Point I: When I accidentally drop things in my apartment, my cat kind of freaks out and positions herself in the corner of a room, as if to say, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHY ARE YOU DOING THAT? WHAT IS GOING ON? AM I GOING TO DIE? I AM GOING TO DIE. I AM SERIOUSLY GOING TO DIE."
Point II: I have been to Amsterdam, and can emphatically say there are a lot of blitzed cats. Apart from men in speedos rollerskating through the city square and multilingual beggars ("What I said was: 'I'm homeless. Can I have some money?'"), cats are the third most insane population. When you're at an Amsterdam coffee shop, chances are there is a cat perched on the stool behind you, just waiting for you to turn around so it can stare at you with those all-knowing, crazy crazy cat eyes. Terrified as the room begins to spin, you stumble out of the smoke-filled cavern only to see more cats rolling around outside in the dirt, taunting you. They might even follow you home, just like that guy in the Vondelpark muttering "goede avond, goede avond, goede avond, please, please ride my bicycle."
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