Goddamn, they have huge beers here.

Also: Switzerland is beautiful but expensive, and Italy…yeah, strikes are fun. In the sense that they made Florence quite a bit more difficult than it should have been.

I wish I could say more but I can’t. I’m…too drunk.

Once again, a wee “we’re not dead!” post, this time from fantastically fabulous (and fantastically hot) Italy.

We’ve had a long few days, trying to see everything in Venice and Rome, especailly since someone left the humidity in Rome up around Brazillian Rainforest the last couple of days.

But when you can get fucking amazing Gelato for a buck, you kind of stop caring about how hot and tired you are, and enjoy the scenery.

More details to come at some point. For now, back to finding more pizza and pasta than even I can deal with.

It’s a good thing I didn’t come here when I was twelve, because the German spelling of Vienna is Wiener. Because at least now, this monologue is internal:

“Wienerwald! Hee hee hee hee!”

After that, I think it’s appropriate that we’re probably going to go to the Sigmund Freud museum tomorrow.

It’s been a bit since I updated, so I figured I would.

Copenhagen was cold. Really, really cold. The Danish history museum was really interesting but the overriding thing I took away was: Cold.

Berlin was fun, there was a hell of a lot to do. It was a bit disappointing to find all of Unter Der Linden up to about 50 feet before the Brandenburg Gate closed and being ripped up and reconstructed, but it was still cool.

For my birthday we had drinks at this weird little bar where they were basically mocking the stock exchange. It was pretty hilarious.

They had the prices of the beers on a screen, and the more people that bought a beer, the more the price would go up, the fewer, the price would go down.

Then every once in a while they’d have a “Market crash” where there’d be loud music playing and the bartender would ring a bell, and all the prices would drop to their lowest. It was cheesy as hell, but pretty damn funny.

We’re in Prague right now, where we’ve discovered that there are two things to do: 1. Drink. 2. Drink a whole lot more. It’s unbelievable. Half-liters of Pilsner Urquell are the equivelent of 90 cents.

It’s interesting though, there’s not a whole lot else to do. It’s like this town got turned into a tourist trap before it even realized what was happening, and now they’re like, oh, shit…attractions!

Anyway, we’re off to Vienna tonight, more from Austria.

We’re finishing up here in Amsterdam. To answer the two questions I know you have:

1. No, we did not get high. I’ve still got a pretty bitchy cold and can’t completely breathe right, so I figured that adding pot smoke to my lungs might be a bit counterproductive. And Mark, being the gentleman that he is, declined to partake when I couldn’t.

2. No, we did not get whores. Although Mark did get propositioned by a woman with the largest, fakest breasts I’ve ever seen.

We’re having a great time, it’s a pretty breakneck pace right now, with a very long trip to Copenhagen tonight, but we do get to spend a couple hours in a random town called Duisberg, which we’re reasonably sure is in Germany.

German Beer! Woo!