When in Rome...

STILL in pizzaza land. Things have cheered up slightly since I have finally left my little bumfuck town to the big cityyy.
BEFORE MY ACCOUNT OF ROME, I would like to quite clearly state, that my blog is a LOT of exaggeration, I gripe about my life but I do not ACTUALLY believe that I am hard up, as a comment from a lady called "Hilary" seemed to imply. So basically, I complain and bitch but thats what I do, because I am a teenager, not because I am ungrateful and whatnot. Just to clarify.

ANYHOO. Romaa. Well we caught the train on time AGAIN which was pretty much the big feat of the day. INCROYABLE! We arrived at st. pietro and went to go see la fontagne di trevy, with the WHOLE Parkinson crew. Let me tell you, we are a BIZZARRE sight. There is my aunt Arabella who insists talking as loud as possible, wears bright jumpers that look like a cable knit factory exploded on her, and her husband Al who is a neurotic Canadian Bomb disposal expert who thinks ANYTHING is a possible serious threat to his children. THEN there are their kids - Charles, who is a mini version of Alfred Hitchcock (not the fact that he is extrememely talented at making films, but he has these HUGE droopy cheeks and eats more than my brother and I combined) - HOWEVER, whenever Alex and I refer to him as fat or chubby, his parents are most offended and pretty much explode at us! Seriously, parents nowadays. Then there are the ANGELIC Isabella and Leonora who are brats of the first degree, though adroable. When faced with something they don't like all they have to do is screw up their faces in despair and Arabella or Al fall over themselves to set it right. After this is my other aunt Miranda (affectionatly known as Babu) who is ALSO very loud with a messed up foot so she has to wear silly looking trainers with every outfit (I have a feeling she is going to wear them to her wedding). Babs is a doctor and the Prodigal Daughter of the family, I am just jealous cus she is waaayyy hot and I am upset my boobs aren't as big as hers :( how sad is my life? MOVING ON: there is Tom(Babu's fiance - flamboyant dress sense, looks like a prep school boy on crack but is really quite nice) my mother (well... basically, psycho who always wears black) and my brother Alex (6 foot tall with the mentality of an eight year old, still thinks he is living in apartheid south africa), DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON MY GRANDPARENTS AND MY UNCLE, THOSE LISTED ARE THE NORMAL MEMBERS OF THE FAMILY. Anyway, after this we all headed to the Peroni Birreria (beer brewery) Where I had some mediocre calamari - well it was tough, it tasted like a skunk fresh from the abatoir, and the sauce was basically frog spawn mixed in with the afterbirth of satan. My brother daringly ordered a hamburger which was basically two slabs of suspicious looking meat of dubious origin and patatines (fries). However the beer was nice and the family was behaving reasonably normal. yay! Anyway, after this we headed to GIOLITTI'S - FINALLY! It was reasonably empty which was a miracle (meaning there was only two or three groups of 100 cub scouts), I had caramel, menthe and nocciola which was tasty, then most of Babu's ice cream cus she is obsessed with not eating too much sugar. After this we all went to our v. useless exhibition by Jean-Michel Basquiat which was a TOTAL waste of time. To sum him up: he was young and black, spent all his time moaning about how he was always an outcast when he lived on the ''streets"- it was later found out that he had a cushy middle class upbringing etc. etc. and his PAINTINGS, do NOT get me started on the fucking paintings, they were basically shopping lists with random brushstrokes over the top, it was a waste of 15 euros in short. However I really did like the title of the exhibition "to repel ghosts", well it is more beautiful in italian, but i doubt any italians read my blog!! haha. Anyway, then Tom, Babs and I headed to cafe greco for drinks and hopped in a cab to the station and got the train back to LOSM (little old santa marinella)
anyway, I'm out. peace homies
homeward bound i miss Hong Kong and having a life, never fear, I shall return in THREE DAYS MO FUCKERS.