Friends romans countryman lend me your blog!

Rome, a place for lovers, gladiators, ruins, and the occasional awkward dinner. Waiting 45 minutes for the best pizza in Italy is one thing, pretending not to look forward for the next 45 is an entirely different entity in itself. If you have ever been to a busy restaurant, or a New York restaurant for that matter, you know that you are packed on top of each other like mattresses on a pea. Now, although you are basically in eavesdropping distance of anyone in the restaurant it is assumed that you and your dinner partner will face each other...then talk about what everyone else is. Not the case in Italy however; the pizza was out of this world, the awkwardness was too. As we finally had our number called we were about to sit down at a table that currently looked like this - .I. - naturally we figured we would take the other 2 spots and although we would be very close to our new friends, we would be generally be able to ignore there presence. However, when they saw that they would be sharing a 4 person table with...wait for it because its going to blow your mind....4 people! They decided to move next to each other in a formation looking like this - :I - which meant that not only did Laura and I have to sit next to each other (already a big no-no in my dating book) but we would have to spend the entire meal staring across the table not at each other, but at these two neophytes who seemed old enough to have been around since the very first pizza. Well, first off they didn't speak English, so naturally I did all I could to make fun of them to there face. Turns out its not as funny as in the movies, they kinda just sit there and stare. So here we are :I:, laura and I on the left side trying to make as much conversation as possible in order to make the already awkward situation seem even more so for them bc it looked like we were having such a good time...we weren't. Then the pizza came, which was amazing, however their eating habits were not. Multiple times I had to stare down at my own plate in order to avoid seeing either one of them slurp cheese into there mouths with long strings of mozz still stringing from there plates. Not to mention that the old man sitting across from me took and drank my beer by accident mistaking it for his. Needless to say it was my last sip of alcohol that meal. I'm a slow eater in general, but I am pretty sure the woman had finished hers before I had finished cutting mine. I can't know for sure, but I think they realized there mistake, at least their silence did. It was a Roman tragedy fit for the stage, 15 years from now I won't remember the pizza, but ill never forget the meal. Moral of the story kids: Never sit next to your date at dinner, not even at the counter.
Here is a picture that I fake took of my pizza but really of them.




Why do I lose all the things I love? First my fan, then the pillow, now my favorite water bottle. I'm gonna tether laura to me otherwise I may never see her again. Overall though, its been a pretty devastating summer for my possessions.

My 10 Levels of devastation:
10 -loss of a family member
9 - a close friend
8 - an important pet
7 - your first love (or any other subsequent love that broke your heart)
6 - a choke job in the playoffs of your favorite team
5 - a crushing loss in a fantasy playoff
4 - a favorite article of clothing lost or ruined
3 - missing a train or bus by seconds
2 - a crushing regular season fantasy loss
1 - losing your favorite pen

Some devasting events from this summer:
Hi C pillow - 7
Gatorade water bottle - 5
Travel fan - 3
Doug Brien 2005 playoffs - 6.5 (not the summer, but that one really hurt)
Holland's world cup finale - 6
Lebron to heat - 3*
Oil spill - 3.5 (I'm a sucker for the brackish waters)
Dennis Hoppers death - 4
Eva Mendez S.EX tape - 10


*I saw my first Lebron heat jersey today. It was 5 sizes to big on an Italian male who probably doesn't watch the NBA. I'm nervous that I'm classroom is gonna be filled with Miami Cheats jerseys. Also Chris Bosh Raptors Jersey is still going for market price in athletic stores here, so really do they actually know what's going on in the NBA? I also mention LBJ later on in this post, for someone who has completely flip flopped on his LBJ approval rating, he gets mentioned in almost every post (sigh).

I doubt any of you were actually going to see "Step Up 3-D" but if this movie review doesn't convince you otherwise I don't know what will. Even if you have no interest, such as I, the review itself is absolutely hilarious and a worthy read.

Pete Zahut Says Part 3D Is 'the worst fucking movie ever made!

http:/www.aintitcool.com node/46003

So I sweat, like a lot, and Europe is hot, like very. I'm ok with this, but nonetheless I sweat like a fat guy chasing a cupcake up a hill in 90 degree heat. My sweating however is very concentrated though, my arm pits remain mostly dry as does my neck and chest, but I do have a specific area where I produce what I am calling "The sweat belt". It starts right below my rib cage on both sides and slowly inches its way straight across my belly right above the button. On a good day you can spot the belt clearly in any picture I take. It doesn't help that I usually rest most of my cold drinks on the belt which makes it stick around that much longer. Luckily my sweating is usually very controlled and that's where it stops, occasionally creeping to the back though on extreme days. The SB however is something to be proud now that I noticed other sweaters around me.

Here is a comprehensive list of people sweat through their shirts just like I do.
The artichoke - a nice heart shaped sweat mark right in the middle of the lungs.
The neck sweat - a ring around the neck of both sides of the t shirt, the true mark of a sweater.
The pit stain - self explanatory
The back drip - more gross than it seems because not only does it cover the entire back, but it also has partial neck sweat potential.
Box O sweat - where the sweater fills their boxers with straight perspiration. The nastiest of all sweat related activities bc its unseen yet in the worst area.

