Okay, so here's the deal: there are these things in Siena called contrade (this word in American language is "contradas"). They are basically neighborhoods but with badass animal mascots and cool flags and shit. Sometimes certain contrade hate other contrade for some reason that is probably like 50000 years old. (I have a guess for why la torre has two enemies and is the only contrada to have two enemies. The answer is JEWS. Catholics hate Jews and, weirdly enough, Italy is Catholic.) Every year, the contrade all get together and race horses around the Campo, which is way too small to race horses around. Sometimes horses fall down and people get trampled and stuff. It's pretty exciting. BUT IT WASN'T ALWAYS THIS WAY.
Once upon a time, in Siena, there was a big battle between Florence and Siena and SIENA FUCKING WON THAT SHIT even though there were way more Florentines fighting. It is because they asked Mary for help and promised to worship her forever if she helped out. Which she did, because I guess she is also badass. (Even though she got Jesus without sex.) Mary's way of helping was to be all, "Hey guys, just totally go kill all the Florentines in their sleep, it's totally cool." And Siena responded, "K." And so it was.
To remember this awesome feat and how super Mary's advice was, Siena has the Palio. Also one time when Italy was all depressed the Medici family was all, "I'm sorry you guys are sad and the country sucks. How about you just have another Palio in August. Drown your sorrows in contrada dinners." And Siena responded, "K." And so it was.
BUT BEFORE THE FOR REAL PALIO, there were lots of fake Palios. INCLUDING ONE IN WHICH PEOPLE RODE BUFFALO. COOLEST SHIT EVER. Seriously. They raced buffalo around the campo. How super would it be to see that. "Oh hey, what's up?" "Oh, not too much, just gonna race around some buffalo or some shit." "Yeah man, that's cool. I'm pickin up what you're puttin down." "Word."
Then for whatever reason Siena was like, fuck buffalos. Let's race DONKEYS FOREVER. And so they did. But it went more like this: "Oh hey, what's up?" "Oh, not too much, just gonna race around some donkeys or some shit." "Oh that sounds ok." And then it wasn't because donkeys don't race. Assholes. (ASSholes. Get it??????) So then finally it occurred to people that maybe they should race racehorses. So they did. There are 17 contrade and only 10 get to race, though, because like we said the campo just can't fit all those motherfuckers. There's some method to how they pick who races, but we didn't really get it, it sounded like bullshit. Anyway, winning the Palio(z) is a real big deal and everybody gets all excited and has like 170000 parades every day until someone else wins another Palio and then THEY have parades and basically it's parades all the time up in here. Hell, even the teams that don't win have parades, because they can. They all have kickass parading outfits (can you say MANTIGHTS????) and flags and drums and it's beautiful always.
After the Palio they have a million other things like big parties and dinners and all sorts of shit we don't even know about because we aren't in a contrada. (You have to be baptized in, FYI.)
SPEAKING OF BAPTISMS, fun fact: The horses are all baptized in the churches of their represented contrada before they race. Also if they poop in the church, that's good luck. Obviously. Other strange things: A horse can win without a rider, but a horse cannot win without its contrada headband. Both of these things have happened in the past. (How pissed would you be if your motherfucking horse won but the asshole wasn't wearing its hairpiece? Fucking shit.)
Siena also used to play other games back in the day besides racing the most random animals they could get their hands on. Lots of these games involved roleplaying, but not in a sexy way. Half the people would pretend to be Florence and the other half would play Siena, and then they would beat the shit out of each other until people died. (For real. We exaggerate a lot, but this is not one of those times.) Eventually these games were stopped because people died.
Another splendid and classy game they played was "Release a bull in the campo and you can't leave until you eat a really big lunch." Literally.
They played some shit where they just punched and kicked and bit each other to avoid killing each other, also, but I bet some people still kicked it sometimes. A good punch to the nose can do a bitch in.
The moral of this story, basically, is that Siena is the best place ever.
