matching wok marks

guess which one's mine? even after R's was supposedly `sunburned.' if only we lived ina more litigious country, i'd be rich and the waiter who placed a sizzling wok on the back of my hand would be deported.

Valentino vs. the Emperor Augustus

after-dinner stroll with a certain lifesaver the other night. and not a lifesaver in the minty sense. was regaled with stories of sarah jessica parker, uma thurman (``she just goes to the gym a lot'') and my favorite designer, zac posen (if only because of his name and his bulldog of a mother.)

still have yet to enter the hallowed halls of the Ara Pacis to check out the famous Peace dress, but am hoping that since it's just down the street i will have reason to pass by during opening hours. either that, or something unfortunate befalls our fashion correspondent.

quintessential crowbar moment #539

what HP wrought. the prosecco begun at noon didn't help. neither did the shock of the Z surprise after she'd downed most of the prosecco and fallen down a flight of stairs. and also flung her way off the bed, sustaining various bruises that, as usual, i had nothing to do with. here shown conked out for a good 3 hours saturday afternoon, before waking up to scoff a pizza of her own and a half of mine

g + toto

`non so da dove viene questa confusione'
i don't know either, but this man is a comic genius.

L in her sweet-toothed element

cheers darlin'

the consummate actor, sans jamjarring sidekick. an evening of laughter instead of tears. only disappoingin in that respect

venue for a night of eschewing the TOMATOES

Q: pick any two people, alive or dead, to speak a weekend with on a yacht

the yacht being paramount

drat the postal service

don't think the postcard has actually arrived in the mail but a sneak preview. you really don't know what you missed.

errr...the musical, part II

and, for a final taste of utter rapture, CLICK to check out 30 seconds of flubbed lyrics and F's arm in the familiar two-fingered salute.

the 10-minute whiplash tour of Bologna

`this used to be my favorite fountain as i child. i loved that the women were all clutching their breasts. tee hee!'
pal, the women are also sans underpants and peeing public, so i'm sure you really did adore this fountain as a child

the city was a knockout

even if we did spend 2 hours at the concert, 11 hours sleeping in the best little b&b around and 2 hours while F ate LARD. did i mention F ate LARD for lunch? she ate LARD for lunch.

but before the LARD for lunch, i wake up to F moisturizing her face. with toothpaste. that's right folks...i'm beginning to think the DANDRUFF i noticed earlier at the concert, as my eyes were inexorably drawn to her flaking scalp, was actually just dried toothpaste from her `moisturizing' regime the day before. anybody else out there think this is an entirely plausible theory?

Arcade Fire Tunnel frenzy, and others

a Certain Education

a damn fine support band, even if they did have big shoes to break in. and whom i kept miscalling a Certain Ratio, for obvious, manchester-related reasons

il castello Estense

the venue

intimate. cobblestoned. mind-blowing.

upon arrival

the 24-hour Ferrara jaunt

it started off perfectly. including the requisite weep F had over Chesil Beach on the train. which she tried to cover up, but if you've ever heard the sniffles, you know they're not exactly discreet. this marked the first, but by no means the last, noisemaking of the journey. other highlights: sucking noises in her sleep - i just assumed she was rehydrating in the middle of the night, until there was no water bottle at hand to be found upon awakening. also, the moans and groans while eating LARD for lunch and scoffing two gelati - yep, hers and mine.

and speaking of mucky pups: an ode to my favorite dirt(y) hippie

back, by necessity, an old fave:

Hippies Hate Water

I'm just a man, Dan's got a future,
with a fast picking hand,
but my brother,
my brother, like my mother,
they're living back,
in the dead head fad,
well don't be sad,
they may be ugly,
but they're not that bad,
their only faulter is that they hate water,
and water is something you gotta have,
hippies hate water,one day I found,
myself driving, myself around,
and the I saw 'em,
like a herd sheep callin',
"Gimme a ride to the Dead show man",
well don't be sad,
they may be smelly,
but they're not that bad,
their only faulter is that they hate water,
and water is something you gotta have,
hippies hate water

and these are just two of my favorite things

XANDER, in the good old days, and DODGEBALL. both in one ep, no less. such is bliss

what maude did next

and this, my friends, is why the little mucky pup isn't allowed in my house. that is jeff's itinerary. and nearby is his passport, pocked with tiny teeth marks. which luckily he managed to save before it met the same grisly, stuck-in-rome-and-can't-get-back-to-lisbon end.

an old random - from a berlin loo, if i remember correctly

or maybe SF?