How time flies… I almost had forgotten to write my usual quarterly newsletter to you all. In fact at first I didn’t think that there had been so many interesting incidents to write about, but as time went by, even though Philip and I did not make any worldwide trips….it was never boring here at the Stadionweg in Amsterdam.
Our Bed and Breakfast business was at a sad “low” for many months. Luckily our B&B is located within walking distance of the massive Congress center the RAI, so we had the occasional businessman drop by, who had to attend a meeting there, but tourists did not really show up, mostly due to a rotten long and cold winter. Out went our savings, what with very high energy bills, and prices in general going up. Then there is the Villa Caprice in Spain to keep up as well www.xavierahollander.com/villa-caprice The Jewish expression: “I wish you lots of personnel” sure is true, both in Holland and in Spain, the monthly salaries of my staff have to get paid. Never have I been so cold for so long in Holland. What with a snowy Easter not that long ago! If I was a tourist I would avoid the slush and snow and wind as well. Now, pretty late this year SPRING is here and I just changed from winter clothes to summer stuff.
What's even nicer is the great amount of totally happy guests, who have left some terrific reviews about our place and the service we give our guests, which surely helps driving more tourists towards us.
Talking about guests. One of the most colorful and unusual people, who appeared at our doorstep was the world famous American body builder Kathryn Connors, better known as a bodybuilder goddess, in short KAT!
We had been corresponding for weeks and as she has been a fan of my books since she was young, she finally booked a flight to Amsterdam from Florida, where she is presently living. At first her travel companion had no interest in coming along, until she informed him that she was going to stay at the house of the Happy Hooker. That name rang a bell right away and he instantly decided to come along for the ride or flight in this case.
I had checked some of Kat’s incredible websites, not knowing much about the body building world, but a bit about wrestling big women … and I had expected a giant lady, full of muscles to stand there in front of our door, but to our surprise she was even a bit shorter than myself , but indeed she was one big massive muscly lady, with a deep voice and a very strong powerful personality: quite dominant towards her sweet companion, but yet with a great respect and warmth for him. We had been emailing quite a few times, so it instantly felt as though we had known each other for a long time. She and her man both were most interesting to talk to, as they had ordered a nice meal to be cooked by my man Philip. Those hours at the table went by so fast… it was great to also be entertained by her magnificent adventurous stories from all around the world, where she had participated in bodybuilding contests. Philip had made some sizzling big steaks, with lots of great veggies, presuming this kind of woman would NOT be a vegan or vegetarian, but a red meat eater and so she was indeed! Kat as she likes to call herself can be seen talking about her colorful life on the YouTube film I attach. http://bit.ly/d9bqNo
She still travels the world extensively and apart from body building she also frequently gets involved in wrestling matches on and off stage with some of her most wealthy and generous clients, who fly her in from all over the world. Even in Amsterdam she apparently had some dates before they came to unwind with us.
One of the people she knew in Amsterdam from her wrestling days was Isabelle, someone we apparently both were acquainted with from the Amsterdam’s SM and wrestling scene. Now that woman is a real giantess, who recently moved from Amsterdam to Portugal, which is the latest I had heard of her. So when I googled her I found her old website http://bit.ly/Y68Oq6
One of the people she knew in Amsterdam from her wrestling days was Isabelle, someone we apparently both were acquainted with from the Amsterdam’s SM and wrestling scene. Now that woman is a real giantess, who recently moved from Amsterdam to Portugal, which is the latest I had heard of her. So when I googled her, I found her old website http://bit.ly/Y68Oq6
I wrote her an email and we got reconnected again after a few years of total silence. Apparently she had wizened up, sold her houses she owned in Amsterdam at just the right time before the market collapsed, moved all her valuable stuff to Portugal as well as her man and assistant. In the meantime she bought a great town house in Portugal, worked on her overweight body by stopping abusing her amazonesk curves with booze, smoke and other things that can damage one’s body. She now does Pilatus, goes to the gym a few times a week, learns to sing fados and has definitely STOPPED taking in all that bad stuff, that almost ruined her in Amsterdam. Now she sent me a picture of herself standing in a fountain and from a distance you ‘d think she is Anita Ekberg in La dolce Vita, stretching her tall sinuous body in the Fontana di Trevi.
Bravo Isabelle. Now we can communicate again, your mood swings are over and we both still respect one another again, besides Portugal is really close to Marbella, where Philip and I shall be for the month of May.
