Arrivaderci Bitches! - Milan Special Pt 1.

Happy and Excited at Edinburgh Airport.

Arrivaderci bitches! As I write this I'm currently bout 10 million feet off the ground in an airplane headed to Milan, Italy with the Missus in tow. And before you ask, yes I have asked if I could join the Mile High club. Initially I was hopeful, but the look on the Missus' face gave me my answer. To be fair, perhaps I should have asked to join the Mile High club with her, rather than some of the pretty passengers. So a few days in Milan seeing the sights will do me a world of good. The Missus is taking all her nicest clothes with her, as it is one of the world's foremost fashion hotspots. I too am taking some of my finery, and I'm confident I will be amongst some of the more fashion-conscious Milanese homeless community. The pinnacle of my fashionable accessories is my old fart "bunnet" hat bought in a Glasgow shop, but with the impression that it was stolen from a sleeping pensioner on a bus. In the lead up to this brief little visit the Missus asked me to draw up a rough itinerary for our stay. After a full day searching and thinking I managed 'Visit the San Siro stadium'. I'm such a bloody boy sometimes.

The Alps, from My Airplane Window.

Ohhh by the way, I just sneakily felt the Missus' boob. So as far as I'm concerned I'm now an official bonafide member of the Mile High club :-D. Anyway, whilst the missus sits embarrassed and seething, let me tell you about what's been happening recently. My standup career is really going surprisingly well, with me entertaining audiences all over the city. The crowd laugh, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it is out of pity more than anything else. I've unfortunately been neglecting my writing duties both here, and in my Glaswegian newspaper column, something which I shall endevour to rectify post haste.


We're Staying in Milan for 3 days at a 5 star hotel. Now I know what you are wondering - 'How can he afford to stay in 5 star luxury when he is so bloody poor all the time?'. Well it's basically thanks to the Missus and the nature of her job. She gets to do these things, whilst I am the poor arty-farty writer scribbling away my thoughts on this gadget thingy like a squirrel hiding nuts in a tree. We'll be visiting the Duomo di Milano (In other words, the bollocking great cathedral) and also some Castello Dforzesco place too. I'm expecting the tour of the Duomo to cost a fortune. The one thing Italians know how do do, apart from play horrendously boring yet crushingly effective football, is make money out of religion. The last time I lived in Italy it was Florence (or Firenze if you're Italian, or an arsehole) and I once went on a day trip to Assissi, of St Francis fame. The Basilica there was beautiful in every way, but if you wanted to see where St Frankie was buried you had to pay, and if you wanted a candle then you had to pay 2 Euros. Scandalously, they then asked you to put it back in another container a mere six feet away. So you paid 2 Euros to carry a candle six feet. Like I said, a tremendous amount of money in religion.

Happy and Having Fun on Our Balcony.

 I must say, the cabin crew have been absolutely lovely, and have treated us well, especially when one came to collect the rubbish and I asked if he would take away the Missus. The Missus then promptly asked how good the flush on the toilet was to the bemused steward. She then said "I have 14 stones of shit to get rid of before I arrive". Touche Missus, touche. I guess you could count this trip as a pre-wedding honeymoon. Why go on a honeymoon BEFORE the wedding? Well I figured that since most marriages end in divorce, we may as well get the fun stuff out of the way. In fact since the marriage statistically won't last, we may as well get it out of the way as soon as possible. That's why on the morning of the wedding I will be filing for divorce. I'm sure the Missus will appreciate the thoughtfulness. I will keep you up to date with how the holiday goes, but for now, buon giorno bitches. 

***UPDATE***

We have now arrived at our hotel and are attempting to chill out. Milan city centre is absolutely fucking insane. Crazy drivers, suicidal pedestrians and so many people cutting in front of one another in queues that it could have been London in summer. Like I said, having lived in Italy before, I was used to this and expected it, but poor old the Missus didn't and got herself so worked up that she had steam coming out of her eyes. We decided to take a walk tp the local shopping centre, which immediately made me feel like I was back in the Buchanan Galleries (which is kind of defeating the purpose of going abroad). In these galleries we were stopped by security and had our shopping bags searched for no reason other than the guard was being a prick. I asked him "Is it cos I is black?", but he didn't understand and continued rummaging around our bags. He got frightened off when I asked to see his warrant, and threatened to call the Carabinieri if he didn't stop it. Fucking twat. We're currently sitting watching the Italian edition of The Voice (Which is like Eurovision, only even shitter) with a bottle of prosecco trying to digest today's events. So until tomorrow, buona sera bitches.