XOXO,
Gossip Buffalo
PS: If you want to be in a contrada, here are your animal options: elephant (best), ram (ok sometimes), snail, caterpiller (worst), dolphin, dragon, owl, rhino, leocorn (whatever the fuck that is), two headed eagle, panther, turtle, shell (not even fucking alive), porcupine, giraffe (shut up, Taylor), DINOSAUR (we wish), she-wolf (complete with teats yessssss), OR goose (suxorz).
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO,
Gossip DINORHINOS
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
ITALY IS BEAUTIFULISSIMO (ALMOST AS MUCH AS OHIO)
Dear America,
We have been spending a lot of time in Italy lately (don't be offended lol), and we decided that we need to let you know some things. As we all know, FASHUN and PEEING are two important things. So we are going to talk about them.
PEEING IN ITALY (where, how to, and WHY)
WHERE TO PEE: Dude. Fuck if I know. It is one of the great mysteries of Italy. Some places will let you go in and pee for free, but mostly they are shady places like the Bar Birreria. Also we're pretty sure they're only okay with it because we have boobs. (Including Logan.) You can also pay 50 euro cents to some creepy old lady in a shady alleyway behind the campo. Legit. Restaurants and things will also let you pee for free, but only if you buy a lot of shit from them first. (And then you have to pee double, so it's a losing situation, pretty much.) Basically, the entirity of your day should be planned around how often you have to pee and where the free places are.
HOW TO PEE (read "flush"): The great thing about Italian potties (AND SINKS!) is that every one is different. Every time you pee, it's an adventure and a test of your intelligence and rapid decision-making skills under pressure. FOR EXAMPLE: My potty at home has a stick out of the wall that looks like you should push it down. That doesn't work. Then you think, well maybe I could turn it? False. What you actually do is push it into the wall. Well, first you pull it out and then you push it in. Other potties have the pipe bits mounted very high on the wall with a little metal tab sticking out of the bottom that you have to push up. Some potties have huge buttons on the wall. Even more potties have chains you pull. How adventurous! The ways to flush a potty are endless, and I think probably there is a group of Italians who sit around all day brainstorming new ways to confuse the masses. Dirty bastards. (BASTERDSLOLBRADPITTANDSHIT.)
ALSO, not only are there 17001 ways to flush the toilet in Italy, some places ALSO have foot-operated sinks. Actually, it's pretty nice to have a foot-operated sink (once you know they exist, because before that you just hit the faucet until the few remaining drops of water from the person who did know how to work the sink come out. Also you spend way too long waving your hands under the faucet in hopes that it is secretly one of those motion-sensor deals. You probably also twist the faucet and poke at other parts of the sink for a long time, soap already on your hands wondering what the fuck you're supposed to do, and why are there paper towels if the god damn sink is broken anyway, and shouldn't they have posted an out of order sign, for fuck's sake?) because the other sinks' handles usually don't work well and the water drips forever, or also sometimes the sink SQUAWKS at you like a dirty whore for using water, and it's just an all around stressful situation. Anyway, foot-pedal sinks are pretty cool.
WHY: Vino, man. Also those strawberry drinks that are pretty much just vodka and sugar and a coupla strawberry bits.
WASN'T THAT LESSON FUN?????!!?!?!???!
Let's learn about fashion! Hell yes.
FASHION IN ITALIA
PURPLE: If you are not wearing it right now, you are probably really lame and have no friends. Also, it has to be the right SHADE of purple. None of that royal bullshit. Lilac all the way. Even on the gentlemen. (And by gentlemen I mean skeezy greasy-haired Italians, since that is mostly what we encounter.)
That is pretty much it on fashion.
XOXO,
Gossip Flushers
We have been spending a lot of time in Italy lately (don't be offended lol), and we decided that we need to let you know some things. As we all know, FASHUN and PEEING are two important things. So we are going to talk about them.
