Undeclared Money, black as coal

Holland, Amsterdam,
16-04-2010.

No more twenty Euro for a day's work at the animal farm for children where I do my volunteer's job as Magriet informed me last week, keep the shits from the social wellfare system here in Amsterdam happy, give them the idea I do something usefull for the local society, something to deserve the right to my Social dough...twenty Euro a day, black as coal - undeclared you know - and a 68 Euro bonus a month on top of the aforementioned social dough...

Not that I care a dog's shit, my situation as a person in charge was not really my THING anyway...skip a day and return to my old status as a traditional volunteer...more time at the Anne Frank House selling my games means less stress and more fun but probably with the same money saved up at the end of summer..sitting in the sun making and selling Mandala games, do my social duty telling these darned tourists the way, respond positively to their multitute op questions...where is the Flower Market, where is the Noordermarkt, where is the Anne Frank House - hey mon, you are standing in front of the fuckking place - another way of fullfilling the dream ideals of of an employee the Amsterdam social wellfare office for a semi-professional unemployed person like me...and make a small bundle in the process...

So back I am to my status as a traditional volunteer, back to one day a week and all the sunny days sitting outside Amsterdam's tourist hotspot Numero Uno, spotting the pick pockets for the neighborhood's finest and pondering about my fucked-up mind and crazy street life when not having customers or tourist questions to answer, distractions so wellcome to keep my Farang mind from going back to Pattaya, duties to fullfill that keep my crazy gray-colored brain mass from being invaded by the perils and harsh life style of Thailand's hardest working girls, these ladies of the night that shared my bed with me in the New Star Guest House for long and happy weeks, warm days and even warmer female Asian bodies to keep me from getting bored, good food at cheap prices and no constant begging for money from the Westerpark Brotherhood of Stupid Drunks - I somehow prefer the Knock-Knock-Knock of hungry Hot Mommas on my hotel room door to the annoying ringing of my house door bell by thirsty beer boozers from the park here in Amsterdam....

Yeah, well, the latter will be my lot I guess for the next nine or ten months or so...too bad indeed!!!