"The clock of life is wound but once,
And no man has the power
To tell just when the hands will stop
At late or early hour.
Now is the only time you own.
Live, love, toil with a will.
Place no faith in time.
For the clock may soon be still."
Legendary Porn Pioneer Harry Reems of Deep Throat Fame, Dead at 65 see some great pictures
http://bit.ly/16KsLUT Here is what Annie Sprinkle, one of my best girl friends and sex goddesses of the seventies and eighties… (We go back a long time, to shortly after my famous Happy Hooker days) wrote about the death of a dear friend of both of ours.
“Sadly Harry Reems passed away. It hasn't hit me yet. Just heard the news. He was my entree into going into porn in front of a camera, when I was script girl on a porn shoot in 1973/4, and he couldn't get it up. (A rare occasion.) I jumped in to the rescue and gave him the best b.j. We had a great time and after that I decided to let them film me, and cross into XXX.”
As he still had a little while to live Annie wrote the following touching story to him via his loving wife.
“Dear Harry, I am very grateful to you, for inspiring my life. I first saw you in Deep Throat, when I worked as a pop corn girl at the Rialto Theater in 1973!!! I was INSPIRED! And the next year I got to know you personally. That was a turning point in my work life that led me on a 40 year journey into human sexuality research of all kinds. I became the first porn star with a Ph.D. in human sexuality, and speak and lecture at many universities. I travel the world doing art projects about ecosex now! It’s been a great life in sex for 40 years. And my on camera sex career started with YOU, Harry Reems. Thank you!
You inspired so many people. I want to say, you can be so proud of your accomplishments. You were great in the Inside Deep Throat documentary film, World of Wonder, which I was also in and so was our friend Xaviera Hollander, of Happy Hooker fame. In fact she was the original pioneer in the sex industry. Terrific that history is recorded and records set straight. You are so special, pivotal in that historic time of the birth of the "porn industry." So thank you for being YOU and for being such an important part of my own life. Remember when we worked on SherLICK Holmes together?! Fun memory!!
I am sending you some hugs, and foot massages, and blessings from the redwood forests near Santa Cruz where I live half the week. Nature is so magnificent! As are you. And if you break through to the other side (as we all will) you will always live on in my/our heart(s) and in history of sex, love, liberation and as an activist who fought censorship. I wish you everlasting love in whatever form it is in. You are a gift to me in my life.
Love and light, Annie
Veronica Vera, Annie’s best girlfriend from the seventies and also a dear friend of mine in New York, seems to have a great misfortune marrying men, who are not long for this world. Sadly, two of Miss Vera’s previous relationships ended with the culmination of her partners’ terminal illnesses. The first was her gay then best friend and collaborator, Robert, whom she proposed to upon learning that he had AIDS and was being treated for Kaposi’s sarcoma. The second, Phil, was a “great love” who succumbed to colon cancer after just five years together. But “without a doubt,” Miss Vera notes, “Stu is the most important man in my life.” Now she married a charming much younger man Stu Ira Cottingham June 2012. They met at a BBQ party in Manhattan where Veronica appeared with a group of her transvestite pupils since she has: Miss Vera’s Finishing School For Boys Who Want To Be Girls http://bit.ly/g87aB
Veronica, who is heterosexual and likes a real man in bed, however with a “femme” side, instantly had a desire to make love to this new man, but only if he would be in drag, so his female side would be present as well. The match seemed to be made in heaven and about a year later they got married in Manhattan, June 2012. A more perfectly happy couple you couldn’t imagine.They partied it up, dressed up for many occasions, however shortly before their wedding it was discovered that Stu had a cancerous brain tumor that needed urgently to be operated. And so ... after quite a few operations, I am very sad to say that they did not manage to keep Stu alive for more than a few months, so he died on April 21 in their apartment in Manhattan in a very peaceful loving ambiance, surrounded by several close friends and aides who assisted him during his last few days,also of course to relieve Veronica for a few hours from being by his side constantly. According to our Veronica, she never felt more loved by Stu, who at that time, could not speak anymore or move his right hand, but they used sign language and he was always appreciative and full of love for the attention people gave him. Until the very end he held Veronica’s hand, then he started heaving his last breath and the nurse, who was beside him, administered some more morphine to his body so he could let go easily and painlessly into the other world.
Veronica is a "transformation facilitator” of transvestites and of men. She helps them pass. This is the third time. She does it well, dear VV.
