Back in TO

OK, I have returned, I am back home, so now you will no longer hear me bitching about Europe, now it will be all Canada, all the time. Well I reserve the right to bitch about our neighbours to the south (the US) and world issues too.
So basically I'm just gonna continue to bitch but less about olive oil and water pressure and bitches who work in 5 star hotels and more about everything else. I am sick as a fucken dog and my left ear has yet to "pop" from the flight. I have a real issue with my ears when flying, does anyone know any sort of rememdy for this kinda thing?

Inside Paris Hitlon Part Deux

Sorry I ran out of time telling the story of my IBIS hotel senario. So this is the 2nd part to the posting below; so off I go back to the first hotel (I know I'm an asshole and a cheap one at that) but I go back, this time they decided to pull the real hefer to the reception. I explain, that I cancelled my reservation for bumfuck IBIS and I'm back here and I have a reservation number, she pokes her plump hands at the keyboard and looks at me like I just pulled Jean Chirac's severed head from my bag. She (rudely or should I say very Parisean style) tells me there is no such reservation, I told her about the ogre at the other hotel and that I asked him 2 times for a printout, I don't know why this fact is so important to me, but it is I asked the moustached prick twice, TWICE for the fucken confirmation; she calls him, and the talk French and I know its about me but it's too fast and I'm too tired, but I'd rip her tits off if we were in Italy (vacca stronza), so she finally gets her ass in gear and gets me a room but before that she says: "My collegue, told me that this hotel was too expensive for you that is why you went to IBIS fotre-dereir", I swear if it wasn't true I would have kniffed the bitch. But I said, "yes, until I saw that I needed to mountain trek to the god-forsaken hotel to get there and I have too many bags", I think I said "valises" no less. So she finally gets the shit together, and I had asked her collegue earliar an asked her before too, when can I get into my hotel room, because I really needed to wash the Czech republic and the strip club/strippers off me, there's your answer Amanda, nice people Czech strippers. She had told me the earliest I could get in was 11 because their policy is 11:30 blah blah blah...so once the sow asked me for my 93 Euros, I polietly handed them to her and said, so I can go in at 11, and she looks at me in exasperation and says "go, now" like I've worn her down. Well, I fucken jumped on that like a fat kid on a red smartie and off I was to shower Prague off my body...although the truth be told I'll take Prague stripper sweat to Parisean pleasantries any day of the week. And now, I am in Paris, not Paris Hilton, or the hotel of the same name, but the actual city. I decided even with this slight fever that I have,( I took my last two advil to get here, I took it with a sense of pride, I finished a bottle of Advil on my 2 months in Europe)and I helped an Scottish/Irish couple with 3 kids and a shit load of luggage on and off the train, and I felt like I finally did something good for someone in Europe.

Inside Paris Hilton

OK so I'm currently inside the business section of the Paris Hilton, ok well the Hilton by the airport near Paris, not quite in the heart of gay paris, but I digress...no I'm not staying in this palatial place, I'm staying at the expensive and unrealiable IBIS accross the street, who have not been able to get their fucken internet up all day. So I came accross the street and charmed the front desk lady into letting me use their internet of course i had to buy a card, but I don't mind. I have bigger fish to fry, like the cow at the front desk of the IBIS 2 star cock-knocking hotel I'm at.--hold the phone-- some american guest here at the Hilton, or Funk and Wagner as I like to call it asked if I work here and if I could help her, I'm wearing a nice shirt for a change then the ones that smell of cheap beer, smoke and cum for all I know, once again I digress...I told her "no" but I should have said "yes" and just made shit up: "oh yes the pool, it is on the 16th floor, just knock on door 1607 and an attendant will open for you." Where was I? I have a fever, and feel like shit so I am out of it at the moment, in a swanky hotel, deciding if I should risk my cold and venture into Paris an hour a way or chill at the old Communist block ibis and pack for my flight. So I arrive at this hotel, and I thought it would be 59 Euros a night like on the website but no its 93 Euros, but she told me 10 minutes away there was another glorious IBIS, for 49 Euros and it was one stop on the train from the airport and I'm like "fuck yeah, I don't have to be attached to the airport, just nearby is good for me, my flight is not an early morning flight." I get to this fucken place and I have to go under a tunnel, accross a convention centre, trapeze a parking lot, through a little dirt pass to get to this place and I'm like no fucken way am I going to drag my tired ass, 2 valises accross fucken France for this shit and piss place. So I cancel my reservation and ask him to book it at the first IBIS, and back I go, shame I know, but lesson learned, if you are attached to the hotel fucken stay there. He makes a reservation I ask the bastard twice for a print out and he says I dont need it, and i'm like can I at least have a confirmation number, he relunctantly barks it out in French at me.

