Poppin & (Inter) Laken

Sooo....

The three amigos were left in Munich and and we became bums in Switzerland. The new country was started by sleeping in the Zurich train station on the comfy metal wire benches.

After the restful 3 hour sleep with few interruptions from zamboni like cleaners, fake luanas, margs, and the Zurich Police Department, who were cleaning out the low lifes from the station, we arrived in Interlaken. However, before we were lucky enough to get on the train we had to deal with a bowel movement or two. Mike (mickey's grown up name) needed to deuce. The problem with Switzerland is that their McClean bathrooms require money and since we spent all of our money on locking our bags up Mike could only afford to use the urinal and just hold it until later. And Molly either cant poop or has liquid poos... which one is better???? Noone will ever know. Either she fiends for cheese and nutella but cant poop or gives up her goods to achieve some balance in her pooper region.



Upon arrival in Interlaken we were all pooped....haha you get it? WE attempted to have an authentic Indian/Mexican meal but couldn't stay awake to enjoy it. Sean had Chicken nuggets?

The extreme level needed to be upgraded so while strolling down the mean streets of I-Tilla we stumbled upon a 450ft gondola bungee jump (2nd highest gondola jump in the world) and of course we bowed to it and beasted it.

We came, we saw, we fell very far.

Mike and Sean decided that the extreme level needed to be raised yet again so they did a manly pinky-swear to agree on jumping out backwards. Being the Swan that Sean is he did a sideways flail fall swan dive. Meanwhile, Molly witnessed a Swiss bloke take a massive hit from a joint right before jumping. Man he was so high he had no idea what was going on.




We had a run in with some sleepy Asians but it turns out we were the wrong party so we got kicked out of the tent and eventually found our real tent at our hostel.

The next day was great. We went canyoning and for those of you who dont know what that is....LEARN..because its sweet. Molly fell in love again... This time it was Luke, a local Swiss canyoning guide who dabbled in basketball. We all took on new names for our adventure based on personality and head size.. Mike= Cobra, Molly=Yoda, Sean=Digi Bo (korean for inside out, WTF)

It was a great success (in your best borat voice (unless youre Mickey))!!!

We ran into some Cave Creeps or people from Cave Creek a small hamlet in Arizona famous for its fine crop of Foleys.


(this is Mickey and Terrell, who thinks the only cool places in the world are Amsterdam and Cave Creek... go figure)

It was a sunny afternoon that was soon turned into a hazy atmosphere, probably from the air show...

After a neverending game of beer pong Mickey and Molly met back up with Sean. There we discovered the bar in our hostel and ending it with some Luke creeping and basketball talks. No great success here :-(

The next day was a doozey. It was kicked off with a hike that never wanted to start. It was a wee bit more difficult than expected. Sean dropped out early after multiple 30min long arguments over the future directions of the hike. Mickey adn Molly made it to the top only to run into more Cave Creeps and hazy atmospheres. BBQ chips were bartered for.... how do you say in Swiss.... more uplifting experiences.

Later the three of us met up again. Some napping was in order after a brief meal of Croatian Cevapys doused in ketchup and mayo, mickeys new favorite. Molly made friends with The Dentist because he was from Arizona, go figure everyone in Switzerland is from Arizona. He soon became Mickeys co-creeping comrade and Mollys personal teeth cleaning instructor. After a few games of Black Jack for Absinthe the crew went to bed, only to have nightmares about 'ZO! To be explained later.

Off to France to meet Dave (dad's alter ego)

SPECIAL EDITION

The long awaited.......KOREAN SORCEROR!!

Backblogged

so we've got some catching up to do...
the last night in munich deserves an ode to itself, so here it goes:
we were planning on keeping a low profile due to our extensive outing in the beer garten. we headed back to our hostel, and then we got the urge to rally. we checked out some local pub crawls, but then no other margs showed up, so we didn't want to look lame and go by ourselves. mickey and molly were sharing a pitcher of fine german brew at the wombar, and molly struck up conversation with three air force academy graduates on their last few days in europe. a few brews later, we decided more brews were a good plan. we caravaned down to the local beer house, haufbrauhaus. the sight before our eyes was like god smiling down on us, naming us his chosen people.
for miles there were liter beers, drunken old men, thrifty swiss youngsters, and above all, sausage. actually, above sausage, there was this sweet band. but the band was a sausage fest. with mustachioed oompa men. they played oompa music. you know, the music that germans with mustaches play when they get tubas.

sausage #2: white veal sausage. served in a pot of boiling water. softer than david hasselhoff in a strip club.

sausage #3: yellow sausage. he was the first korean guy to come up and conduct the band with a stray drumstick.