She's a big love, Annie
And since I could not be there to sit shivve with the family and few Jewish friends he had, I did sent Stu and Veronica the haunting song by Barbara Streisand AVINU MALKEINU http://bit.ly/11Ewfp2 which I was told by Veronica, was indeed being listened to at the ceremony after he was cremated and appreciated by his entire circle of friends.
While we are at it ... since death appears to be an unavoidable subject in my newsletters, it seems more people die more rapidly than a few decennia ago and also often so young... some with more ease and in a more colorful way than others. One of these memorable flamboyant characters from Amsterdam, who is no more, was known as the “Living Statute”, FABIOLA. (Peter van Linden) http://bit.ly/12qP0tE
He was a young man, who was originally a misunderstood country bumpkin of German/Belgian parents, born May 26, 1946 in Germany, but brought up in a small town in Belgium, where he hated the mediocrity of his family and towns people. As soon as he was old enough to flee his parental home he came to Amsterdam, where for years he was a well known rebellious squatter and always protesting at street events. He decided to make his own statement by dressing up as a woman, while also being gay. He did so by using some of the oddest paraphernalia any transvestite could ever think of: like the most unusual outfits, mostly consisting of kitchenware. He could transform himself, with high block heels, pots and pans, kitchen gloves, aprons and lots of real or imitation flowers or anything odd he could lay his hands on, into his own imaginative woman; the queen of glitter and kitsch. He had all sorts of nicknames for himself like Fabiola di Atlantis, Marie de la Nuit, Cinderella, La Reine de Paris and eventually he/she was chosen as the night mayor of Amsterdam. He also for years did great work for his many gay friends, who succumbed to Aids, by being one of their devoted buddies. He was a true republican against the monarchy, but also one of the kindest people, who always could be found assisting charity events and helping to raise money for sick children or Aids http://bit.ly/ZBuNUO
Whenever there was a big musical or theatrical event in town you could count on Fabiola’s colorful presence. His motto was FREEDOM and ART. He was also a conceptual artist, who, for weeks, on end stood several hours each day motionless as a living statue in his Fabiola outfit in the Amsterdam’s Museum of Modern Art.
He died at a fairly young age of cancer … and even held a last interview for TV without anymakeup and as a very sick and pale looking patient in hospital. His Roman Catholic family wanted to have his body sent to Belgium for a simple funeral ceremony, but THAT was NOT what our Fabiola had in mind at all. He wanted a massive and happy party and to be buried at the trendy cemetery of ZORGVLIET on the Amstel (my mother is buried there as well ). However money had always been a problem for Fabiola, so who was going to pay for this? As he had so many friends, including a lot of gay policemen, who were present at the funeral as well and carried his coffin to the grave, the City of Amsterdam apparently came to his rescue just before his death and promised him a funeral for free at the Zorgvliet. And so … here are some impressive pictures of a most interesting ceremony. The coffin was brought in to the entrance of the cemetery by boat accompanied by the Brothers Grimm … two flamboyant gay performers, who can act out any fairy tale at any usually gay activity. Philip and I were there too. It was not meant to be a sad event and Fabiola wanted her public to remember her with a smile on their face ... so hence a cheerful picture of Philip and me. There were quite a few lookalikes of Fabiola dressed to thrill. And there was a sea of flowers spread all around her grave.
And now up to some more uplifting news. Somehow the people I seem to get involved with lately are never just happy go lucky people, but more human beings with a deep dramatic background, who somehow or other have risen above their problems in life and seem to come out a winner in the end…One of these people is the Iraqi refugee pianist called AKO TAHER , aged 42, son of a large wealthy family in Baghdad, Iraq, whose father was a most influential man and Minister of Transport. Ako had several brothers and sisters and the entire family loved music, either to listen to or to play an instrument. All his life Ako wanted to become a classical pianist, so he studied music until the political unrest forced the family to flee his home country in 1992, shortly after he finished at the Conservatory in Baghdad. http://bit.ly/18tSxKQ
The family got scattered around the world. His parents were told to go to Australia and Ako, left on his own, became like a gypsy, walking from one country to the other in extreme poverty, sometimes he went for days without food. Over the course of almost a year he spent time in Turkey, Greece, Italy and Germany to finally arrive in Holland, the country of his dreams. In 2001 he joined some musicians who, like him, were poor Kurdish refugees and he accompanied some of their singers, but never got much further than playing their folksongs on the streets to make a meager living. It was merely to prevent him from starving to death that he played on the streets. In 2003 Ako became an official resident and lived in Rotterdam, where he got offered a job as a garbage collector for a minimal wage. So for years this talented pianist was ruining his hands and his health lifting heavy containers of rubbish. How he hated this horrid work but… at least it paid his rent and food bills. Then one day he was told that his dad had suddenly died. He found out that his father, a very proud and brilliant man, was so homesick in Australia to return to Iraq that, once Sadam Hussein was killed, he and his wife thought the coast would be clear to return to his beloved home land. He had meanwhile written a famous book that had just been published. Back in Baghdad, the poor man was suddenly shot dead in 2008 shortly after a reading of his book.