I've Czeched it out!

So it is my last few hours here in the Czech Republic and it has been fun. I haven't drunk this much beer since my days in Uni, and if you can fathom this, I am drinking beer by myself and I can't keep up, they just bring pint after pint after pint and it is truly not cheaper but the same price as water.
I'm not feeling 100 percent, I've got some nasty ass cold, I think I know what it is, I haven't rode a bike in 3 days and my body is saying "What the fuck?", it needs to keep moving, and all this beer, it's been used to wine, it is going through shock, not to mentione the food in Prague, holy shit-if it doesn't stick to your ribs, after I am done a meal here if feels like Pavarotti is sitting on my chest. (I said sitting Adrienne, I know about your toasts! And I don't approve of such fetishes). The women here, they either look very slavic or are dropped dead gorgeous (I was given the heads up with regards to this, thanks O') but Jeas'-Louisekova us it is crazy. So in about 40 minutes I hope in a cab that will take me to the Prague airport, which is probably not open, so I might have to wait outside till it does open, because my flight leaves at 6am, I want to make sure I'm on the flight as the company I am flighing "Smart Wings" or so they call themselves are total twats, but because they are Czech they are reall hot twats, but twats nonetheless. I waited for over an hour in line, and without any sort of dramatic effect intended, she tells me that I would have to go at the back of the other ticket checkers line, which has 30 people in it, I'm like "no fucken way" I'm in Charles de Gaulle, and I'm like ok babe, I don't speak french, or Czech and your English is ass-tastic but one thing you better realize I'm not waiting in another line for an hour and missing my flight, so in my wisdom I said that I should be seen by the checker next, and the twats together provided half a brain and said they would alternate between the two lines. The woman had to leave in order to start bording the plane, god only knows where I would be if I had gone to the back of the line. So in order to avoid any twatiness, I'm getting there early. Which means I either sleep in Paris or basically I'm fucked. I have to get my bags from a friend who is storing them for me (when I say bags I mean fucken trunks). BIG SHOUT OUT to Kathy and to the city of Windsor where she is from, she took 2 huge luggages and a fragile bag of wine and glassware by herself to her place for me, that's what you call a class act!

Dance I say!

This is the Fred and Ginger Dancing building in Prague, it's cool because all the buildings here are this old cool style, I don't know if that's the archetecturial term used to describe the buildings in Prague but I bet it's close. This one F and G, is modern but still very congruent with the other buildings and 'cause its at the end of the block and the other buildings (of the old cool style) merge with this one, it looks like this one just drank too much and is spilling over onto the road. Archetecture's Digest can quote me if they would like

Profiling

OK so I saw the Fred and Ginger dancing building it's a cool place if I get a chance I'll post a pic. I am deciding what to do with regards to my early morning flight, I'm a bit of an asshole, there was an afternoon flight I could have taken very nicely, but instead I'm like no let me take the early flight into Paris, spend the night in Paris and really enjoy my last day in Europe. Without thinking about the fact that I have to leave Prague at 4am in order to get to the airport in time for my flight. I also tried to put my sweater on but the zipper was all the way up and when I tried to pull the zipper down to get my big melon through I zipped over my eyebrow, so now I look like Vanilla Ice circa 1992...and I felt so stupid because I was stuck like a fat kid trying to take his sweater off at lunchtime. 'Course that's what happends when the fat kid grows up, instead of the playground he does it in Prague.

My mission of the day

So today I woke up and checked out of my hostel, which I have a scratchy throat and I will blame it on the flea and bag hotel I was staying in not the copious amount of pivo I have been drinking. My flight leaves at 6am tomorrow, so I figure instead of spending 1000kr for a night in a room, I won't even be able to really stay in because I have to take a cab at 4am to get to the god foresaken airport, I figure I'll just hang out in a club or bar or cafe till 4am, I don't know how much of a good idea this is really but since I've got a night in Paris that I will have to pay for I figure saving in Czech might be the best idea.
I also gave myself some sights to see today, the Jewish area of Prague, which is rich in history and importance, but of course the cemetary and other touristic places are closed for the Jewish holidays, so Mazel Tov to my jewish friends for their holidays, and oh well regarding Marco learning about their culture here in Prague. An aside if you need to severely use the washroom (toliet in Europe, and bathroom for my American friends) go to the Four Season's hotel, chat with the lady at the front desk and then have her lead you to the mother of pearl washrooms of Europe, I only wish I had more shit to do there (pun very intended). So since Jewville was closed I went off to see the Giant Horse statue upon the recomendation of a friend I met yesterday in Prague, the one I ate the ass-smelling cheese with. And off I went...

Me and horse

So here are a few tips, when you get off at Florec station in Prague to see the giant horse statue, don't ask the fat lady who sells romance novels by the station to point you in the direction, of the giant horse statue, because she must have thought I asked how do I walk away from the giant horse statue. As well, funny enough I noticed I was the only one wearing sunglasses on the street, I guess this little blast of sunshine was not enough to warrent the Czechs to put on some shades. I am currently walking to The Fred and Ginger dancing buiding" no word of a lie that it is what it is called because it looks like it is dancing.

Horse

This is supposedly the largest horse statue in all of Europe. Funny enough horses scare me.

devil inside

OK as you may have read earliar, I played the devil in a little skit we did, and whilst I know the costume is rather lame, it was the best availble in the little time we had so we have to make due, and let me assure it was the cleanest smelling thing ive worn in a long time.

Pivo

In Czech, the word for beer is Pivo (pee-voh).
And I can only seem to have 3 and then I am smashed.
Went out for drinks with a friend of a friend and had some local pub fare, and the actual waiter asked if I was sure I wanted this beer cheese thing that this friend of a friend recommended I try as it was typical Czech. This is what the waiter says to me: "Are you sure you want that, the cheese smells like shit" at this point I want it even more because nothing says cuisine like shit smelling cheese, at least in Prague you dont step in shit, you just eat food that tastes like it. So he brings this plate and it has a rectangle of cheese, while smelly it just smelt like strong stilton, not quite like shit, but beside the cheese was a pile of mustard and chopped onions, he then poured beer foam over the cheese and told me to mash all the ingridents together, while it did not quite smelt like shit, it certainly looked like it. Taste wise it wasn´t nachos but decent when you are getting smashed on pivo, but now that im in front of the computer and sobering up my hands indeed smell like shit and I can only guess its from the cheese I ate. Finally here in Czech republic they use the letter zed as if it was punctuation, and while Im typing I can't even tell you the things that come up like every time i need an apostrophe i get ¨ so I go to use the word can¨t and i get two fucken dots, the y and z are reversed on the computer and there are all kinds of things to put on top of letters here ěščřžý its fun actuallz

Walking around

Ok so today I walked around Prague like a bitch. I have some great walking routes thanks to the company and boy did I walk, I asked an old grandmother to take this photo and she insisted i smile she kept saying it in Czech, and for the fact that she is a relic I did not slap her and complied, that is why I look so stupid in the photo. I also attached a photo below of the Cote D'or in france once again I have no idea what pose i am making, my head looks the size of a pumpkin on my body.

Prague

OK this is Prague,
everywhere you turn there is a BATA store.
It is very very cosmopolitan I would almost hazzard to say more than Toronto.
I am in the old town and nothing about it looks old. Some great buildings, tomorrow Im going on a walk of the town, today was a write off, but I will say this I was plastered 3 times today on beer, all at different intervals, I asked for a beer in one place and they brought me a litre of it, no joke. Will the drunkeness ever end?

Shout outs!!

I'd like to send a couple of shout outs as I am spending my last few days in Europe, first and foremost to Erin Kell, who helped me get the job that got me here, thanks babe it is been a blast. Jeff "the iron lung" Ironi who without the moleskin he gave me I would have not looked like the experienced guide I became, all the cool guides have 'em and even though my fat ass on a bike may have lead some to believe I wasn't quailified to guide, once I wip out the moleskin a silence falls. And to all the people who emailed me and helped keep me sane during what some may call a 5-star insane time. Prague is cool, but I ate some street shnitzel and let me tell you I shouldnt have. A special morgenschlassen out to the big O for his suggestion I walk around and just find a hostel in Prague, I did and well its 1000kr a night but the best price I found and clean in a Czech Republick sort of way.

In the Republik baby

Im in Prague, Ive always wanted to visit, I found a hostel that lets just say it is abbastanza clean, but a case of Febreeze would do it no harm. Regardless I am in Prague and I will now go to explore explore explore....more news later.

Cote D'or baby Fuck yeah!!!

I just want to say one thing, I rode around Burgundy on a Mountain bike, where the roads dictate you go on a road bike, so I was hauling my fat ass and a 25 pound mountain bike around the and I say this with sincerity the beautiful picturesque part of France, with gold grape vines as they change for fall, just basically a sea of gold. Most of the other guides had road bikes and were riding like it was holland, whilst I made body gravy going up and up those hills...
Once again I want to give a should out to my Italian collegues here in France who are louder, more disruptive and look down on the french wine and coffee, and for the most part food as well, I swear if the French weren't known for being such pricks we would appear to be more of assholes then we appear to be.

France and Italy

OK so there are some things France does well....Bread in France is great, suprizingly not so great in Italy. France has no fucken clue how to make coffee...unless dishwater is what you are suppose to use to make coffee...and I am so accustome to having coffee in the morning from my travels in Italy, that not being a morning person I order it and it is like a cold slap in the face. Food in France is douced with so much sauce it hurts my tummy. And I never thought I'd say this but you can't get good olive oil in this country. Here is another funny thing, my French is good enough to piss people off. Although my quest for a pink highlighter proved very interesting in my use of French but I digress... This evening we did a skit in front of everyone where I played a devil with a huge cock in cycling shorts. For those of you who know my style I was rather tame...for everyone here I was on the edge of good taste, but everyone Enjoyed it. My best line was "When in Beaune, bone it up." However, when I said that "those who eat all the deliciously ripe figs while riding and then spray shit all over the hiway" was met with a lot of stunned faces. I still think it is a hilarious image...people riding their bikes and spraying the highway with liquid shit...speaking of which I better get a good nights sleep or I might mistakingly order some for breakfast, 'cept here they call it cafè.

Andy Lives

OK so we have wrapped up the season and they had this party where you had to come as someone from the art world and I came as Andy Fucken Warhol and whilst I thought the costume was brilliant, many people didn't know who I was, one guy thought I was Robert Smith from the Fucken Cure, needless to say I was not impressed, those who got it thought it was good, you be the judge. The photo I am holding is my boss and I made her into that Marilyn Monroe picture Andy made famous.
First I wan't to say the goddamn French and their need to be fucken different:::the keyboard is all fucked up they got some letters in the worng place so it is a pain to use the fucken thing.

Pot belly

Hey so let me just say that the coffee here in France sucks dogs ass.
I was downing espresso on every highway stop from Arezzo to the Mont Blanc border like a crack addict.
So the company gave us the awesome bike shirt, when I put it on my body it seriously shows off this gut that I have, I know I was never slim jim but this shirt makes it look like I'm 8 months pregnant (no offense to all the Preggies out there) I looked in the mirror and i said to myself I should have relaxed with all the cornettos in Italy and I could have ate the plethora of vegetables in Puglia....but they just got in the way of my pasta. Oh well after 2 months of biking looks like I have to come home to Toronto to work out and lose the fat. Then again in North America I can just blend in with it, 'specially when I'm next to Jeff.
Today they have us biking 25kms through the Burgundy region of France.

I'm Goin' Back to Beaune, to Beaune, to Beaune...

I'm goin' back to Beaune...No I don't think so..
Actually I am. Tomorrow, I am in a caravan of guides heading up to France. This is the best we are going to the Burgundy region of France and I sincerely hate their wine;
Cote de Beaune = swill
Cote de Niut = ass in a bottle
Clos de Bougeot = sour piss
Geuvery Chambertin = utter merde
But regardless...I go to this gathering of guides to fair le fete or something like that.
We have a theme night, come as a figure from the art world, so stay tuned for that photo should be a fucken scream.
I am also involved in an award presentation skit, which normaly would be cool, but a lot of people know I am an actor so you know the pressure is on, and well most of you know how I can go from 0 to raunch in a heart beat. We were discussing the skit and we decided on angels in heaven and a devil (I asked to be a devil) and you know fun little stuff and I pipe in with (no joke): "I'll wear bike shorts and stuff my crotch so it looks like I have a huge nutsack and in each scene I'll keep stuffing it until its this giant set of colossal balls" There was a slight pause in everyones reaction which you kinda know means I went a little too far, but I just thought this gathering could get raunchy from what people had told me about past ones, but I guess there is raunchy and then there's RAUNCH.
We'll see how big my balls actually get.

Shame

All I can say is Shame.

Smashed

This a photo of the moment I was the most smashed in Italy. Yes it was taken the same place where the Ass-Cream photo was taken, but this was a quarter litre of wine later, plus I had a bottle of 50 Euro Graticiaia, yum. I laid flat on the marble bathroom floor for about 2 hours waiting to barf, and can proudly say I never did.

Less vowels

OK so as many of you know the Italian language is full of vowels.
I asked this really hot chick at the hotel what makes my Italian not sound like a native speaker, and she said some inflections and my double consonants, turns out when I speak I don't pronounce the second connonant. FFuccKK oFFFF is all I can say. So because of this defficency I have with this language I have decided to go to a land where they don't bother with vowels. I booked a flight to Prague the Czech Republick where they have words like prvm and smshy How great is that. And finally I'll get to drink some decent beer, I mean once can only get smashed on Italian wine for so long.

Puglian Man

This is me dressed in a Puglian folk costume. I ate a 5 course dinner with very elegantly dressed people, and yes I was dressed like this. I also danced the "pizzco pizzco" which is Puglia's tarantella. I also sang a song called "I will bike ride" to the tune of Gloria Gaynor's "I will survive".

Done and Done

I have finished my last tour of Puglia.
Three words:
Hoo-fucken-rah!

Chewing my Addiction

OK so I have graduated in my ever present ability to feed my addiction. I have turned from chocolate, coffee and advil to a new product, TravelGum, yes it's a motion sickness gum that helps with hangovers (wine) and with just knumbing your tounge it tastes god-awful but I am addicted to it. More to come as I am in the BARI airport waiting for my last group of travellers so that I can say goodbye to them. Hooray my tour is over and to be very frank this group was amazing in every sense of the word.

ps natashia I dont know Im not getting your emails.

