aww... man. come. on.

it's literally raining cats and dogs here in rome... well, maybe not actually 'literally,' but you get my drift... the tiber is really flooded - the sidewalks on the river walk are under about 2 feet of water and it's still raining... thank you, mussolini for building the river walls, otherwise, my flat would probably be like a hobbit-hole-fish-tank this evening/morning [whatever it is, now]...

camille and bradley returned from paris this evening. to celebrate their return from lovely paris, we decided to go to a grand restaurant in trastevere called 'il duca' [also on rome’s ‘top 10 list’, by the way] - wonderful food... actually, all i had was the 'fiori di zucca' and crème caramel, some wine and a cappucino... mmm. we decide that it's high time that we get back to the stu-stu-studio [said/sung to the mtv 'pop-up video' tune] so that we can get some work done [ugh, i know...].

well, mr. snobster drives by in his wonderfully snotty porsche boxster and, of course, drives through the largest puddle possible at the highest speed possible, right bloody beside me!!! i am currently soaked. i mean, my jeans [that i just washed and waited for four days to so they would dry so that i could finally wear them again, i might add] are sopping wet up to my mid thigh and my beautiful camel coat is soaked. i should have chased after the bastard and spit water in his window and asked how he liked being wet when he hadn't asked for it... and then told him that he could expect my dry cleaning bill for the coat, thank you. but i guess that i will come another day. i can dream. right? i mean, putting a snotty, inconsiderate, rich, i-drive-my-porsche-while-you-have-to-walk-in-the-pouring-rain jerk in his place would be positively delightful... shallow, yes. but brilliant nonetheless. one day. one day...

mr. boxster-man, watch out who you splash next time, because i'll be armed with a mouth-full of water and ready for you!!! [threat, of course, followed by maniacal laughter... so, insert that here.]