This news infuriated the sweet emotional Ako, so much that he collapsed and became a total emotional wreck. In no way was he able to do any kind of work anymore for the next 3 years. He was even admitted to a trauma centre for a few years to get over his massive depression. In 2011 his mother died all alone and very sad without her beloved husband. Apparently they had a great marriage all their lives and she found it hard to be on her own, while all her children were scattered around the globe.
Then something miraculous happened in Ako’s life. As he no longer wanted to be a garbage collector on the streets and he had just overcome his 3 year long depression, he got a job at a so called Kringloop shop, a big second hand furniture/clothes shop. He worked there as a salesman till one day someone placed a large piano in the shop to sell. THIS occasion Ako could not let go by and he grabbed his chance to go back to playing the piano again, when there were just a handful clients. Those who, however had a chance to listen to this emotional artist making such beautiful music, were so amazed that they asked the shop owner if he could let this gifted man play one afternoon per week. Great... Everybody happy…. and the management of the shop was certainly more than content as he offered his clients free entertainment and even gave them generously a cup of coffee, while the pianist never got a penny nor a cup of coffee extra besides his measly salary. Ako was just happy to be able to play the piano.
Then when the press started to get a hold of this true life story after 2 years, and invited him to come to their TV studio in Hilversum one afternoon, Ako asked if he could take just a few hours off that day to make his way to the studio for an interview, where he would obviously mention the Kringloop name as well. … Guess what? The director told him: “NO way. You must keep on working till we close shop.” That was it; Ako freaked out and abruptly left the badly paid job. His career as a musician has been taking off ever since. He was asked to appear on various TV shows, like the one where we met him at the Concertgebouw in the small hall. There my Russian actress friend Ala Popova, who told me the man’s interesting life story, arranged for some free tickets for us and lo and behold we were happily surprised to see this most unusual man, who resembled Charlie Chaplin in many ways. Not only was he a smallish man with great soulful black eyes and a mop of thick black hair, but also he had that same kind of rubbery face that could one moment look like he was to burst into tears and another he looked like a clown.
Ako walked onto the stage, totally stupefied by the big crowd... not knowing this would be a real live concert. Nobody had informed him about this. They told him there would be 5 people maximum for the TV show in the audience. They wanted him to participate in a show called De Wandeling, ( the walk) for which programm he had been walking and walking all day long, while the camera followed him everywhere. He was dead tired and unprepared, yet once his slender fingers touched the keys it was like a dream came true. During his opening number of Beethoven’s Mondschein Sonata tears were running down his as well as my cheeks, as it was apparently both our fathers favorite piece of music and it brought back memories of both our dead fathers. Satie, Debussy, Chopin, Beethoven soon followed, but at the end of his one hour concert his sentimental emotions came through in some of his own compelling compositions from his native country. Not only did Ako have a great sad side to his facial expression but he could suddenly switch to a very witty mood . His odd way of speaking Dutch had me wondering if some day he could do things behind the piano like the famous concert pianist/comedian Victor Borge used to do; chat with the public in a funny way and then surprise us all with his great talent.
Earlier on that week Ako had played at the piano of Wibi Soeridy’s home. Wibi praised him for his talents and as a result of Wiby’s enthusiasm Ako ended up in the Wandeling which will be aired on May 4 at the KRO II at 18.20. I am very much looking forward to taking some time off to watch this program and if you get this newsletter before that date please be sure to watch it if you are in Holland or else go to uitzending gemist.
Last week we had a lovely meal at our house and I have invited Ako to join a dozen other performers during my birthday party. I am proud to present him to a totally new public in the hope of arranging some more private concerts as he loves playing for an appreciative audience. And here is a lovely article in Dutch about the discovery of this talented musician!