Me and my Asscream!

Ok so I mentioned it enough in my blog and many of you asked me about it, this is me and my ass and ball cream. I have one more day left of my final tour. In this photo I was so tanked on expensive wine I barely remember getting home and I had 3 bottles with me and a plank of wood. I was wrecked the next day, I thought I was going to do a Calgary that night in the hotel (only DeAngelis will truly understand that statement.) I digress...oh and finally you see how short my hair is, I mistakinly told the barber in italian to cut my hair when I should have said just a clean up for what i wanted, by the time I had a chance to say anything he had shaved a reverse mohawk into my crown. Needless to say I needed to get plastered.

Amanda Barker

Many people have asked me who is this Amanda Barker I often refer to in my blog posting, Amanda is a good friend and this is her photo. I refer to her because she consistently emails me and reads my blog. Everyone else who doesn't email me or read my blog are simply sonsabitches, you know who you are...regardless although the white piss wine they produce in Puglia it is lightly evervecance which in my book is absolute cat balls, I drink an equally vial red known as the primitivo, which people like. But the true red from this region that is dee-lish is called a Negro-Amaro which you can be assured I will be eloquently ripped on tomorrow at our wine tasting. Shame that part of what I do is to consume copious amounts of wine. Absolute shame.

Extra kms!!!!

So today I biked and I had to do extra kms because everyone I was with wanted to ride an extra 15 km, so I had to bike and look like I was in shape doing when I was about to collapse. In total I rode about 70 kms. But that's not the worst of it, one of the guys I was riding with insisted that I raise my bike seat so my leg would extend more, but it causes my balls to ache and my ass to feel like I've been raped several times by Michael Clarke Duncan.

What keeps me going

I would like to send a shout out to the things that keep me going:
1. chocolate
2. espressos
3. Advil

The Elusive Prague

So i seem to be coming to the sad realization that yet again in my travels to Europe I will not get to Prague. I've only wanted to come to Prague for over 10 years now and for some reason or another i cant make it, this time it is both time and money i would be spending 3 days in prague if i took the cheapest flight which is around 500 Canadian. Needless to say i wont be going to Prague.
On a lighter note, today was nice but i am very tired and must rest my weiry head as tomorrow i do 40 km before lunch.
I must stop drinking wine, i must stop drinking wine.....

Why am I still fat?

I ride 40 km on a bike uphill all the time. And yet I'm still a fat bastard because as you can see I eat orechette and if you look at my crooked eye, you will see that all I do is drink wine. I am totally smashed in this picture. I also found a shower with some actual fucken water pressure. I can't actually believe it, I almost actually shit in the shower just because I was so happy. Then I thought well I probably wouldn't enjoy the hot water-pressure shower if I had to share it with a log of shit. Tomorrow I have a long day...but I am at a hotel run by 3 ladies, one of which I've never seen, but the other 2 are absolutely lovely and I have the best time with them. Plus they constantly flatter me. Course here in Italy there are very few women I don't shower with compliments. It's just common practice here, I don't think Canadian chicks would appreciated like they do in Italy.

2 days. 2 fucken days

So I spent 2 days in a town that for some reason had no phones in the hotel, and all the internet places closed unti 4:20 until 6pm. So I will try to write more after dinner if this internet doesnt go down because of a storm they had 4 weeks ago.
Go figure... Today I ate snails and I thought of Giselle.

Off I go, high ho, high ho

Well, I leave Arezzo today to go back to Puglia, yeah 6 hours driving a van.
But it is all good. My last tour, hoping for sun and fun.

Arezzo

So I finally got into town today in Arezzo as I am in a little suburb when I mention that I am in Arezzo I'm really not in Arezzo. Tonight I went to Arezzo and saw the main piazza where they filmed "Life is Beautiful" the particular scene most would remember is when he lines the street with the red fabric for her to walk on, it's in Arezzo. Needless to say it was truly magical, it had rained so the piazza was pretty empty and it seemed like we had walked into a fairytale.

