In my dining hall, they serve cheeseburgers without a bun, on top of a bed of french fries. It comes with Salsa Rosa (a sloppy mix of mayo and ketchup) if you ask for just plain ketchup, they will not give it to you.
If Spain and the United States had a fun contest, Spain would win. I am confident that we could somehow cure depression by exporting Spaniards to all corners of the world.
There are creepy millipede-like insects that live in my dormitory and only come out at night. I hope they all die when winter comes.
Explaining the ins and outs of the MLB playoffs is very difficult in broken Italian.
Italians cancel class like Americans watch TV. I am supposed to have three classes on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. I have not attended three lessons in one day here...ever.
I have signed up for a mandatory fire safety class on October 22nd. It takes four hours, two of which are in a lecture hall, and rest of the time is at an undisclosed location. I hope we get some real fire experience, because there is only so much you can learn inside the classroom.
In Verona, horse meat is a local delicacy. I will find out if horse tastes more like chicken or glue this Saturday.
Little kids in Trieste are brilliant. They are already fluent in Italian.
In Italy, the ratio of lingerie stores to fast food restaurants is a healthy 20:1.
A trio of Portuguese girls thinks I look like Ryan from The O.C. I looked into it. I don't see the resemblance.
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1 comment:
Try harder.
Perhaps.
Unlikely.
Plausible.
Lucky you.
Make sure you're not wearing any fruit gel tomorrow, lest it make your head ignite. I'm confident there will be actual fire and danger.
Gross.
Perhaps.
Perhaps.
Ew...No way!
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