This is an interesting speech given by Jane Fonda, now well in her seventies, or as she calls it her Third age. I think there is a lot of truth and wisdom in her words, not only for those amongst us who are already in that third stage of life, but also the younger generation, who will soon be pushing fifty …
Sunday afternoon April 21, I was invited by a group of people, (who had been brainstorming with me on two occasions prior to this date), to speak about one of my favorite subjects in life: LOVE. Yolanda Felderhof was apparently the coordinator of this interesting event in combination with Gert Tetteroo, (stitching Henry Hudson 500)
A handsome man in his early fifties, who is known for his talent to put big cultural events together, especially between Holland and the USA. Gert was the quiet man behind the scenes and a close soul mate of Aziz, http://bit.ly/ZBvBce who is one of the most sensitive, relaxed, modest, original and creative fashion designers I have ever come across in Holland.
He had built, with help of half a dozen friends, a great set full of elegant chairs placed in a demi-circle around a stage and several podia with living statues posing in fiery red long gowns for hours, during the entire afternoon. Clothing racks bedecked with colorful and unusual extravagant outfits, both for men as well as women, were a delight to our eyes. Each guest who arrived, mostly all privately invited friends of mine and the foursome I worked with, was immediately offered to wear one of the many multicolored short kimonos and then were told to roam around the various rooms until the show started at 3 p.m. Meanwhile I was draped in a stunning deep purple long sleeved full length festive dress which gave me the feeling of being the queen bee of the party. That color looked gorgeous on me and Luckily I was wearing matching purple eye shadow and shocking pink lipstick. Drama queen as I can still sometimes be, I loved all this fiddling around with me, like fixing my hair, or touching up the cheeks…
Our speech about LOVE was co-hosted by a charismatic man with a great stage personality, called Hans Flupsen, whose face I had seen on various TV talk shows throughout the years. He was one of the easiest persons to exchange thoughts about love with. http://bit.ly/104LrrA
For years Hans has been a presenter, known from free sounds and the maker of various other radio and/or TV programs. We instantly got along like a house on fire
Biologically, love is a powerful neurological condition, like hunger or thirst, only more permanent. We talk about love being blind or unconditional, in the sense that we have no control over it. But then, that is not so surprising since love is basically chemistry
Philia which they saw as a deep but usually non-sexual intimacy between close friends and family members or as a deep bond forged by soldiers as they fought alongside each other in battle. Ludus describes a more playful affection found in fooling around or flirting and understanding. Agape is a more generalized love, it's not about exclusivity Philautia is self love, which isn't as selfish as it sounds. As Aristotle discovered and as any psychotherapist will tell you, in order to care for others you need to be able to care about yourself. At school I was taught the expression that in life one should above all else, learn to love one self. Last and probably least even, though it causes the most trouble, Eros is about sexual passion and desire. Unless it morphs into Philia and/or Pragma, Eros will burn itself out.
The answer remains elusive in part because love is not one thing. Love for parents, partners, children, country, neighbor, God and so on all have different qualities. Each has its variants – blind, one-sided, tragic, steadfast, fickle, reciprocated, misguided, and unconditional. At its best, however, all love is a kind a passionate commitment that we nurture and develop, even though it usually arrives in our lives unexpectedly. That's why it is more than just a powerful feeling. Without the commitment, it is mere infatuation. Without the passion, it is mere dedication.
'Love is free yet binds us'
Love's the one thing that can never hurt anyone, although it may cost dearly. The paradox of love is that it is supremely free yet attaches us with bonds stronger than death. It cannot be bought or sold; there is nothing it cannot face; love is life's greatest blessing. These are some of our thoughts about love.
Of course I also brought up some funny /emotional anecdotes about my passionate relationship of 12 years with John Drummond, about 20 years ago. He was a highly intelligent and witty, artistic and literate man, but also a cynical macho Scotsman, who had been living in Spain for over 25 years, when we met; so he had acquired a real Spanish temper. We spent most of the time in Marbella, where John’s one time kind and brilliant mind turned me on and his strong and passionate lovemaking, kept me in love and lust with him for many years. However King Alcohol started to ruin our relationship and when he was drunk at night, our verbal fights, soon started to look like the script of Who’s afraid of Virginia Woolf or the film War of the Roses.
We battled with words but... strangely enough our fights often were followed up by the best sex I ever had. At one point John yelled at me, as I was infuriating him again… “ Hey, Honey, do you want to start a fight or a fuck.?” To which, I totally worked up and horny yelled back at him: “A fight first please.” Soon after, we were rolling in the grass laughing our heads off and having the wildest sex I ever had by the side of our pool.