PEEING IN ITALY (where, how to, and WHY)
WHERE TO PEE: Dude. Fuck if I know. It is one of the great mysteries of Italy. Some places will let you go in and pee for free, but mostly they are shady places like the Bar Birreria. Also we're pretty sure they're only okay with it because we have boobs. (Including Logan.) You can also pay 50 euro cents to some creepy old lady in a shady alleyway behind the campo. Legit. Restaurants and things will also let you pee for free, but only if you buy a lot of shit from them first. (And then you have to pee double, so it's a losing situation, pretty much.) Basically, the entirity of your day should be planned around how often you have to pee and where the free places are.
HOW TO PEE (read "flush"): The great thing about Italian potties (AND SINKS!) is that every one is different. Every time you pee, it's an adventure and a test of your intelligence and rapid decision-making skills under pressure. FOR EXAMPLE: My potty at home has a stick out of the wall that looks like you should push it down. That doesn't work. Then you think, well maybe I could turn it? False. What you actually do is push it into the wall. Well, first you pull it out and then you push it in. Other potties have the pipe bits mounted very high on the wall with a little metal tab sticking out of the bottom that you have to push up. Some potties have huge buttons on the wall. Even more potties have chains you pull. How adventurous! The ways to flush a potty are endless, and I think probably there is a group of Italians who sit around all day brainstorming new ways to confuse the masses. Dirty bastards. (BASTERDSLOLBRADPITTANDSHIT.)
ALSO, not only are there 17001 ways to flush the toilet in Italy, some places ALSO have foot-operated sinks. Actually, it's pretty nice to have a foot-operated sink (once you know they exist, because before that you just hit the faucet until the few remaining drops of water from the person who did know how to work the sink come out. Also you spend way too long waving your hands under the faucet in hopes that it is secretly one of those motion-sensor deals. You probably also twist the faucet and poke at other parts of the sink for a long time, soap already on your hands wondering what the fuck you're supposed to do, and why are there paper towels if the god damn sink is broken anyway, and shouldn't they have posted an out of order sign, for fuck's sake?) because the other sinks' handles usually don't work well and the water drips forever, or also sometimes the sink SQUAWKS at you like a dirty whore for using water, and it's just an all around stressful situation. Anyway, foot-pedal sinks are pretty cool.
WHY: Vino, man. Also those strawberry drinks that are pretty much just vodka and sugar and a coupla strawberry bits.
WASN'T THAT LESSON FUN?????!!?!?!???!
Let's learn about fashion! Hell yes.
FASHION IN ITALIA
PURPLE: If you are not wearing it right now, you are probably really lame and have no friends. Also, it has to be the right SHADE of purple. None of that royal bullshit. Lilac all the way. Even on the gentlemen. (And by gentlemen I mean skeezy greasy-haired Italians, since that is mostly what we encounter.)
That is pretty much it on fashion.
XOXO,
Gossip Flushers
Thursday, September 3, 2009
WHAT UP AMERICA
HEY GURL HEY. (ciao, ragazza, ciao!) Blogging from Italy again. It'll probably be like that for a while.
It is real hot in Italy right now. We're estimating about a billion degrees or so (celcius, obv). Our thighs are sticking together like nobody's business. (It's real attractive, boyz. Come to Italy lololololol.) Speaking of attractive, we have toured Siena probably a thousand times with different professors and I'm pretty sure that I'm permanently going to have cankles. Hope y'all are into that. (For the record, the bloggers would like to state that only half of them are developing cankles. You can guess which half.) (And the cankles are only during the day. At night they go away. And you know that night time is the sexy time anyway.)
ANYWAY, less about the gross things our bodies do when it is real hot and more about how super great Italy is. One of our primary activities in Italy is eating gelato. We do this every day. So far we have resisted the temptation to do it multiple times a day, but our resolve is falling fast, unlike our weight. (HOW MANY KG DO I WEIGH????? I HAVE NO IDEA. WTF IS A KG???????)
In Italian class we are learning many things, like what is a verb. (It is an action word, for those of you at home who don't keep up with English.) (Peter.) Also, in case you ever need to call someone a dirty slut in Italian, we can totally tell you how. We have priorities. Also we can count (sort of).
