It’s not news that the English band I Am Kloot has an unfortunate name if you speak Dutch.

So it takes some serious cojones (so to speak) to wear one of their t-shirts around Amsterdam, like the bloke I saw in Centraal Station the other day. I like to think maybe he just didn’t realise, and at some point someone is going to tell him and maybe it will be the start of something beautiful.

Yeah, hopeless romantic, that’s me.