We’re going about this ‘no-pants style.’ I haven’t felt this liberated since the wall came down. Ooh, and then there was that time when my old boss molded a penis and a vagina out of some exothermic surgical cement and handed it off to me for role-play and it almost burned through my gloves. That was pretty neat too.
Anywho, I don’t much feel like typing, so here’s a semi-narrated graphical representation of what you missed.
Grandma takes a quick, "Don't you wish you were nicer to me when you had the chance?" fake death nap.
I've taken you to Florence before, so we'll skip over a few days.
A high-speed stroll on the Autostrada through the lands of Tuscany finds us in Venice. Birth place of bridges, Catholicism, and Venison.
Having just sort-of randomly showed up, we didn't really have any place to stay. Luckily, we likes us some drinks. Also, we happened upon this little boutique. Where we would spend a night trying to fall asleep to the sound of the Grand Canal traffic.
Taxi gridlock.
Our third night found is renting this little appartment. This is the Master Bedroom, or Grande Chambre, in Italian. Looks small, but there's more to it on the left.
Like the loft. In which, the bed was too high up for my taut, pre-teen, Italian farmboy-like frame. Its proximity to the rafters, though uncanny, required the use of hard-hats.
Alas, a peaceful nights sleep.
Anywho, I don’t much feel like typing, so here’s a semi-narrated graphical representation of what you missed.
Grandma takes a quick, "Don't you wish you were nicer to me when you had the chance?" fake death nap.
I've taken you to Florence before, so we'll skip over a few days.
A high-speed stroll on the Autostrada through the lands of Tuscany finds us in Venice. Birth place of bridges, Catholicism, and Venison.
Having just sort-of randomly showed up, we didn't really have any place to stay. Luckily, we likes us some drinks. Also, we happened upon this little boutique. Where we would spend a night trying to fall asleep to the sound of the Grand Canal traffic.
Taxi gridlock.
Our third night found is renting this little appartment. This is the Master Bedroom, or Grande Chambre, in Italian. Looks small, but there's more to it on the left.
Like the loft. In which, the bed was too high up for my taut, pre-teen, Italian farmboy-like frame. Its proximity to the rafters, though uncanny, required the use of hard-hats.
Alas, a peaceful nights sleep.
