If Rome were a woman...
She'd be a fine-ass ho with a big ol' badonkadonk. Oh, and she'd have some cheese in her purse. I mean, who doesn't like cheese? That's just how good she is. Nice butt, just skanky enough, and a little cheese for a treat.
Sorry I haven't blogged in a while, but my reasons will soon be justified. Okay, so my regular posts of rants, raves, and quasi-intelligent (or quasi-stupid, or just plain stupid, or stupendously stupid) thoughts are going to have to take a backseat for the next few weeks so that I may bring to you, my loyal readers, my life here in the Eternal City. If you are offendended by any of this, sorry. But as flowers on a hippy, live and let live, man.
Well, my flight left Wednesday from Atlanta (a week ago). Weird enough, the guy sitting right next to me, Todd, was going to be studying at John Cabot University in Rome, too, so we were both like "far out". We just chill out on the long flight with some of the people around us. It was a good crowd. I order a couple of vodka and Sprites from the flight attendant (she was pretty darn easy on the eyes), and I totally forget that the altitude magnifies the effects of alcohol. Derf. The plane lands in Leonardo Da Vinci airport, and I've got a good buzz going off of only 2 drinks. I should have known that moment would be a foreshadowing of things to come. Todd and I hop in our shuttle (aka the new E-class Benz -- talk about style) which takes us to the university to check in and stuff.
After check-in, they take me to my apartment. It's only like a 5 minute walk from campus. It's really, really close to the Tiber, too. It's also HUGE! Holy cow. Actually, make that a dozen holy cows. That number could easily fit in the apartment. Hmm, maybe one of Giant Kitty's friends is called Holy Cow. Anyway, it's 2 bedrooms, has a big living room, a nice kitchen, and a bathroom that could possibly stand to be a little larger (says the guy who's 5'4"). There are 5 beds total, but only 3 are going to be living there. I've got my own room since I payed for it. Totally awesomeness!!!! Anything near the size even in South Carolina (not to mention similarly priced New York or any other large city) would be like a penthouse owned by someone who definitely needs to donate lots and lots to the Ke-Ke Needs a Quesadilla Fund. I was the first to arrive and later met my apartment-mates, Dan and Matt. Dan's from Boston, and Matt's from Atlanta. Matt actually goes to UGA, so I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other during the school year some. Both are totally groovy fellas.
At the dinner that night (or the next, can't remember) for the new students, I met a bunch of cool cats. A group of us leave and go to someone else's apartment. We start this "drinking" game of reading a "would you?" or "what if?" type questions from a book and going around in a circle telling our answers. Where does the drinking come in? Umm, it wasn't exactly worked into the game, so we just kicked back a few. Then we head over to Campo de' Fiore. The night life here is un-frickin'-real. I'm talking about an "oh my gosh, Becky, look at her camel toe" good time. People don't even START to go out until at the EARLIEST 10. It's sooo great. We're chilling out at the Drunken Ship, which is actually an American bar, watching the football game between Greece and the Czech Republic. It was a great game. So we just hang there and get inebriated then head our back to our respective apartments.
The next night, we hit up this absynth bar. I'm not sure, but I think that absynth is illegal in the US and some other countries. It was definitely an experience. The waitress, who must have gone shoppnig at Mighty Fine'R'Us, poured the absynth over some sugar cube-type thing that was suspended over a glass. Then she lit the sugar thing on fire. I was absolutely entranced by it. I was about to have something illegal and on fire. How bodacious! She let it burn out, then mixed it in the little bit of absynth in the bottom of the glass. It dissolved, then she poured more absynth in it. When she was done, it was neon, glow-in-the-dark condom green. Well, I take a sip and feel like my entire mouth is about to melt. What my dumb ass didn't do was add a lot of water as I was supposed to do. It's supposed to dilute it. Everyone is laughing at me at this point. I would be, too, if I had feeling in my mouth. So I add the water, and I take a sip. It tastes just like black licorice -- YUM! Don't get me wrong, it was still the strongest thing I've ever had. It was all I could do just to sip it (oh, I wasn't the only one with that problem). When we leave, that was the only drink I had at that point, and I'm totally messed up. I'm baffled. I felt like I was drunk outside of my body. After that, we go to a really sketch dance club that I swear they had the heater on (the weather here is very similar to South Carolina in the summer). Plus, everyone was jammed in together. It sucked. I left after 2 minutes with some other people, and we called it a night. I woke up at 4:30 am with the worst headache I ever had. My stomach joined in on the fun by jumping rope with my intestines. Eventually I get back to sleep.