Sausage #3 inspired a new generation of guest conductors. Let's run through the list:
-Big John Goodman doppelganger who held the baton like a pencil.
-13-year-old Harry Potter doppelganger after being cursed with dark arts of drunk. very smiley, even when he fell off the stage!
-Mickey Mozart. A crowd favorite.
-The Great Korean Sorcerer. Source of infinite giggle fits not seen since the Baby Dinoasaur days, Achilles heel for the Make Me Laugh game.

AFter almost being accomplices in the Great Swiss Hofbrauhaus Heist, we busted out and Molly ate more meat.

Walk home:
Sean and Steve got turned down from the Hard Rock Cafe, for reasons unknown to them but very clear to everyone else.

Mickey and the young Scot peed in a water drain with a great view of the Brauhaus.
Attempted BMX trickery with a self-locked bike failed.
Rap battle minstrelry.
Sounds of Music.
New Game! Name that movie character. One player provides an actor and a movie, the other player must give the actor's character's full name in that movie.

After the great walk home, Mickey plopped on furniture frequently and in multiple locations. Molly discussed remote sensing with the Bode Miller lookalike. Some dude spilled Sean's beer but bought him a new one. Mickey returned to the dorm with one shoe.

Sean continued to blaze ahead in the vomit standings, with the first episode induced by alcohol and not Croad stench. Congrats Sean++!

Prague was next. We all met up in the Aria Hotel with Belkis. The hotel and all our meals were far beyond our backpacking means, and very much appreciated.

We went to the much-hyped 5-story club ("The biggest in Middle Europe") and found more sausage. But this time it was a bad thing. For Mickey and Sean. Maybe just Sean

Sean ran into Hillary Darragh from ETHS

We ran into a Norwegian couple on our final night. Many rounds of cheap Czech beer were consumed, and our new female friend started creeping around. She invited Molly to a traditional Norwegian dance and puked in the bathroom and then had more beer and another pack of cigarettes. Let's visit the fjords!!!!!!!!!!!





-

Über

Contrary to popular opinions... we are still alive!!

Much has happened since the last post.

We are in Munich now...WTF? But how did we get here is the burning question...

Instead of going to Switzerland for the 4th/5th of July (momentous holidays in US and A) we hit up that young Florence, Italy. Oh snap was it nice.

Upon arrival in Florence we went to get some real food after not eating a tastey delight in nearly 9 days in Croad-land. While at dinner Mickey had his first ever multiple mouth-gasm from the tastes of his sausage...which Sean kindly stole the last bite to prevent a severe depression upon realization that the sausage was no more.

Then there was the typical Muldoon wandering for the night. We stumbled upon the Duomo in the middle of Florence. Mickey then followed up with another grouping of mind-blowing mind-gasms at the sight of the Duomo. As Molly and Sean sat on the stairs and people watched Molly made a 'friend' in an authentic Luigi named Jimmy. Coincidencently this was the second Jimmy of the day. The first being Jimi Tripoli our ACCOMODATION (in croatian broken english) for the following night. We would later find out that Jimi would become a life long friend. He invited us to his home-garden in Calabria (southern italy) next time we're in the neighborhood. Anywho, Molly made a date with 20 going on 16 year old Jimmy. Sean swooped in so we could bounce... more wandering.

The following day we did some Muldoonesque sight seeing. We went to the Academia to see the David. However the line was longer than jew's horns in the summer. So we crept to the exit of the building. From the building we could see the David himself as the doors opened so people could go. This was not enough though. Mickey and Molly crept inside the doors once someone came out, only to be yelled at by a fem-luigi... but they did get closer to the naked dude. Sean waited outside to post bail if needed. Following this sight we bounced to the real Academia school to sneak around and see if we could commandeer some no-name sculptures.

Back at the hostel we met this cool chick named Sara or Sara from Florida was Jimi always referred to her. She was from Florida. She went to dinner with us. Wandered from bar to bar on Americas birthday and then on Mollys as well... good peoples.

As we were on a trek to see this skateboarding, punk, bmx, graffiti concert thing that was all in Italian so we actually had no idea where or what it was Sean had to poop..again. We slip into a pub and ask for the WC and this bloke points us in the right direction. Sean went it the room being trailed by Molly. 'Molly, wheres the toilet? Theres no toilet in this bathroom!' 'Are your sure whats in that room?' 'Its just some storage closet with some drainage hole in the ground... oh fuck that is the toilet!!!!!'

Sean spray pooped while hoovering over a slight depression in the ground in a pub in Florence. Does that still happen in civilazed countries?

