Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Bitch gitcha mind right / Lemme talk to em

In Rome sitting buttass on my bed next to my in-house fishtank with the complimentary rubber ducky on the bed. Legs are sore from days walking. Think Ken is already asleep in his room across the hall. We have done a lot a lot. It has been too good. My twitter feed follows some of what happened. Too tired to replicate it here. Tomorrow we storm Rome some more, get blessed, eat $$$$$$$$$$$$$$.

Email is backed up beyond my eyes, trying to catch up. Laying low in this baller hotel for a while and zoning.

The toilets here flush with huge buttons on the wall that you can regulate how long it flushes. That makes sense.

Americans might really be swine, they do kind of stick out and seem hokey here, Italians are nicer than Parisians. I repped today with my Mickey Mouse shirt that says Florida on it and the girl at the gelato stand put a bauble on my huge ice cream tower with Mickey on it too. Super.

Venice is a heckuva a place, you have to be careful tho, on the 2nd night there we got really drunk and missed the late ferry back at the usual spot and were too blasted to figure out where the one that did late night rides was. We seriously walked halfway across Venice stumbling sweating trying to find it. The streets there clear out at like midnight. Blank as a blank. Nowhere nobody. So strange, corridors. We finally laid down on benches and slept in a small park sparely laid with trees. Woke up an hour or so later and got on a boat that still didn't go where we wanted, finally Ken just bought a 3rd hotel room and we crashed from 4 am to 10am


I have eaten some shit I would never have eaten, raw veal, squid ink, weird crawly things, fucked cheese of spores, things i couldn't say what they were, Ken does it big

Ken rules, i owe him a lot for making this trip happen, like beyond



I am tired of typing now


Keith Montesano said...

Everything sounds amazing.

Hope you're keeping some kind of notes, mental or otherwise.

Are you ever going to come back us lowly non-traveling Americans?

Straight Outta Compton,


Ryan Downey said...

when i need to get my mind right i eat chinese buffet. just sayin.

Anonymous said...

Irony: In the wild waters, squids use their ink as self-defense.

Italy in the summertime is a sweaty hot beast. Check your back pockets for greasy fingerprints. If some toothless old leather offers you some vino, drink it like the last fires are burning.

Anonymous said...

If you're still in Rome, you have to go to Shelley's grave, man. It's imperitive.

Anonymous said...

I'm a little mad that you didn't visit Wilde's grave, too.

Anonymous said...

I'm a little mad that you didn't visit Wilde's grave, too.


hi keith, home, yes, we need to catch up. i'll holla

ryan, fuckin forrreal

michael, check and check

hayden, graves are real, it was hard to forget not to