The next couple of nights for me were pretty tame. Saturday I took in some of the sites. First stop, the Pantheon. That was an absolutely incredible building! I didn't realize how huge it was! It was, like the butt at which Becky was looking, soooo big! Also, the grave of Raphael (the painter, not the Ninja Turtle -- that Raphael is still alive, Sarah) was inside. Next up, Trevi Fountain. Molto bella! I swear, these Italians have taste. I threw a coin in, so I guess I'm destined to return -- WOOHOO! Next I went to the large monument to Victor Emanuel II/military history musem. Now that's what I call architecture. If you don't know what this is, look it up. It, too, is absolutely huge! The attention to detail in that building was incredible. After that, the Trajan's Forum and the Roman Forum. I could just feel the past oozing in me.
Sunday, I actually went to the exact same places because I had forgotten my camera on Saturday, so I just went to get pictures. I also went to the Colosseum on Sunday. Let me tell you, I have got to get me one of those in my back yard.
If you'll notice, there isn't a long description about anything. That's because I honestly cannot describe it in words. Study all of this in a textbook, it's one thing. Feel it, sniff it, grope it, it's totally different.
Classes are great here. Nothing demanding. Heck, I'm taking photography and Ancient Rome and its Monuments. How bad can it be?
Well, things are going along great until I get a bug in my pants (figuratively, though literally would be kind of cool, too, depending on the bug) last night to go out. So I coerce Matt and Dan into it. Well, there was this hookah bar that Matt had been wanting to try out, so I'm all over it. In case you, my tasty little reader, is wondering what a hookah bar is, I'll tell you. It's a Middle Eastern-style bar where people sit around and smoke hookah. We sit around and have some roommate bonding time. It's all good. It was soooooo relaxing. I also had a pina colada and a banana daquiri to accent the flavor of our hookah. While in the bar, we finally get in contact with some of the other people, and they join us. Well, Matt also has this invitation to this super-exclusive club down here. Owen Wilson and Bill Murray are frequents of this club. So we get all prettied up and head over just to be turned away because they stop letting guests in at 2 (it was 2:10 at the time). Then, we somehow run into some girls from the US who are headed home in a few days. As it turns out, one of the girls actually knows someone who goes to Clemson. I know the name of her friend, but couldn't pick him out of a crowd if I had to. Well, all of us proceed to a pub. Eventually, people leave, and it's just me and the girls who are going back to the US and some Italian guys. We have a few gin and tonics, I give a few lapdances, and I call it a night.
I walk outside and head over to the Tiber to cross and follow it back to the room. Soon as I cut the corner, BAM! There's the Castel Santangelo (it's the castle that's hooked to the Vatican by a corridor in case the Pope gets in trouble). It was an awesome night for my totally messed up self. The light was just playing off the castle. I swear that it was like looking at a Monet through my eyeballs. That's how the entire walk back was. It was the most trippy thing ever!!!! I'm soooo doing that again.
Once I reach the room, Dan and I sit up having a deep philosophical conversation as drunk/stoned/high people often do. Then I hit the bed, got about an hour of sleep, went to class, and here I am.
As far as events, that's all that has happened so far. The food is the greatest! Olive Garden can suck my big toe for all I care -- this is food. And everyone here is so unbelievably sexy! I seriously want to jump like half the people I see. And is it blasphemous if I find the nuns over here even hotter? I think it's their uniforms. Me likie uniforms. I swear, if I'm not a total slut by the time I get back to the states, someone needs to slap the hell out of me.