Birthday night - space electronica...double trouble....sweat....a new Jimmy.
We danced our asses off to the most hoppinest beats in Firenze. It was here that Molly found her true love (as was foretold in her tarrot card reading). This new Jimmy is a ballet dancer in Florence, soon moving to the US. The evening progressed from him liking our company, to him attempting to move to California to be with Molly. Mixed feelings about the overall feeling of Jimmy, but he was extreme. Good birthday...Molly felt old, but also found some sort of mystical plateau to reside on.

Sadly, all good things must come to an end. Good Bye Italy hello Germany.

The trek to Germany was an adventure... our first overnight train.

When we found our 'room' it was a sardine can. 6 beds in a room that had space for 2 beds and a midget stool. Once we worked our magic though we had more space and and were comfertable with our digs... or so we thought.

About 1am and 3 hours of sleep deep some hard core Luigi pounded on the door. Anticipating the possibility of a fool joining us we had made the bed directly above Sean and below Molly. Oncec the fool came in though that bed was not good enough for him. He made Sean get up move all our shit form one of the other beds so he could sleep on the bottom bunk on the other side. Sean had a dream he killed this guy Army Ranger style so noone would ever know.

Gütten Tag Duetcheland.

Mickey kicked off the new country with another mind-gasm at the efficiency of the public transportation in Germany. After arriving at 630am we easily made the few tram/bus rides to our 'hostel' or cheap shitty hotel for 14 year old traveling prepubescent unsophisticated loud annoying unattractive groups of kids as Sean likes to call it.

Nap Time

More Wandering

We wandered around the Marienplatz just vibin' it out for a while. Then eventually a game plan was put together. Wander some more.

We walked around the downtowny shopping areaish and were marveled by all the people around. Sean bought a footy kit. Molly re-stunned after the traumatic departure with the Molly Goggles. Mickey watched accordian man... HARD. Time for the Glockenshpeal. What is that anyways. We went out the the open area that had a grip of people standing around the clock. We witnessed some poorly macanical display at 5pm. Serious Germany vibe kill. In case you were wondering the Blue Knight won...who cares it sucked.

Off the the Englisher Garden (the biggest and baddest beer garden ever)

All three of us had simulatous mind-gasms at the sight of the open field filled with naked men with large members, thousands of drunken fools, LOUNGING TO THE EXTREME, marijuana mecca (minus amsterdam), good vibe, bongo drums, hippies, guitar circles, a stream, at least 34565 cute beans and lady beans (owned by people vs the strays in croad-atia), and liter beers.

We woke up to Xzibit´s Concentrate...Good Omen...

Agglutinize....Capitalize....Circumcize

In Hvar no Marrr

hey friends,
so after 5 days in Hvar, we're beginning to rival Toni Kucoc for level of Croat. Our little hostel, complete with our British girls and Swedish boys and a few Aussies thrown in for good measure, was more than we ever could have expected. The owner, Luca, was amazing, his silent helper Tika was creepy in a good way, and the cheap wine flowed like.....wine.
During the day we hit up the pebble-rock beach (Croats appear impervious to the pains of lying on jagged rocks for hours) with people we drunkenly met the night before (including Molly's latest British obsession). We snack throughout the day on bread and water, sometimes a rotten banana if we're lucky. At night we head down to the city center for our only meal of the day, then get ready to preparty with our hostel family. Sean took the liberty to teach the innocent Swedes every disgusting Americanism he could imagine. We then hit up the club, Carpe Diem, where we've gotten into the habit of distributing challenges to each other. Mickey and Sean attempted to impersonate a deaf man and his interpreter to charm Irish girls (who happened to be staying at our hostel and heard the whole plan and also actually knew sign language). After having their bluff called, they succeeded in tricking a few dumb Aussies.
We move up to the other club in the fortress and dance like idiots until the sun comes up. A few highlights not in the normal routine include: pioneering our own boat around the islands, secret trips to secret coves, grandma smiles across the world, Mickey taking creepy videos of naked men playing with themselves, Molly's sea urchin attack, overtaking a prime landing spot in the club from a local croad, Sean being hit on by a Norwegian man, Molly having a band named after her, goodbye dinners, riding the bus with fainting girls, and taking too many pictures of local cats.
All in all, we're feeling the loss of Hveaven pretty deep. We really miss the people and sights, plus the croads in Dubrovnik are shifty. From here, we're making some pretty radical traveling plans...mostly none at all. The tentative plan is to be in Switzerland to bungee jump for Molly's bday and our country's independence. Also Prague. And Absinthe.

