The important things

I nearly gave up the blogging.   It feels a bit like being in the pub with my mates but I am the only 1 buying the rounds.  But then I got to thinking, you don’t miss your rounds there must be a reason & I know that reason.  It would be the same reason I wouldn’t bother emailing or commenting.  Laziness.  I just wouldn’t be bothered & you lot are no different & there is nothing wrong with that.  So after my little sulk I’m back to bore you with some more shit.

Since my last blog we have moved around a lot.  Going from Setrie Levantie to Pisa, Bologna, Modena, Marrinello, Florence, Tuscan Hills, Rome & now we are in a lovely little apartment in Positano on the Amalfi coast.  Lots of things have happened but I’m not going into that here, if you’re desperate to know the details go to the wife’s blog www.snowystylista.blogspot.com I might fill you in a bit later but for now I’m going to, as my good friend reminded me to do, keep it real & tell you about the important things in life.

BBF, I’ve heard the youth mention this & I have no idea what they are on about but for me it’s for the 3 most important things in this world.  Beer, Boobs & football, so I thought I would share the things I have learned about the Italian versions.  Now I kind of remember doing a similar blog about the time I spent in France so I think I can compare to both the Dirty French & the English.  So lets start with where all the great conversations do, with Beer.  I love beer; there is nothing better than getting into the shade after a hard day at the golf, under blistering sun & taking a big few gulps of ice-cold lager.  It surprises me that wine is still drunk so often in these temperatures there is never an exclamations as apt as ‘Ahhhhh that hits the spot’ as a good beer in boiling weather.  I’m partial to a drop of the old Vino every now & again but its just not the same.  Hot weather needs beer & over here just lately it’s been hot, very hot.  I’m not complaining, it beats the rain we’d been having earlier but it does make everyday life just that little bit more difficult & our old friend beer is a necessity.  Luckily the Italians do like a good lager, much better than that French piss water & (unlike the French) they serve it in pints, not those pathetic demi’s.  They even have Beer bars where they sell there own brew.  One we went to in Genoa was full with mostly Lagers (they haven’t quit grasped a good Ale yet) but they were good.  They had beer shooters, beer cocktails (for the girls & gays) beer tasters, beer in 2ltr jars & bought to your table with its own pump & just straightforward beer.  The biggest down side of the beer over here is the price, on average its about €5 a pint, they do happy hour (aparativo) but instead of getting cheap drinks you get buffet food & nibbles, as good as this is we know that eating is cheating & what we really want is cheaper booze not garlic & pesto bruschetta.  Also the locals are so much better at drinking than the French.  They are more like us, they are social, like a chat & a laugh & they go out most nights, unlike us they don’t get shit faced, they are sensible with there drink.  Weird!

With beer the conversation inevitably gets round to boobs.  Before I came away one of the boys said that the only reason I’m going to Italy is because its full of ‘my types’.  As I have mentioned before I am happily married (who’s wife reads this) so my type is the wife, but to explain what he meant, it was women with long dark hair & big boobs.  That had nothing to do with it but there are a lot of dark haired women out here & a lot of them have boobs.  It could be just because its warmer out here so everybody wears just a bit less, it could be that they are a very vain nation & show off anything & everything available to them or it could just be that Italy loves boobs.  I think all of the above.  All the adverts, TV, magazines everything has, almost solely, scantily clad women on it.  It is helped by being led from the top, good old Berlusconi is like a dog on heat drooling over everything, he even found time to Perv up the rescue crew after an earthquake.  There is even footage of him on Youtube dry humping a police women as she was writing out parking ticket, that is the role model for Italians!

Finally football.  Italian football has always been the most difficult for me to watch.  There is no denying the skill of the National team but their leagues are filled with cheating, acting, whinging & (even after the massive point deduction scandal) corruption.  Obviously you can’t see the corruption so it makes no difference to me but the rest just makes for painful viewing.  As with everywhere else in Europe the season is over but football is still on all the time it is just as big as at home but without the football shirts being worn all the time.