians shrilled as the ripples of the canal water swallowed the bike.

”Woah! That was like a casserole of gold!”-28//11/11

“I could hang about five babies off each of my thumbs”01/11/12

This is the point in the story where someone has to die (JK Rowling has nothing on me). Knowing that I could never live another day with out my new bike, I dived into the canal screaming “There’s not enough Peanut butter in the world!” I let go of all control of my limbs and let the Amstel river digest me. As I sunk away into the rat infested water and felt my lungs fill with disease, I thought to myself...”Parisa, I’m sure you could come up with a better ending than this”...

“...and then the next thing you know, you wake up in North Korea”-01/02/12

Parisa Rezaei-Abyaneh.10/12/12

Dutch Pizza