Structural Update:
We've devised a rudimentary government among the three of us. Farkling decides bedding arrangments, 2/3 majority rules, and each member of the cabinet is allowed one veto per day, giving them complete power. There have already been military juntas, filibusters, and baby-dinosaur-esque temper tantrums.

until next time...
spiriTualize, aggrAndize, superSize

Hvar Hrvatska Croad to the Bone

ok ... The last blog had us arriving in the beautiful town of Split. But we've split tharr. We're in Hvar.

Sadly, the ferry that brought us to Croatia from Italy was docked in the Split harbor, and with it, came its signature Croad stench wafting over the otherwise beautiful seaside promenade. We've learned that the only way to neutralize the Croad stench is to saturate our clothes in cigarette smoke. It's the Croat way.

We brought along a camcorder with us, and we first attempted to do some hard-nosed video journalism during our night in Split. We approached a few random people and asked some questions about the effect of Toni Kucoc -- a Croatian basketball player who played for the Bulls -- on Croatian culture. We were met with nervous glances, shaking heads, and very incomprehensible English. The project was a terrible failure (though we've got some promising leads on the project from local islanders). Mickey consoled himself by purchasing a "Croat to the bone" tshirt and cutting off the sleeves.

Hvar is really beautiful and we've finally met a few fellow travelers. There are about ten people staying in our house here, including a maybe-up-and-probably-not-coming band from Sweden. We had a big Croatian barbeque here last night, and with no vegetarian options on the table, MOLLY ATE LITTLE CROATIAN SAUSAGES AND LOVED THEM. They were a true delight.

We went out with the hostel people to over-hyped club Carpe Diem and siezed the opportunity to finally take the drunk to the next level.

Mickey -- 90% squintage, 10% visibility
Molly -- started a revolution with the Swedes
Sean -- invited copious beard-stroking from partygoers

Today we began our new eating regimen -- The Jesus Diet --- of bread and water.

After an hour hike, we made it to a great crystal-clear beach that was also teeming with naked old ladies. One of them spent the entire day picking up trash on the beach, wearing absolutely nothing. The Croatian way.

Grown Ass Children

So we're all alone in Croatia...it was a sad goodbye to Belkis, Josh, and the girls, then a serious travel experience from Rome to Split. Throughout our maiden journey there was a general theme of incompetence and sourpuss Italian attitudes. We never got proper directions, patience with the language barrier, or organization. With a few amazing examples, people sort of sucked. Here's how our trip so far breaks down:
Airport in Rome to train station in Rome - everyone seemed to think we already knew everything there was to know about traveling in Italy. The train station was huuuggge and we got the runaround from multiple Roman Snakes. In the process of getting our train passes validated, the head Roman Snake only gave Mickey 15 travel days (instead of the two months he paid big moneys for). As he was explaining her snakehood to her, she made the exact same mistake on Molly's ticket.
Rome to Ancona - a fairly uneventful four-hour train ride, other than general discomfort. The seats were taken straight from Six Flags-Great America and Sean almost puked everywhere. The bathroom was a notch below port-a-potty, with a stench unmatched (until the ferry ride). We saw some cool countryside and some hoppin beaches, and feasted on tasties stolen from the nice hotel that morning (including Nutella, the food of the gods).
Ancona to Split - this is where things got interesting. We got the first class cabin, so we figured it would be more like a cruise than a ferry. We got off the bus at the right stop completely by chance, and relaxed before boarding. Once we got on, we realized we had been tossed into a labrynth from hell. Once we finally did find our room, we discovered the people had neglected to give us our key. Upon entry to our delux accomodations, we were instantly transported back to 1941. It was the most depressing, dark, fake-windowed room we had ever seen. The beds came complete with sleeping tubes, and the toilet got seasick, gurgling and throwing up the most putrid scent ever imagined (think dead porpoise mixed with amuzement park vomit mixed with Mickey's BO). We mingled a bit with the under-16 Croatian boys basketball team and enjoyed our flask of rum and lemoncello on the deck. Sean decided to take it to the next level by puking all over every inch of one of the public restrooms. We got up for a delux breakfast at 6 am (awoken by the sweet sound of someone viciously banging on our door and another toilet gurgle episode). We arrived in Split at around 7 am and wandered to our hostel to leave our bags. We were immediately scolded by the whorebitch innkeeper for not waiting long enough by the door. We are now wandering around the beautiful city of Split, not recognizing a word, catching faint hints of the haunting ferry toilet smell.
Today's plan is to hit the beach, catch some sleep, and start making our mark here. Tara Reid came here once, so it's probably going to get crazy at the cluuuuuuu

Stay tuned, this part of the trip is bound to be blog-worthy


Hypnotize Hampsterize Debowelize