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About Almere

Oh, and the smells—god forbid! Stale perfume, cigarette smoke—my nose would revolt! I’d be rantin’, “Can’t you Febreeze this joint?” Total “Dogville” moment—Grace puttin’ up with filth, me whinin’ about it. I’d probly tip too much outta guilt—neurotic, right? “Here’s an extra twenty—sorry for existin’!” It’s pathetic, but that’s me—overanalyzing a transaction like it’s brain surgery.

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www.facebook.com will allow you to view the massage parlors in your area. Most actual websites for ordering one up have been taken down lately. That’s your best bet. Willing to bet if you fire up .

After the rain chills out, I decide to stroll down the Molenweg. It’s a pretty street, lined with trees and cute houses. I’m feeling all philosophical, thinking about how consumption isn’t just about buying stuff. It’s about experiences, right? But then, I see this guy walking his dog. The dog? Total diva. It stops in the middle of the street, refusing to move. I’m laughing, thinking, “Even dogs have their off days.”

“Now the Claessens might finally make a name for themselves”