The End.
Sorry I haven't blogged in a while, but my reasons will soon be justified. Okay, so my regular posts of rants, raves, and quasi-intelligent (or quasi-stupid, or just plain stupid, or stupendously stupid) thoughts are going to have to take a backseat for the next few weeks so that I may bring to you, my loyal readers, my life here in the Eternal City. If you are offendended by any of this, sorry. But as flowers on a hippy, live and let live, man.
Well, my flight left Wednesday from Atlanta (a week ago). Weird enough, the guy sitting right next to me, Todd, was going to be studying at John Cabot University in Rome, too, so we were both like "far out". We just chill out on the long flight with some of the people around us. It was a good crowd. I order a couple of vodka and Sprites from the flight attendant (she was pretty darn easy on the eyes), and I totally forget that the altitude magnifies the effects of alcohol. Derf. The plane lands in Leonardo Da Vinci airport, and I've got a good buzz going off of only 2 drinks. I should have known that moment would be a foreshadowing of things to come. Todd and I hop in our shuttle (aka the new E-class Benz -- talk about style) which takes us to the university to check in and stuff.
After check-in, they take me to my apartment. It's only like a 5 minute walk from campus. It's really, really close to the Tiber, too. It's also HUGE! Holy cow. Actually, make that a dozen holy cows. That number could easily fit in the apartment. Hmm, maybe one of Giant Kitty's friends is called Holy Cow. Anyway, it's 2 bedrooms, has a big living room, a nice kitchen, and a bathroom that could possibly stand to be a little larger (says the guy who's 5'4"). There are 5 beds total, but only 3 are going to be living there. I've got my own room since I payed for it. Totally awesomeness!!!! Anything near the size even in South Carolina (not to mention similarly priced New York or any other large city) would be like a penthouse owned by someone who definitely needs to donate lots and lots to the Ke-Ke Needs a Quesadilla Fund. I was the first to arrive and later met my apartment-mates, Dan and Matt. Dan's from Boston, and Matt's from Atlanta. Matt actually goes to UGA, so I have a feeling we'll be seeing each other during the school year some. Both are totally groovy fellas.
At the dinner that night (or the next, can't remember) for the new students, I met a bunch of cool cats. A group of us leave and go to someone else's apartment. We start this "drinking" game of reading a "would you?" or "what if?" type questions from a book and going around in a circle telling our answers. Where does the drinking come in? Umm, it wasn't exactly worked into the game, so we just kicked back a few. Then we head over to Campo de' Fiore. The night life here is un-frickin'-real. I'm talking about an "oh my gosh, Becky, look at her camel toe" good time. People don't even START to go out until at the EARLIEST 10. It's sooo great. We're chilling out at the Drunken Ship, which is actually an American bar, watching the football game between Greece and the Czech Republic. It was a great game. So we just hang there and get inebriated then head our back to our respective apartments.
The next night, we hit up this absynth bar. I'm not sure, but I think that absynth is illegal in the US and some other countries. It was definitely an experience. The waitress, who must have gone shoppnig at Mighty Fine'R'Us, poured the absynth over some sugar cube-type thing that was suspended over a glass. Then she lit the sugar thing on fire. I was absolutely entranced by it. I was about to have something illegal and on fire. How bodacious! She let it burn out, then mixed it in the little bit of absynth in the bottom of the glass. It dissolved, then she poured more absynth in it. When she was done, it was neon, glow-in-the-dark condom green. Well, I take a sip and feel like my entire mouth is about to melt. What my dumb ass didn't do was add a lot of water as I was supposed to do. It's supposed to dilute it. Everyone is laughing at me at this point. I would be, too, if I had feeling in my mouth. So I add the water, and I take a sip. It tastes just like black licorice -- YUM! Don't get me wrong, it was still the strongest thing I've ever had. It was all I could do just to sip it (oh, I wasn't the only one with that problem). When we leave, that was the only drink I had at that point, and I'm totally messed up. I'm baffled. I felt like I was drunk outside of my body. After that, we go to a really sketch dance club that I swear they had the heater on (the weather here is very similar to South Carolina in the summer). Plus, everyone was jammed in together. It sucked. I left after 2 minutes with some other people, and we called it a night. I woke up at 4:30 am with the worst headache I ever had. My stomach joined in on the fun by jumping rope with my intestines. Eventually I get back to sleep.
