"spaniard, you shoud see the coliseum"

After literally blowing away 17 Euros worth of internet connection on YouTube (who knew Data transfers mattered when paying that much for economy class internet?), I'm back with some info while Mike sits on the shitter, threatening to throw me off my own computer. I just heard him struggle with a poo hahahah. Eat shit Bart.

Italy has been fantastic. I touched the Coliseum. I could honestly end this post with that. It was one of the maybe six things I want to experience before I die, and I did it only days ago. I actually broke off a chunk, took a picture of the broken wall, and kept the piece. some day I'll chew your ear off with my explanation. I also saw the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, as well as the Last Judgement.

Yesterday, Mike and I sat on a beach below Positano , drank Peroni, and looked at bare tits. Life was really tough by this point. I also had the opportunity to photograph a nice series of Italian kids on the beach, once the bare-chested nudity subsided, of course.

I experienced really bad jet lag for the first four days, which is something very far from my character because I'm normally quite adaptive to changing time zones. Around 4 p.m. here in Italy (we're six hours ahead of the Ontario time zone), I'd crash and wake up again around 1 in the morning, exhausted.

The land here is mysterious, and I haven't quite wrapped my head around the people, cuisine, or the language. Seeing as I had some lag at the beginning of the trip, I'm just starting to get into the swing of things. I haven't had a glass of wine yet, in 6 days.
The itinerary looks really exciting. Tomorrow we visit Pompeii. I know what happened there, but am not sure what it looks like exactly. I want to see some crusty bodies! haha. Holy shit this is informal. Speaking of informal, here comes the mind flood. Fuck this sentence shit.

I miss my friends. All of them. Specifically, I miss freestyling at 26.5 Glasgow and kissing Tess. She's pretty. Call me a cheesy motherfucka : don't give a fuck.

My beard is getting hefty, and I'm debating whether or not cutting it off. Please, no comments by those who sponsor my beard.

Honestly, if you read this, email me your address. You'll get a postcard. If you haven't, or I haven't asked yet, here's your opportunity. I'm very good for sending postcards.

I had heat stroke-dizzyness today. Skipped out on a dinner and watched Party All The Time for the most part. Faxe followed.

The lemons here are the size of grapefruits. TGRI would have something to say about this. Anyone who catches this reference is a nineties guru!

Don't be afraid to send me texts people. Recieving them is free. I have my phone on several times throughout the day.

We only get CNN and BBC here in Italy. Buncha dry mothafuckas. GAAAAWWWWWW.

I'm excited to see my band again. I've been listening to our demos for our new record while on this trip and am so bloody excited to record this summer.

Time to go finish my 1L can of Faxe, which I bought for 2.50 Euro.

bondark presents part 2

yeah, yeah, yeah. haircut. budapest.

the scarlet exit

Finally, after hours over hours of flight, layover times and copious amounts of medication I sit in bed overlooking a beautiful courtyard in the largest city in Germany. Yet there were some stories along the way.



The flight out of Toronto went off without a hitch. I slept on a bench in the terminal and apparently twitched and snored like crazy to the point where onlookers were laughing. If this was something new to me I would be embarrassed, but it happens all the time.

We flew with British Airways. Forget anything I've ever said about any airline company, because BA was the shit. Highlights included Steak and Yorkshire pudding for dinner, on command movies and music with touch-screen televisions, awesome bathrooms and incredible service from charming old Brit fucks.


After an hour in the air the dinner service rolled around. The ladies in front of me ordered wine with their dinner. I said "say what? free wine?" and the mouse began to run on the wheel in my head. I quickly thought to tell my mom and aunt to order a serving (almost two full glasses) of California red each. I asked for a serving myself of French Bordeaux and got two bottles. The man mentioned that if I needed any more to just holler. Oh, I hollered.

I spent the next four hours watching Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace (I had seen neither at the time, so I thought it suitable to drink tons of wine and watch both back to back). Long story short, I drank about eight of those bottles of wine and thoroughly enjoyed Casino Royale. Quantum of Solace was good, except it was a bit watered-down in comparison to the super-fresh approach to Bond filmmaking that was Casino Royale.

I've never been that drunk on a plane before, so I wasn't ready for my usual drunken antics and ideas. One idea occurred to me when waiting for the bathroom while standing near the emergency exit. I really, really had the urge to pull that big handle that lets the door fly open in case of emergencies. I decided not to only because the lady came out of the shitter.

I never really considered the time zone changes, but about an hour after I drunkenly passed out I was awoken to a sunrise and was served breakfast. What!! I was just about to have the nap of my life and I was being stuffed full of strudel. At that point it was 1am in Toronto and I was already up again to start another day. Lest we forget, I only slept for four hours the night before to wake up for the stair climb at 6:30, so I've been running on fumes ever since.

On the way down my sinuses really began acting up to the point where I couldn't even pop my ears to relieve the pressure. So, from about 10,000 feet and descending, the pressure began to build and there was nothing I could do about it. When we landed in Heathrow I couldn't hear a thing out of my right ear. Combine this with a red wine hangover and you've got yourself a cranky ginger cunt. I snapped back at a security lady when was asked to empty my pockets and I threw bills in, to which she snapped back with a gnar-Britch accent. I kept my temper to a simmer and walked away.


We waited for our next flight into Berlin, and the entire time I was yawning and chewing gum in hopes of popping my ears, to no avail. The nice thing about traveling with my mom and aunt is that they have a medication for everything. My prescription relieve my pressure was Tylenol Day Cold, Gravol, and Buckleys De-congestive washed down with a ton of orange juice. So here I was again ascending to 11,000 feet with so much pressure it felt like somebody was popping popcorn in my face. My ear drums were constantly cracking by themselves, along with my nose and throat. Remember how I mentioned that getting my hand re-aligned was the most painful thing yet? This was a close second. I wanted that plane to crash so badly just so I could get out. Even as I sit here now my ears are still full of fluid. Hopefully this will be gone by morning.

Aside from flight, everything has been peachy. Germans are cute and the English were annoying. A one hour layover was good enough for me. Germans just seem to float around in their own little bubble and smile a lot. The English have annoying accents and a "fee-fi-fo-fum" mentality about them.

I went out for dinner with Charlie and his wife Nancy. I've known these two Yanks for a while so it was nice to meet up with them again. At the restaurant I decided to go for the most German-style dish I could possibly find. I settled on a Pork-Knuckle with Dumplings and Sauerkraut. That's about as German as it gets, along with a dark beer. I lay here in bed now at the Hilton Berlin. Somewhat of a rough start but there's no more flying the another two weeks so I'm sure I'll be all cleared up by then. I'm also sure that the reason this entry is so long is because I've taken off my splint and can type like the wind blows.