Now that you have seen all contestants, tell me, is the belt really the worst thing that could sweat to me?

There's nothing quite like seeing something out of place. Now as you know I am a sucker for outdoor music, but what I saw yesterday doesn't exactly qualify for neither music nor normal. So let's take a page out of Daniel Tosh's playbook and break this picture down, minute detail by minute detail in this weeks blog breakdown. (Sorry no video)







As you can clearly see, she is playing to an audience of about 8 people, and even they seem bored. Nobody is even attempting to stand, and if it wasn't for the comfy plastic seats she may have had nobody. I think the entire front row may be checking their cell phones.

The lead singer is wearing some sort of plaid pajama type uniform that hasn't been popular since 199-never. Not even retro snowboarders try and pull off that look. The last time I saw someone rock an outfit like that they were being used as a rug.

Naturally she is singing Sweet home Alabama, yet she is neither from Alabama nor has any connection to why it would be sweet to her. Between her broken English and crocs I am failing to see the connection here. Even the locals don't seem impressed as I can hear them say (translated by laura) "she must be singing for tourists bc otherwise she would be singing italian songs." Which by the way she interludes her linguistic skills in between songs by acknowledging that the only people who understand the song have no idea what she is saying. I can't understand what she is saying during or after her songs. That's ok, because Meat Loaf is a perfect choice for her to follow up with, followed by Eric Clapton, she is destroying every greatest hits cd of classic rock I listened to in high school.

The classically trained string quartet doesn't seem to be very amused either, but would you be? You spend your entire life in order to watch someone else butcher songs that you didn't want to play in the first place. I think I see the keyboardist putting on a confederate flag bandana on his head for effect. "Should we start with Carmen or the Ninth symphony?" "How about 'Help' from the beatles?" The entire set was a cry for help, except nobody was listening.

Finally, her voice is being overpowered by the turbine to the left of her in the water. If they really wanted to drown her out they should have put the mike there. In fact, the music would probably be more soothing and audible.

But Italian Catherine Keener you gave me something to blog about, so for that I thank you.


On our way home the other night we ran right into a Roman student protest. When asking a cop what they were doing his response was "they're just students sitting there." Nope they are definitely protesting something. Since I love chanting and the prospect of both free food and revolutions I joined right in. Now, I speak no Italian, and only understand words that describe food, but a free sandwich is a free sandwich. Even after a 120 second google search I still have no idea what 200 degrees (their protest name) was protesting, regardless my chants went something like this.

"I'll chant anything! I'll chant anything! Give me a sandwich! Give me a sandwich! Do you have anything with ham? Do you have anything with ham?"

I took my salami sandwich, didn't see any noticible impacts being made, and did what I never got a chance to do in college but never got a chance to do: fight for something I really never believed in the first place in hopes that a riot would ensue.


The Coliseum was beyond amazing. Besides the fact that it has survived an earthquake and daily tours, it is one of the most amazing wonders of the world left standing. I still can't believe that I was standing in the same place that Jumper was filmed. I mean Hayden Fucking Christianson. Wow, dreams do come true. Fun fact: Did you know that gladiators had to win 5 battles in order to be given freedom, but rarely survived all 5. I think Russell Crowe would actually have survived all 5 but instead of a shield he would have to be given a phone.

Sistine chapel was also one of those awe inspiring wonders but I have nothing interesting to blog about it so ill just say it was amazing. Although I'm not gonna lie, when I saw the famous god/man painting all I could think about was George Michael, Buster and George Senior from Arrested Development. TV and movies has stunted my intellectual growth beyond repair.

Asians tourists are really funny. That's it, they just are. Next time you see an Asian tourist look for these noticible attributes and try not to chuckle.

•An overpriced hat that was clearly bought on vacation that is trapping 80% of their body heat.
•A sun umbrella. I really don't understand the point of these, but nevertheless they are ubiquitous.
• A rolling camcorder that captures every possible image. That they can film. Little do they realize that no one else, including themselves, want to watch any of this horrible footage.
• Sunglasses that do not fit their face whatsoever and make them immediately look ridiculous and unnatural

If you spot a tourist not doing one of these things please report them to the nearest I love "city name" kiosk.

The longest neck ever seen:



Believe it or not that is not a Roman statue.


There is a law that allows cats to live in Rome without disruption in the place where they were born. If you look carefully, you will see hundreds of wild cats climbing the walls of the Colosseum, the forum and sleeping among the ruins. Now all we need is a law allowing Johan to live among these cats and will be set. Over/under on when I go from normal adult to crazy cat/dog lover (aka Will Lang): age 39. I'd take the under.

So Croatia and Italy is known for having delicious ice cream, actually gelato, and I indulge myself at least once a day. As much as I love it, I do not love the cones, and never finish them. I also hate pigeons, I mean I hate those damn rats with wings. I scold young children when they feed them and generally kick or punch them whenever possible. However when I finish half of my ice cream I always crunch my cone in the hands, do my best Lebron James impression, and yell "FOR THE BIRDS!!!" The ironic part, the birds that I am feeding are most likely pigeons. Merda.

Book count: Johan 7, Laura 15.

Next stop Florence.

Caio. Caio.