Then a few years later, still living under one roof, when our sexual days were almost over, but there was still a very emotional passionate love/hate situation between us, he started to write me incredibly nasty but brilliantly composed hate letters, sometimes starting with: ‘You post-menopausal bitch’ - that surely did hurt my feelings. When I realized he was depriving me of my ID (my identity) and I started suffering a true writer’s block, we really split up.
Many years later, when I was back in Amsterdam, I took some of these nasty epistles to a night of love poetry in the Amsterdam Winston Hotel, where amongst all the poets who were reading their gentle love poetry, I must have shocked the public. I heard a woman in the front row sobbing, while I was reading some of these painful episodes of my past life. Suddenly she yelled out loud: “Please Miss Hollander. Stop! How can you go on reading these hate letters? That’s not called LOVE!” To which I swallowed my own tears... (as it was damned painful indeed to read and relive these violent moments) and said:” Madam I am afraid to say, the opposite of love is not hate, but INDIFFERENCE.”
The first true sunny spring afternoon was a great success. The talk was interspersed by beautiful music on guitar of Matthias Kadar http://bit.ly/15bw7SR. Aziz had told me that this man would certainly add a certain “je ne sais quoi” to our probably emotional talk about Love. Matthias, a Hungarian singer, songwriter, composer and apparently guitar player was everything I had imagined him to be: soulful, emotional, talented and excellent in French, http://bit.ly/10eQ4yT German, Dutch, English, Yiddish and obviously also his native tongue, Hungarian. He could imitate Brel, Gilbert Becaud and when he sang a chanson by Ramses Shaffy it was as if the dead troubadour had come to life again.
At one point Hans handed the microphone to some people in the audience, who also had written some love poems or had a love story to tell. One of the highlights for me was the sudden stage performance of my good girlfriend, the eccentric Russian actress Ala Popova who, when we met 2 years ago, barely spoke a few words of Dutch and now suddenly came up with an adorable story about a couple that loved each other dearly for many years, but suddenly the wife (performed by Ala) said the following to the public (in almost perfect Dutch) : “Last night I found out my husband after 30 years of marriage had turned impotent.” Then Ala threw her long arms in the air and with a dramatic expression on her finely chiseled face shrieked: “‘AT LAST… I am freed from my sexual slavery…. No more sex. Hallelujah…’ The story went on and of course she also portrayed the husband’s point of view and his recently discovered sexual dysfunction, but instead of being sad about it, he too raved about the newly found FREEDOM he had. And how much they still loved each other, but without the sex for all these years!!!! The audience applauded enthusiastically and my love and appreciation for this funny, as well as most generous of friends, Ala, a great and most sensual loving friend, grew even more than before. Bravo.
Dear friends, if you have not fallen asleep yet by now. Here is the latest GREAT NEWS on the home front … I have recently acquired a new VISA FOR MY RE ENTRY TO THE USA. It has been a tough struggle years ago after 28 years of exile as a persona non grata to get a visa, with the help of Larry King , who then interviewed me on his show … I had been allowed to come and go to the US again … Then about 2 years ago my handbag was stolen with my passport in which my return visa for the US had been stamped. The passport was easily replaced, but for some miraculous reason, though I still had a valid visa for 3 years, I was unable to get a new visa stamped in my new passport. I will save you the long details why, but I can only say that the day that Barack Obama allowed 11.000 illegal refugees to get official status in the US, I also received the message that I could pick up my visa from the American Consulate in the next week. The boycot against me had finally ended.So … hallelujah! Philip and I will probably return to New York by the end of this year to meet all our old friends and work on the finishing touches for the musical about my life as a Happy Hooker.
On April 30th, 2013 all of Holland celebrated, mostly clad in exuberant orange colors, the abdication of Queen Beatrix and the inauguration of King Willem Alexander with his charming Argentinean wife Queen Maxima!!! Not to forget their three adorable little daughters. It had thousands of people glued to their TV or massively enthusiastic on the streets to try and catch a glimpse of this dreamlike couple. http://bit.ly/10uq6aM
This was the ultimate party of this year which cost the taxpayers many millions of euros, but the royal minded obviously did not complain about this expense.,, while the protesting Republicans kept relatively quiet in their demonstrations.
This is it, dear friends… This novella should keep you off the streets for a while I hope
Have a great summer.
Love and virtual hugs Xaviera Hollander