Czech-Switzerland is where?

Lots to catch up on. Here's the first.

Nino and Raffy asked me a couple weeks back if I'd like to go hiking with them for a weekend in Czech-Switzerland. Without thinking, I said "why not" because A) hiking sounded like something I should do in Switzerland, and B) what single person really listens when married people say stuff, anyway?

Details are that we're leaving at 9:30am on that Saturday morning. Because of all the days I would choose to wake up before 12:30pm in the month of June, a Saturday would certainly be one of them. Brilliant plan!! As for my brilliant plan? Log a rather pedestrian 6:30am night (as 6:30am nights tend to go), and stumble back to Casa de Tasca to steal some sleep.

I wake up about two hours later to the not-so-disturbing sentation someone tenderly, yet fervently licking my foot. Nice! I look up and find out it's the dog, which I'm totally ok with. I learn a short time later that my foot has been baited with peanut butter, which honestly, kind of ruins the fantasy. I wake up grumpy as hell, and Raffy, laughing, needs to be told that had she put the peanut butter elsewhere, I may have woken with a slightly more pleasant disposition. I guess that should come as a surprise to no one...

I pack up and pull myself together, albeit sans shower, and am in the car in perfect Ar0nson Time; about 9:50am. Come to find out that there is another couple involved here too, and now I'm the 5th-wheeling, hungover, random friend in backseat. Ipods were made for these occasions. Power>Playlists>Trance>Play>[snore].

I wake up many hours later, mildly refreshed, taunted by everyone that they stopped for food when I'm CLEARLY hungry, and greeted with the news that we're almost there.

"Am I ready to hike??? I'm going to climb the SHIT out of that mountain!!"

I soon learn that Czech-Switzerland is actually nowhere near Switzerland at all. In fact, it has nothing to do with Switzerland, and why should I really think that anything Czech should? This is like if I took you to Manasquan and called it Jersey Maui.

Naughty By Nature knows this ideal, calling Jersey City "Chilltown," which I've since adopted. That's similarly brilliant. Boogie-Down Bronx, Garden State, these guys all get it. My parents live in Smyrna, DE, or: Walmart's Taint. Now we're getting somewhere...

So in terms of actual accomplishments, I did totally dominate the "mountain" which was about as challenging a hike as Tripod Rock in northern Jersey. I guess that's why they call it Czech-Switzerland? It's the most Switzerland the Czech Rep. has to offer, really. There were some cool views, of which pictures will be posted soon, I promise. Once again, Blogger is not really down with uploads. [This Blogger is actually a really shitty product. But I digress...]

Those of you wanting pictures are going to have to wait until I put together some Snapfish action or something. If you wanted to see these places badly enough, you'd put down your protractors, drown your lousy kids, and book a flight. In the event that sounds like more work than you're apt to sign up for, then be patient and I'll try to get something up this week.

Side story: the other couple that went with us to Czech-Switzerland has since been breaking or is broken up. All I know is that the guy, Arin, is not a guy I'd want to take anywhere more than 10 meters from a bike trail, and Nino's dished him my number without asking. Now Arin and I are hanging out tomorrow. Boy, am I psyched. Did I say psyched? I meant teeth-gnashingly furious. Nino has serious payback coming....

Long Live the City of Titties

So, my Dad told me the other day that I should consider cleaning this blog up a bit, and make it a little more mature. It immediately became clear to me that he didn't understand the nature of this thing at all, and as such, the title of this entry is an homage to that request. Mmmm... titties.... You're welcome, Dad!!!

Seriously though... Prague is incredible. I mean, it's a beautiful city in terms of overall aesthetics and all that; with their many parks and the Vltava River and gorgeous architecture... but the real beauty lies beneath the shirts of the women of the Czech Republic. I've been discussing with my friend Nino, at considerable length mind you, and our concensus opinion (can you have a concensus between two people?) is that it comes down to a combination of the beer and the unpasteurized cheese.

Which brings me to another point: America sucks. Many of you have heard me soapbox my way through a diatribe about America and it's puritanical horsewhipping ways of life. Now, after being in the Czech Republic for two weeks, I've come to realize that it really is as absurd back home as I always thought it was. And now that I know what pasteurizing cheese does to a woman's cup size, I'm even more pissed off!!!

Here in Prague, the shadow of communism still casts a rather long shadow. Aside from the fact that Czechoslovakia split up and became two democratic states just 18 years ago, the communist feel is most present through the permeating vibe of the people. Think of communism in Prague as if it were body odor coming off of an IT guy in a crowded elevator; he knows you smell it, because it's there... but it shouldn't be, and why should I have to put up with 12 floors of rancid funk when it's bad enough I have three months of interest accruals to review? Fuck that guy; take a shower! Even if it's Puerto Rican...

Wait. Where was I? Oh yea, so you sense communism everywhere here. The fashion is borderline absurd, and according to the Czech people I've met, they have a general reluctance to trust strangers. You know, I remember thinking that way too. Yea, in second fucking grade. But after 13 weeks in that basement cellar, I eventually grew the hell up and realized that Uncle Mike was really doing all those things for my own good. And to that effect, I'm sure sooner or later, the Czech people will come to blame communism on their father's alcoholism and absenteeism.

Point is, with all of these indications of recent communist rule, the Czech Republic still manages to be more progressive than America. For one thing, there is no open container law here. If I want a beer on my way to meet people to get drunk on more beer, I'll do it without the foreboding feeling that some a-hole cop is around the corner, and has been waiting all day to ruin my free-wheeling good time so that he can go back to the station and brag to his band of flunkies about what a douche I am for thinking that I could get away with it.

Secondly, beer here is literally cheaper than water. The supermarket price of a 0.5L bottle of Pilsner Urqell: $0.80. Double that if you're swilling them over a ham and eggs breakfast at the cafe around noon the way I do... Ok, 1:30.

Finally, and most importantly, it is socially acceptable for a woman to sunbathe topless in the park here. Granted, it doesn't happen often... but when it does, the birds sing a sweeter tune and I find myself with a spring in my step that just doesn't happen in Tompkins Square. And really, don't all these things add up to what life should really be about? It took these people a few short years to enact policies that dramatically improve their quality of life. Things like drinking cheap (good) beers and ogling boobs in the park are basic human impulses that have been robbed from us without our even knowing it. It's unconscionable, and I won't stand for it.

Aside from all that, I've seen some stuff too that I'm sure translates in rather boring fashion via Lame-O-Blog. I'll hook up some Shutterfly or something to post pictures of things if anyone cares enough to flip through. I'll post the link here when that happens.

In the meantime, I've posted a picture of the fountain in front of the worst museum I've ever stepped foot in. Nevermind that the info was all in Czech; they had about as many fossils in there as I'd likely find on an average night after the early-bird lets out at Shula's Steakhouse in Boca Raton. So, for all of you out there that couldn't wait to hit up the natural history museum here in Prague: keep your shirts on. But you ladies can feel free to shed them in any one of the many parks showcasing a smattering of eye candy for the deprived eyes of oppressed Americans.


NOTE: Blogger was being a douche and wouldn't let me post a picture of the world's worst museum. I'll get that up there when I figure out why the whole world is against me.

UPDATE: here it is. Worst. Museum. Ever.