This would have been included in my post about Venice, but I have perfected the art of procrastination to such a fine point that I was still writing the blog entry for that trip when it came time to take the train to the next one. In fact, it may have led to a sweaty dash to the train station and promises about “being more prepared next time” or some other Oprah self-help book crap. In any case, this part of our trip to Venice was so cool it really does deserve its own entry.
WARNING: This blog entry contains entirely unnecessary explicit language. This is not the fault of the Venetians, as both they and their city are absolutely lovely. It’s due mainly to my inability–having been born and raised in a landlocked shithole full of nothing but strip malls and Baptist churches–to be able to grasp the beauty of a city like Venice without throwing around the word “fuck” a few times. So if you’re offended by naughty words, please click here.
Now, for everyone who isn’t an elderly schoolmarm: