HOT DAMN, has it really been a MONTH?

(No. It has been MORE than a month.)

HELLO AMERICA. First off, we'd like to thank you for giving us 16 followers. Seriously? Best. This is to you, followers. The longest entry of ever. (Unless we get bored.)

HERE IS THE STORY YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR: FALL BREAK OH NINE. And thankfully we kept a list of things to blog about, because we knew you'd want to know.

SO once upon a time, we went to Spain and Scotland. BUT FIRST, we had to go to Bologna to catch an airplane. We went there at very early in the morning. Like really early. We decided we would be good travelers and use all that extra time to see what exciting things Bologna had to offer.

Instead, we sat in McDonald's for like 3 hours. Seriously. It was the best. Not only were the bacon and gross meat hamburgers and chicken nuggets and fries fantastic (and holy shit they actually have fountain sodas! like soda NOT from a can!), but we also played a super game called: "Why the hell do they have a secret code for the bathroom, also it is 18, also let's tell everyone who didn't buy food what it is because it's on all the receipts and then they can go pee and we are good citizens and good people forever lol no one can figure out to push enter, isn't this hilarious?"

It was without a doubt the best time either of us have ever had in a McDonald's. And in Bologna. Also way better than looking at art or whatever we would have been doing otherwise. I hear there was a nice square, actually. We saw a bit of it when we sat on the fountain waiting to go to lunch cause it was still too early way too quickly.

AND THEN we got on the plane and it was super great and we giggled like schoolgirls (we ARE schoolgirls) when the plane took off and giggled more that everyone clapped when we landed. It was awesome. RYANAIR IS AWESOME except it is ugly. Also they spend the whole flight trying to sell you shit, like booze and cologne and smokeless cigarettes, which what the hell does that mean anyway?

SO THEN we sat at the airport for a bit and then got on the bus that went to Girona, Spain when the very most epic thing ever ever ever in our lives (I hope it never happens again) happened. Lindsay, smartest person ever, left her purse on the bus and got off the bus and walked along the road for a little while before realizing EFFING SHIT FUCK SHIT FUCKER FUCK SHIT she left it. WHAT A DUMMY. So then we started half running, half hobbling like large agitated turtles carrying very heavy luggage back towards the bus station. SUDDENLY at the corner of the road we spotted the bus station and the bus was there and we THREW DOWN OUR LUGGAGE and Lindsay, slowest runner, sat on all of it while Alison, fastest runner, RAN to the bus JUST AS IT WAS PULLING OUT (that's what she said) and banged on the door so it would stop and the bus driver, angry and Spanish, gave her the purse which, in case you were wondering, had in it minorly important things like passport, money, EVERYTHING IMPORTANT LET'S BE REAL. It was... exciting.

SO THEN we learned there were even more ways to flush toilets in Europe. Seriously, Europe, what the hell is up with your toilets? There are SO MANY KINDS I don't get it.

THE NEXT DAY, after a relaxing night in our hostel when our 6 teenage Spanish roommates returned drunk to our room at 5 in the morning giggling loudly and shushing each other every 3 seconds (but they still turned the lights on, thanks guys), we went to Barcelona. Ahhh, Barcelona. But it was an adventure getting there because there were CULTS of Spanish youths on the train. (I suppose that is what we get for traveling around Halloween, wtf.) All the children youths teenagers gross were wearing crazy ass costumes or they just dressed weirdly whatever, and they TRIED TO KILL US WITH THEIR EYES and it was actually not bad at all, but the toilets on the train were really gross. People peed all over them. Otherwise though Spanish trains kicked the asses of Italian trains. COME ON Italy. Maybe clean a train once and a while, eh?

SO THEN Catalan sucks.

AND THEN we went to the Picasso museum. It was FOR FREEZ because of the first sunday of the month or whatever, which was pretty great. WHILE WE WERE THERE SITTING BECAUSE WALKING IS REAL HARD we had a great epiphany. WE FIGURED OUT WHY PICASSO IS SO FUCKING WEIRD GUYS. NO SERIOUSLY. And here is the answer, because we think you can handle it. Ok, so he was really fucking good at art like when he was in the womb, even, I think, and he just popped out making handprint collages probably, they just haven't found those yet. Anyway, so when he was like 7 he was making awesome pictures and drawings and so by the time he got old, obvi he was bored with that shit. Seriously, how many paintings of scenery can you do before you are like OK, I'm awesome, now what? So clearly the next logical step was to start painting people with like 3 heads shaped like triangles and 7 eyes and shit. ALSO, we determined that his mom got real fed up with how he started painting so weird so she would only buy him a couple colors of paint at a time so that is why everything is like only red and blue or yellow and green or whatever.

Really though, can't you picture it (if not I am about to do it for you):

Picasso: Hot damn, I am the best at art. I wonder what people would look like with three heads that are triangles?
P Mom: What the hell kind of drugs are you on?
Picasso: Oh my god, mom, I just want to express myself.
P Mom: Express yourself without purple, asshole.
Picasso: God damn.
P Mom: Seriously, no more drugs or no more paint.
Picasso: Whatever, mom. I'm gonna paint you with square eyes coming out of your nose.
P Mom: Do it! See if I care, drug son.

I'm pretty sure that's exactly how it happened.

SO THEN we went to the Gaudi park that he made for rich people to go play in and be rich and stuff. We decided that Gaudi was probably an alien NO REALLY we even saw someone dressed as an alien there and by dressed we mean it was a real alien. (P.S. When we saw Barcelona we were with Angela and Megan K, it was great. Forgot that, oops. Love you guys lolololol). ANYWAY Gaudi = looking for aliens. That is the important message here.

AND THEN we had fabulous food with the lovely aforementioned ladies and then we were like omgweresotiredandlazy so we decided to catch the next train back to Girona where our hostel was waiting for us (we would learn later, the teens were gone!) and so we left with like ten, fifteen minutes before that train and we were like, yeaaaaah, we got this, no biggie. So we were on the metro when ANOTHER EPIC STORY HOLY SHIT we looked at our clocks and were like OH EFF ONLY LIKE SEVEN MINUTES and the fast walking power walking maniacs that we are, we... had to stay on the metro more minutes. Then when we got to the train station we had to walk like 1700000 miles because the Barcelona train station is FUCKING HUGE like my peen. And THEN we were looking at the schedule board thing and we were like NONE OF THESE TRAINS ARE GOING TO GIRONA WTF so we got in line at the information kiosk and some bitchass old lady tried to cut us in line but we were like AW HELL NO and then we asked the information dude which train to get on and he was like THAT ONE GO RIGHT NOW IT IS LEAVING so we RAN ALL THE WAY TO THE TRAIN and jumped on it and were like IS THIS SHIT GOING TO GIRONA and the people on it were like YEP so then we sat down across from some black dude and he laughed at us. MORE IMPORTANTLY just as we got on that train the fucking doors shut, hell yes it was that close it was soooo epic you wouldn't believe. And we giggled most of the ride home then we calmed down and were really tired and lazy again.

BUT ON THE TRAIN ALSO we planned our budget because we were about to play a game called: "Let's fucking not get money out again, we have like sixteen euros between us, right, also how much does food cost, three four more meals wtf, and also grocery stores, where are they, whatever, fuck getting money out. OH HAY what are words in Catalan (fucking Catalan) mm ham and cheese and bread and WHAT IS THIS YOGURT GROSS WHAT IS IN IT IT IS SO CHUNKY (I'm going to try to eat it anyway omg this is terrible and no, mixing the two flavors does not help), also, omg we have enough money for champagne or some shit that maybe this is you can't tell cause it's in CATALANFUCKINGCATALANWHATISTHATLANGUAGE lol let's sit outside our window on a pretend balcony that is actually just kind of a big ledge and eat" and it was great. Also we watched 10 Things I Hate About You (on an iPod with speakers in a plastic cup, legit) instead of being real tourists but WE WERE SICK, OK??? (This is the trip where we got sick. We are maybe still sick, don't ask.) Anyway, watching movies > culture, duh.

BUT IT WAS OK cause we played all around Girona the next day and saw the coolest shit, seriously, you should be jealous. Like, not even kidding. BEST CITY fuck Barcelona, they try to steal your life.

Then we almost missed our plane to Scotland because Alison doesn't know what military time is. It felt epic, but really wasn't. We still got to the airport with plenty of time, but not with PLENTY PLENTY time, like we had wanted. Fucking military time, dude. 24 hours, who does that? (Shut up, Europe. We know you do that.)

ANYWAY the point is SCOTLAND FUCKING RULED. (Spain was awesome, but SCOTLAND DID FUCKING RULE SO TRUE.) Did you know that UK men are BEAUTIFUL (sometimes, but far more often than in Italy, let's be realzies). We went to this pub near our hostel (WHICH WAS NEXT DOOR TO A FUCKING CASTLE btw) the first night and it was so yummy, and I mean the boys, not the food, but the food was yummy too. HOT DAMN IT WAS GREAT. Also, Lindsay got carded because apparently she doesn't look old enough to SIT in a pub. Not even ordering booze, wtf.

ANYWAY so we were right next to this CASTLE right, how cool is that, fucking CASTLES OK AND IT WAS THE CASTLE THAT INSPIRED JKROWLING IT WAS HOGWARTS FUCKING HOGWARTS WE WENT TO HOGWARTS (not the same as in the movie, not important).

Oh wait, and can we talk about how first night a boy tried to climb in bed with Lindsay? Let's talk about that. Ok, yes, she's hot as fuck, but come on, really, climbing in bed? (Ok, real reason is that we both got assigned that bed, stupid desk, but at least Lindsay got a free breakfast she didn't eat out of it, am I right?) and it led to meeting THE BEST AUSTRALIANS EVER/only Australians we've met. Actually, pretty much everyone we met in Scotland was Australian with the exception of this one American kid who was a total dick so he doesn't count. Some of the Australians were also Italian weird. (Can't get away from Italy ever again, I think is what this means, not that we totes want to, but just a little sometimes, you know?)

AND ONCE WE MADE BED FRIENDS we went on the epic hunt for THE ELEPHANT ASS CAFE (which we had heard about from Ben, who is also awesome, who we visited because he was in Scotland and he made us try whisky that was good and stuff weird). THIS ELEPHANT ASS CAFE (not real name, but we forgot at the time) was SOMEWHERE and we were like EFF, WHERE I DON'T KNOW WHERE WE ARE HEY LOOK A MUSEUM, wanna go inside? So we did, even though it was closing in like 25 minutes, but whatev, how much Scottish history is there? (The answer is: way more than you'd think, like 7 floors or some shit.) So we were wandering around when this South African (are there actually any people from Scotland in Scotland????) was like where are the stairs there's a cool look out point on the roof! And we were like... no clue, but we are going with you! Awesome! WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN DINGYDINGYBUZZ I forget the noise, but it was a FIRE ALARM OH SHIT and we all got escorted out of the building and it didn't actually catch on fire, I don't know what it was about, but we were out on the streets and there... looking at us, there just down the street! was...

THE ELEPHANT ASS CAFE. (Actually, it's called the Elephant House, but whatevs.) In case you don't know, this is an extremely important cafe. You know those books, what are they called again, Harry Otter? Hairy Pothead? HELL NAW HARRY POTTER YOU KNOW THOSE BOOKS everyone knows those books. ANYWAY JK ROWLING WENT THERE AND WROTE THOSE BOOKS ON NAPKINS BACK WHEN SHE WAS POOR AND A SINGLE MOM AND SHIT. So we made the pilgrimage to the Mecca that is The Elephant House and it was SO COOL SERIOUSLY elephants were everywhere (not real) and there was a great view of the castle and the hot chocolate was the best ever esp with all the marshmallows and it was just the best atmosphere and WE PROBABLY PEED IN THE SAME POTTIES JK ROWLING PEED IN HOW EXCITING IS THAT?????? Also we maybe might have stolen some napkins. Not nerdy. Def not nerdy.

SO THEN we gave up on being tourists after seeing like three museums or something and climbing hills and just ran around and sometimes sat around Scotland except that FIRST BEFORE WE GOT LAZY AND WERE TERRIBLE TOURISTS WE WENT ON THE BEST PUB CRAWL IN THE WORLD. Since we had made fabulous Australian friends, we hung out with them and then went on the pub crawl with them and forty other of our closest nearby hostel friends (yeah, we didn't know them, but whatever it was GREAT) and were out for EIGHT HOURS IT WAS SO GREAT. In Scotland they start drinking at like morning, but the pub crawl started at 8:30 and we went to bed at fucking 4:30 in the morning, we are so intense. Esp because we were dying of swine flu at the time, but what does that matter when it comes to BOOZE HMM? SPEAKING OF BOOZE IT WAS SO GOOD AND CHEAP OMG. In Scotland they have this shit called Irnbru (for real how it is spelled) and it is kind of like cream soda but not shitty and they put vodka in it and it is the best thing ever. Also cranberry shits (we are girls okay). Hey, we also had jaeger bombs, shit, don't forget about that even though that was like 7 drinks in. Probably more. The Australians kept peer-pressuring us into drinking more. It was soooo sad / the best time ever. HOT DAMN I WANT TO GO BACK RIGHT NOW fuck Italy.

IN CLOSING, when you travel in Europe, always use Ryanair because they are so excited to land that there is always lots of applause. BEST FALL BREAK EVER.

xoxo,
Gossip IRNBRU

P.S. No pictures, but a thousand words, so what do you need a picture for, anyway?
P.P.S. Apologies to dyslexics.