Since I saw Paul Walker yesterday, in Amsterdam, I’ll be writing this blog in English. In case Paul reads it. It would be so unfair if Paul really likes to read my shit, and it’s in Dutch. And we all know how Google Translate can mess up your sentences.

Before yesterday my Paul Walker obsession was pretty peaceful. No weird symptoms. Quite non-obsessive. Maybe the obsession wasn’t even there yet. But now it’s a whole different story. Can’t get him out of my head. Even thinking about buying some huge Walker wallpapers. Let me tell you how my obsession went from tiny and cute to fuckin’ crazy.

A few weeks ago I was told that hottie Walker would be present at his own premiere: Fast and the Furious 5. Also known as ‘Fast Five’. It didn’t really get to me. I just replied the invitation like it was no big deal. Like I was emailing a nerdy schoolteacher. That normal.

But after yesterday it wasn’t so tiny and cute anymore. Paul and his ‘Rock’ friend Dwayne Johnson would really join the premiere. I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high, so I had a little chat with myself. I told ‘me’ this: ‘Jamie, it’s very crowded here in Amsterdam South-East. Everyone knows that Perfect Paul is coming. The red carpet is filled with photographers, groupies and other wild animals. It’s a freakin’ jungle out there! So get your friend and get your spot in the cinema before it’s too late. Why even wait for Paul when you can’t even grab his ass? So forget the whole hugging-Paul-and-take-a-lot-of-pictures-with-the-guy-idea and grab a seat. Get yourself some tasty popcorn and don’t even think of him anymore.’ The me-chat was working. I sat there in my comfortable cinema chair, just poppin’ corn. Child does the laundry (Dutch only).

My calm mode didn’t last long. ‘Cause fast & furious cars came out. Lovely Paulie himself would enter our room to announce the movie. If my heart was a jukebox it went from playing a sweet ballad to a heavy metal tune. He started to talk. As I started to slobber. A lot. His voice, his look, his everything. Paul is like the most gorgeous white dude I’ve ever seen. Rick Brandsteder, normally quite handsome but standing next to Paul and Dwayne suddenly so ugly, asked Paul a question: ‘Tell the people in this room why they have to see this movie.’ Walker looked a little shy and said: ‘Well, I don’t know! You tell me guys. Why do you have to see this movie?’ Before I knew, I talked back. Why did I talk back. My groupie alter ego came out and I yelled: ‘Cause you’re hot!’ Everyone laughed and even Paul showed a little smile. But I don’t know if the smile was meant for me or the hot Brazilian dancers. I’d like to think it was for me. So please keep me in that state of mind. If not, you’re definitely a hater.

After talking about the ‘fine weed here in Amsterdam’ Paul en Dwayne had to leave. The movie started. I’ve never enjoyed a film as much as this one. Not only because I looked at Paul’s face on the big screen and thought about the fact that he could walk in here any minute again, begging me if he please can sit on the chair next to me, if not, my lap, but also because of the cool effects. The great action, the beautiful women, the wonderful city Rio and of course the Paul close ups.

Obsession change of plans: who’s Wentworth Miller? I’m sticking to Paul now.