My brother came last weekend, he came out for his birthday party. It was really lovely to see him.

He had two friends staying near him on Warmoestraat, so he also spent quite a lot of time with them, but I probably spent more time with him than I have in the last ten years.

He was out to enjoy amsterdam's dodgier side, and he certainly went for it. The best night was actually his party night. Going and seeing all his friends, who'd made such an effort to come out and see him. And he got quite messy quite quickly which meant I almost had to carry him home at 1am, and then we had a couple of hours just sitting on my sofa's, smoking a spliff, and chit chatting about life, and giggling at one another. After a big fat chicken burger on the way home (we were both really hungry). I ate half of mine, he ate his and then mine too.

I think I got kudos on sunday night for letting his friends come over and sit around on my sofas to do shrooms, it was so much better than their hostel.

Anyway, it was really nice to spend time with him, and I forget what a lovely fellow he is. It's strange that he's now 29. Luckily I can still pretend he's younger because he still acts about 19 to me...