I was at the grocery store last week because I needed some lime juice for the “nonalcoholic beverage that can be mentioned online.”
This was on sale, so I bought it:
Let us drink, let us drink. (Limeade, of course!)
I love Italy and I love Italian food. Most people seem to love Italian food and the Mafia. We can talk about the Mafia now because this is obviously Sicilian lime juice and we all know that the Mafia runs all the businesses over there.
And as you can see, the Mafia even imports its lime juice from Peru. Don’t get me wrong, now. The juice was excellent and I’ve heard good things about Peru. I just doubt that the Mafia is unethical enough to deceive consumers with a geographically inaccurate brand name.
Looking for adventure?
Climb to the top of St. Peter’s Basilica and bring your binoculars. You never know what escapades you’ll discover when you peer into all these windows:
Visit the Vatican and experience sin first-hand.
I wonder if the ever-so-vigilant Vaticanites complained when those unsightly apartment buildings started blocking people’s view of their churchly treasure… or if they decided to (euphemism alert!) look at the bright side of life.
People often throw around the word “relic” without giving thought to what they’re saying. First off, there’s the word’s religious version that refers to the shard of a saint’s bone… among other things. Then there’s the use of the term to describe something really really old, like this:
When in Rome, roam like the Romans.
One might call this a relic of an ancient civilization.
And then one might refer to an Apple IIe as a technological relic.
And the oldest teacher at your child’s school might be designated a relic as well.
Your dishwasher might also be a relic, though not because of any added respect because of lengthy experience or significance in history. You probably call it a relic because it’s dead.
And at that point, the word “relic” loses all of its meaning… unless we’re talking about something I own that no longer works properly. Then it’s a relic because I’m special and, because of that, it’s special too.
Or it would be special if it weren’t broken…
Paradise is beautiful. For instance, there’s this place near Sorrento, Italy:
The only ingredient that’s missing is pasta. Salami would also be acceptable.
But there’s a story behind all that beauty. People have to work hard to maintain those pristine beaches and unpolluted waters. And those workers eat pasta and sausage and salami and all that good stuff that no one cooks up quite like the Italians.
And it’s rare to see photos that take that background action into account. This one does. Those waves you hear aren’t the ocean. They’re the continual flushing of all those portapotties. Where do you think all that wonderful food ends up?
It was late. It was cold. We were cold and we were too tired to be horny. We were on the threshold of returning to our hotel and we waited and waited and waited and waited and waited and waited and waited and waited and waited.
Our home away from home, or so it seemed…
These are the memories that last a lifetime but we almost never think to photograph them.
Unfortunately, everyone thinks the sights are beautiful.
Welcome to Venice, home of semi-romantic gondola rides and hordes of tourists. Unfortunately, those rides aren’t as lovely as you might imagine because those bridges and shores function as streets. And there’s people on them there streets and they’re all looking at you, or so it seems.
And so you look back at them. Nothing gets seafaring lovers in the mood quite like watching a bunch of people eating, walking, and carrying their loot around. Especially when it’s cold.
And it’s even colder on the water… cold enough to make anyone frigid. Pun intended.
This holiday season…
If your kids are misbehaving and your relatives are obnoxious and your shopping list just won’t go away, may you be full of the one true important thing:
and lots of it…
However, you’ll have to buy the industrial size wine barrels yourself…