Addiction

I am happy to announce I only take one sugar in my coffee now. Mark D. knows what a feat that is for me.
I am sad to announce I take 19 Advils daily.

Dirtiest Whore I know!!

Happy Birthday to the dirtest whore I know, Gisella! Happy 25 and many more!

Back in Tuscany

OK so I'm back in Tuscany, I was in the mountains of Lombardia earliar and this eve I had BBQ in Tuscany. Tomorrow I think I'll be in Florence at some point, so that's always nice. As well I had a Donair today in Brescia no less, word to Seiler as she is the only person who I know who can really appreciate a well placed Donair. I start my 4th and final tour in a couple of days and I am looking forward to it, I finally have a cell phone that works and I feel like I know Puglia....but the question is do you ever really know Puglia.

Best question asked to me thus far:
How many bottles of olive oil can you get from one tree?
Just when I thought I knew all there was to know about olives, olive trees, olive oil, olive pressing, popeyes girlfriend, olive bread...

Just a post

So I am in the need to return to Arezzo to get ready for my next trip, I need to wash my clothes and get everything in order, which will prove to be a bit of a task since there is no dryer and I have to either hang my clothes or get to a laundrymatt while they are open. I've also got to plan the end of my stay here in Europe as I would like to go to Prague for a few days and this will be after my jaunt to Paris.
It sounds so jet-setting but really it means hours on a train, for example, this afternoon I will spend 6 hours on a train to get from Brescia to Arezzo. I actually look forward to it as it will give me time to relax. I hope. I do want to give a shout out to Tuscany as we drove through it yesterday and it truly is a beautiful region.

Milan

I am hitching a ride in a van to Milan.
I'm not a fan of Milan but I have a cousin who will pick me up there.
Then it's back to Tuscany the next day.

OK cheese and wine

OK so many of you have been asking me, are you not having fun in italy? Well I am working, so it is not like I am on vacation. And I am working very hard actually. But hard work has never scared me. It is easier to let out my frustrations on my blog then out loud, especially since you can't let out to any clients that Italy can be a frustrating place. So I will say this, tonight I ate stracchino cheese and bracchetto (sparkling wine) and I was really happy. Lets just hope all that jack daniels I had later, helps me sleep tonight.

Maggots and Chocolates

I just ate a chocolate bar that had maggots in it, but I was forced to swallow it down as it was too late by the time I realized it. Let me assure you that maggots are the one meat that does not taste like chicken.

IT's My sTuff!

This is the 5 star hotel I stay in, it is wonderful to look at indeed.
The chambermaids fold all my clothes and move my shit into nice locations and it drives me crazy, when I can't find my advil I'm not a happy camper. Just don't touch my shit, don't touch it, if my undies are on the floor its for a reason. If my ass cream is by my bed don't put it in the washroom. And my favourite is any time we need something done in the place their excuse is always "we don't do that we are a 5 star hotel"....(balls)
I finally added that pic mentioned earliar in "why am I smiling".

Back in Tuscany

I'm back in Tuscany, hoorah!
I ate like a champ last night, you see in Puglia all you eat is vegetables, nasty healthy vegetables.
And as well, I had a litre and half of red so I can barely focus and I'm searching for advil, but it is nowhere to be found.
All my shoes smell like someone died in them. I will be doing accounting all day, and of course that means a total and utter mind-fuck.

I know I know I know

I know many of you wonder why I don't write or why my blog entrizes are so long yet I cannot write a response back. Well let me start by saying I am currently drunk out of my mind as I have finished a trip and finally have amoment to myself. When I am working I spend 12 hours with my clients, yes 12 hours. and southern italy lets just say computers are a whole new thing to them so access to computers is very limited. but now i am in tuscany and should have more time to write and call, one more trip left...love to all.

Hmm uncomfortable

It is really hard when you piss off someone who is "well connected" here in southern italy, fortunatealy im still alive. (I'm not joking)

Why am I smiling?

OK so this photo I took of myself whilst I was riding my bike. I was very happy today because I took no prisoners today. You see here in Southern Italy when dealing with people you've got to stick your tongue in their asses until you've tasted their breakfast and this is when they are working for you, when you are paying these cocksuckers There was this situation that occured in a bar that I always go to and I bring many people to. And I went in to pee, and the prick at the bar, barked at me that the bathroom was for cutomers, and it was a shitty turkish bathroom where you shit in a fucken hole in the ground and he fucken barked at me like I was using the queens private commode. I told him I am going to buy a coffee, and asked do you want me to drink it before I use your shitter? Then I explained that my collegue was having coffee in the bar, so I didn't think it was such a problem and he barked that my collegue didn't pay for her tea, and I'm like hold the horse boss, my collegue would definately pay for a couple of Euros tea and coffee, after all she only walks around with 3000 fucken Euros on her at all time. So I very James Bond-ly said put it on my tab, (as I had 1500 Euros on me at the time.) And then I fucken held the coffee to my lips and put it down on his rancid bar and thought I'll fix his red wagon or fiat or whatever the fucker travels in. So this is where my asshole abilities really can come to light. A table of my guests arrive at the bar ready to eat and drink and I wait for this bastard to come over, to which I say in Italian to him, "is it alright if my guests order in your bar? Will that be a problem for you?" he says no not at all, they then order a huge quantity of food, and drink. To which I'm write by their side barking what they want to him in Italian even though he spoke to them in English and when he spoke to them in English I fucken translated his English to them in fucken English, belittling the fucker. Then I turned to him and asked "is it ok if my guests, use your washroom?" and he got the fucken point. He apologized to me, and I said you know I come here every week, I order food, I send my guests here because the food is good, I recommend this place and you treat me like I'm a piece of garbage (all with a shit eaters grin on my face) so that my guests don't realize I'm about to step on this guys throat. He apologizes and does the classic italian back peddle and says, "you know a lot of people use our washrooms, and a lot of bikers use it too and don't buy anything." I stopped him and said "not my guests, not my guests at all." and he fucken knew I was right and sometimes thats all you need. Well as if that weren't enough, some twat of all twats, tried to ream me out at a resteraunt, after I dropped some serious fucken coin in the place. I've had my balls in a twist with the way things work here, and now that every hotel calls me signor Marco, (mister Marco) I feel it only right if my alter ego this Signor Marco, don't take shit from nobody. So after this bitch starts balling me and my collegue at a certain point I'm thinking enough already shut your pie hole, so I interupt her mid sentence (you don't do that here) and say "you know you're right, it won't happen again, but realize this that sometimes stuff (signor Marco can't say shit) happens." and she tried to continue and I interupted and said "yes thank you I must go." And a tootle fucken doodle to you.

I hate to admit it

OK so somethings are perfectly acceptable in Italy that one would not dare do in Canada. One thing that I started doing early on my trip was wearing my sunglasses on the top of my head almost like a headband, their was no avoiding this one on the bike, but you see you get comfortable and you end up sporting them like that everywhere in stores, walking around the hotels, etc...
The one I tried hard not to do was the sweater around the shoulders with the sleeves tied around the front at the neck. It's just everyone here does it and well it was cool but not yet cool enough for me to put my sweater on, so I gave in and wore it like an Italian. When in Puglia I guess....

Terra Del Sole

They call Puglia "Terra Del Sole" which means land of the sun.
The should call it "Terra Del Coglione" meaning land of Balls as it pissed all over me on the bike today. Seems every time I ride the sky opens up on me. Needless to say I twirnt smiling today. I was standing on a bridge pulling bamboo out of the friggin ditch in order to clear some road signs. I felt like I was in some jungle in Vietnam. All I can say is thank heavens for Advil and ass and ball cream which kept my snast dry.