The next couple of nights for me were pretty tame. Saturday I took in some of the sites. First stop, the Pantheon. That was an absolutely incredible building! I didn't realize how huge it was! It was, like the butt at which Becky was looking, soooo big! Also, the grave of Raphael (the painter, not the Ninja Turtle -- that Raphael is still alive, Sarah) was inside. Next up, Trevi Fountain. Molto bella! I swear, these Italians have taste. I threw a coin in, so I guess I'm destined to return -- WOOHOO! Next I went to the large monument to Victor Emanuel II/military history musem. Now that's what I call architecture. If you don't know what this is, look it up. It, too, is absolutely huge! The attention to detail in that building was incredible. After that, the Trajan's Forum and the Roman Forum. I could just feel the past oozing in me.
Sunday, I actually went to the exact same places because I had forgotten my camera on Saturday, so I just went to get pictures. I also went to the Colosseum on Sunday. Let me tell you, I have got to get me one of those in my back yard.
If you'll notice, there isn't a long description about anything. That's because I honestly cannot describe it in words. Study all of this in a textbook, it's one thing. Feel it, sniff it, grope it, it's totally different.
Classes are great here. Nothing demanding. Heck, I'm taking photography and Ancient Rome and its Monuments. How bad can it be?
Well, things are going along great until I get a bug in my pants (figuratively, though literally would be kind of cool, too, depending on the bug) last night to go out. So I coerce Matt and Dan into it. Well, there was this hookah bar that Matt had been wanting to try out, so I'm all over it. In case you, my tasty little reader, is wondering what a hookah bar is, I'll tell you. It's a Middle Eastern-style bar where people sit around and smoke hookah. We sit around and have some roommate bonding time. It's all good. It was soooooo relaxing. I also had a pina colada and a banana daquiri to accent the flavor of our hookah. While in the bar, we finally get in contact with some of the other people, and they join us. Well, Matt also has this invitation to this super-exclusive club down here. Owen Wilson and Bill Murray are frequents of this club. So we get all prettied up and head over just to be turned away because they stop letting guests in at 2 (it was 2:10 at the time). Then, we somehow run into some girls from the US who are headed home in a few days. As it turns out, one of the girls actually knows someone who goes to Clemson. I know the name of her friend, but couldn't pick him out of a crowd if I had to. Well, all of us proceed to a pub. Eventually, people leave, and it's just me and the girls who are going back to the US and some Italian guys. We have a few gin and tonics, I give a few lapdances, and I call it a night.
I walk outside and head over to the Tiber to cross and follow it back to the room. Soon as I cut the corner, BAM! There's the Castel Santangelo (it's the castle that's hooked to the Vatican by a corridor in case the Pope gets in trouble). It was an awesome night for my totally messed up self. The light was just playing off the castle. I swear that it was like looking at a Monet through my eyeballs. That's how the entire walk back was. It was the most trippy thing ever!!!! I'm soooo doing that again.
Once I reach the room, Dan and I sit up having a deep philosophical conversation as drunk/stoned/high people often do. Then I hit the bed, got about an hour of sleep, went to class, and here I am.
As far as events, that's all that has happened so far. The food is the greatest! Olive Garden can suck my big toe for all I care -- this is food. And everyone here is so unbelievably sexy! I seriously want to jump like half the people I see. And is it blasphemous if I find the nuns over here even hotter? I think it's their uniforms. Me likie uniforms. I swear, if I'm not a total slut by the time I get back to the states, someone needs to slap the hell out of me.
The End.
posted by QiqJoe at 5:05 AM
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