Veni, vidi, I ate pizza

(Tim) Hello again. Tom and Tim are wrapping up their journey to the "eternal city" of Rome (sorry, Chicago, as of Friday you'll just be the Windy Area). My first impresion was that it may be more accurately described as the Eternally Childish city. When we first sought sustinence, we popped into some sandwich shops and they all had sanwiches with the crusts cut off and served drinks with bendy straws. The term "grownup" didn't come to mind. Also, everyone here rides scooters, something I think all kids would love to do. And I know I don't even need to mention the ice cream obsession.

This is the one city where we felt justified in being total tourists, and we learned a fair amount along the way. For example, when we were waiting in line for the Vatican Museums, there was a guide talking about Michealangelo, and we were of course listening in for free. Suckers. Speaking of suckers, if you find yourself wanting to feel like everything you've ever "accomplished" in your life is a joke and a waste of time, go check out some of ol' Mike's work. Hmm, dedicated much? I was looking at some sculpture that he did when he was 23, and all I could think about was my bar, and how some dude who died several hundred years ago has managed to strip me of every ounce of my foolish pride. And FYI, the secret's out on the Vatican. The line was longer than the one I put on Tom's forhead when I threw his mp3 player at him in an attempt to thwart his superhuman snoring. Anyway, I had to run home to get pants, as shorts are a no-no in the Vatican, so Tom held our place in line. When I got back, some lady was actually trying to get me to go to the back of the line. Unbeknownst to me, shrugging your shoulders with a blank stare while someone is slapping you on the arm is not universal for "I don't give a shit about what you're saying and it will be a cold day in hell before I leave this line." But she eventually gave up, and in we went. The highlight was surely this Sixteen Chapel thing. They don't even bother showing you the other 15. What was amazing was that after he painted the ceiling, years later he painted a crazy mural on the front wall. I can only imagine the kind of individual who knocks out the damn Sistine Chapel ceiling and decides it's not enough. I also enjoyed the "no cameras" signs, which globally translates to "cameras are fine as long as you don't mind slowing destroying one of man's greatest achievements while everyone around you thinks you're an asshole and the guards yell at you."

Other than having some lady yell at me in a foreign language, there were some interesting parts to the tour. The guide mentioned that Michealangelo and Raphael were rivals at the time the Sistine Chapel was being comissioned, and Raphael wanted Michealangelo to have it, thinking he would blow it. Oops. Talk about one of your all-time backfires. Apparently they didn't become allies until being recruited by Splinter to defeat Bebop and Rocksteady. We also learned that after he finished the Sistine Chapel, Michealangelo would go up to women and say "I don't know how to put this, but I'm kind of a big deal around here."

The Vatican Museums are allegedly the biggest collection in the world. After awhile it gets a little exhausting checking all of it out and not knowing anything about anything, but I was able to enjoy some of the sculptures of the gods, as I had the opportunity to clap my hands while chanting "Hercules! Hercules!" Other than that, Tim and Tom lacked the appropriate knowledge and appreciation for the wealth of history before them. Just like in every other city. That's not to say we couldn't appreciate it when we were equipped with the requisite information. Today we got a free tour (and to our sheer joy, our guide's name was Guido) of St. Peter's Basilica, which pretty much solidified the Napolean Complex of the ancient Romans, and we concluded our sightseeing with the Trevi Fountain, also a not small work of art. There is of course a tradition of throwing a coin over your head into the fountain, and much like the Blarney Stone, Tom would not be deprived of such an opportunity. So with his back to the water, coin in hand, in front of hundereds of people, Tom balks, stating, "I feel like a tool doing this." And to which I replied "That's because you ARE a tool doing this." But he eventually went through with it and, providing the legend is true, Tom will soon fall in love (with someone other than himself).

One of the other notable things about the Italians is their use of the word "Prego." I don't know what it means, as they seem to use it in many different scenarios. I've taken to responding with "Ragu" but have thus far only been met with odd looks. And since we're talking about odd, let's touch on the whole subway system here. For those not in the know, the term "clusterfuck" was conceived to describe it. People just push past in a mad dash for a seat for a 10 minute ride. One guy plowed past me and I was ready to tell him what I thought of his behavior, but after getting a good look at him, the only thing that came to mind was "mafioso," and better judgement once again prevailed as I thought better of it, doing exactly nothing.

So, now it's off to Spain, where I look foward to 8 days of Tom absolutely butchering the native language while truly believing he fits in. Thanks to everyone who commented, sorry I had to yell at you to get it done, but as we all can see, the squeaky wheel does get the oil.