So here’s a link to a shload of digi-cam pics from my trip to Roma! Almost all of them were taken by my wonderful wife, except for most of the night shots (because I had a steadier hand).
This is perhaps only half the digital shots, but they’re the creme, as it were. Once I get my film shots, I’ll try to post more.
Remember, more deets from the trip coming soon!
My wife and I are back from BEAUTIFUL Roma, Italia. In the coming days I’ll have a few specific pieces dealing with the various aspects of the trip.
Stay tuned!!!
Holy craplacticus, Batman – watch this video now. Great music, sweet Samuri Jack – style video.
Alright, tomorrow my wife and I head out to Rome. We’ll be gone for about a week and a half, but when we return, I’ll have plenty of stories to tell…
Stay tuned!
A Pair of Pathetic Peripatetics is now live. It looks boring, and there’s barely any content, but that’ll change soon enough. Enjoy!
Soon, oh yes, very soon, my brother Mugs and I will be creating a new website called “A Pair of Pathetic Peripatetics.”
This website will stay up as the content of the new site will likely be more focused on discussion, issues, humor, or who knows. The content will be jointly edited by my bro and I, and I will attempt to work on some kind of graphics for the site (yeah, I still have to work on this one first).
Here’s to another grand web adventure!
Well, for the 3 people on the whole of the ‘Net who’ve read my past several posts (Rome excluded), you’re probably wondering what that was all about. So I’ll explain it to you, as dryly as possible (for added effect).
When I was in high school, one of my best friends, Robert, and I wrote a short series of near-stream-of-consciousness prose. And if you knew anything about what goes on within our respective conscious minds, you would run in terror.
At any rate, I was digging through an online archive of the web (kind of circular, don’t you think?) and came across my old website from high school c.1998. This waste of webspace contained one small but excellent section dedicated to said brain-drippings from Robert and myself. I promptly copied them to a text file for posterity, and decided to post them on this website to once again share the demented nature of my friend and me.
That’s it.
I’m preparing to make my first international trip in my life – on Tuesday, the 18th of this month, Valerie and I are heading to Rome.
I’m pretty psyched about this for two reasons – mainly because I’ve never left the country, but also because I’m heading to the land of some of my ancestors: Italy!
I’m gonna go nuts over the food, take loads of pictures, and buy everybody’s birthday/Christmas gifts there. I’m going to stand in speechless awe when I stare up at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, or walk around the Colliseum. I will try coffee in Italy even though I don’t like it. I will drink wine. I will butcher the pronunciation of many places, names, and menu items. I will return with a sore neck from having turned this-way-and-that to absorb everything I walked past.
Eccellente.
Incidently, Fred Hornblower slipped on a banana peel while riding the roller coaster to Texas. While sliding across the waxed recesses of linoleum carpeting, Fred flatulated magnanimously(I can’t spell worth carp). Meanwhilst, Papa John’s Pizza exploded spontaneously shouting, “You’re so incorrigable!” The shining of the sun certainly does illuminate the tombstones across the street, thought the rubber chicken. The prowling feline(the name brand of certain types of canines) spontaneously started jamming with his harpsichord , then he got jiggy widit. Brick outhouses don’t smell like roses, because the walls have teeth. We all know that cattle excrement feels odd between skyscrapers. The rat just had a healthy litter of deer. He is right close to this rubber chicken. So is Jerge (pronounced Jerge). The dandruff skipped from flea to flea with exponential forces of equilibrium, producing pungent smelling J curves on the third moon of Nike. The Impropability Ball just grew catnip under its toes within its armpit jam. Nasal fairies met for a Smurf convention with Bo Diddly, and decided it wasn’t a brilliant idea to serve tofu slices to acid tripping marmasets. Belly button lint was fed to the rubber chicken. Nose cherries abounded. The chimes rang at the wedding of the neighborhood weightlifting housewife, Cloie and the Naked Cowboy Man.
Mole woman with her flagellum extended, dove into a pool of concrete fish nuggets. After displaying their cool ability to make armpit noises with their teeth, the nuggets burrowed into her skull with a 5/8 inch toenail bit, causing green corpuscules to exude from her pocketbook. At that very instant, the Improbability Ball shot out of nowhere, and ressurrected Sam the Barbarian. Sam, while eating green eggs and ham, crashed into a mental block of worm slime. While pondering the meaning of cheese, Mole Woman discovered Dweezil Zappa falling haphazardly from a petri dish. The bacteria in the petri dish decided to make Mole Woman queen. They lived happily ever after in pestilence and chunky creamed corn.