Today's lesson on Italy will be about how to eat. The first step in eating is to get a ton more food than everyone around you, mostly just because you are a guest. Eat it. There is no other option, because if you don't eat it, then your host mother will think you hate her. Also, don't feel weird when they watch you eat. It is totes normal. They will never stop watching you, actually. In Italy it is apparently a thing to stare at people on the street. The best is that it's always creepy men, and they always look real mad, like maybe you ate their baby or something. Or your contrada beat their contrada during the Palio. EVEN WORSE. (FUN FACT: More praying goes on before the Palio than any other time during the year. Italians are v. serious about their Catholic bullshit.)
Back to eating. After you eat 12 plates of pasta they will take away your bowl and put some meat and veggies on your plate. To make them happy, eat this, too. Also the 17 types of fruit that come after that, plus dessert, if it's offered. Sometimes dessert consists of super alcoholic lemon shit. It is good, so no worries there.
Right now our host mommies have been packing us lunches like we are 7, but next week we have to start making our own. This will involve many grand adventures to the grocery store (otherwise known as "Conad" lololol). Stay tuned for updates.
OH SPEAKING OF WHICH LINDSAY TOTALLY GOT CARDED BUYING WINE AT THE GROCERY STORE IN CASE ANYONE HASN'T HEARD BECAUSE SHE IS SECRETLY (OR NOT SO SECRETLY LOLOL) TWELVE.
Shit damn.
With much love
(XOXO),
GOSSIP CONADS
It is real hot in Italy right now. We're estimating about a billion degrees or so (celcius, obv). Our thighs are sticking together like nobody's business. (It's real attractive, boyz. Come to Italy lololololol.) Speaking of attractive, we have toured Siena probably a thousand times with different professors and I'm pretty sure that I'm permanently going to have cankles. Hope y'all are into that. (For the record, the bloggers would like to state that only half of them are developing cankles. You can guess which half.) (And the cankles are only during the day. At night they go away. And you know that night time is the sexy time anyway.)
ANYWAY, less about the gross things our bodies do when it is real hot and more about how super great Italy is. One of our primary activities in Italy is eating gelato. We do this every day. So far we have resisted the temptation to do it multiple times a day, but our resolve is falling fast, unlike our weight. (HOW MANY KG DO I WEIGH????? I HAVE NO IDEA. WTF IS A KG???????)
In Italian class we are learning many things, like what is a verb. (It is an action word, for those of you at home who don't keep up with English.) (Peter.) Also, in case you ever need to call someone a dirty slut in Italian, we can totally tell you how. We have priorities. Also we can count (sort of).
Today's lesson on Italy will be about how to eat. The first step in eating is to get a ton more food than everyone around you, mostly just because you are a guest. Eat it. There is no other option, because if you don't eat it, then your host mother will think you hate her. Also, don't feel weird when they watch you eat. It is totes normal. They will never stop watching you, actually. In Italy it is apparently a thing to stare at people on the street. The best is that it's always creepy men, and they always look real mad, like maybe you ate their baby or something. Or your contrada beat their contrada during the Palio. EVEN WORSE. (FUN FACT: More praying goes on before the Palio than any other time during the year. Italians are v. serious about their Catholic bullshit.)
Back to eating. After you eat 12 plates of pasta they will take away your bowl and put some meat and veggies on your plate. To make them happy, eat this, too. Also the 17 types of fruit that come after that, plus dessert, if it's offered. Sometimes dessert consists of super alcoholic lemon shit. It is good, so no worries there.
Right now our host mommies have been packing us lunches like we are 7, but next week we have to start making our own. This will involve many grand adventures to the grocery store (otherwise known as "Conad" lololol). Stay tuned for updates.
OH SPEAKING OF WHICH LINDSAY TOTALLY GOT CARDED BUYING WINE AT THE GROCERY STORE IN CASE ANYONE HASN'T HEARD BECAUSE SHE IS SECRETLY (OR NOT SO SECRETLY LOLOL) TWELVE.
Shit damn.
With much love
(XOXO),
GOSSIP CONADS
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