I’m very tired and have to wake up at 6am to go for a 7 hr tour of the Tuscan countryside and also take pictures of myself holding up the tower of Pisa with my cock. Just kidding, this is a family site.
What can I say about today?
I had extreme high anxiety about catching the Milan train to Florence, since I was the only one paying attention to the time. But I don’t want to come across as this giant piece of shit complain box — because I’m not. I just do it for you losers reading the blog. In real life, I’m stoic, not out of choice but necessity. Because if I really let me true feelings bust loose, I’d be in a lunatic asylum.
Grandma Fly hated all things today, especially the pizza in Florence. She said it had “no sale” and was “terible”. Almost everywhere we go the Europeans offer her special treatment because she’s old and with cane. In America, they toss her out of the way and try to grab her purse on her way down.
Back in the olde days when I had hopes and aspirations, I used to get really excited over things. I’d hypofocus on everything and obsess with small details to elevate whatever experience I was into at the time. For example, if I had planned this trip a decade ago, I’d have reservations for bucket list restaurants to visit and lots of stuff to do. Nowadays, I find this to be futile, since I’m with people who really don’t care if we ate at the best trattoria in the world or MACDONALDS. Truth is, I really don’t care and just wade through it in order to achieve finality.
Sure, I might indulge and even check out Yelp before bed and get somewhat excited about a thing. But just know, my dreams will be shattered shortly thereafter by demands that we spend time to be true out to do laundry. Now this might seem insane to you, as it is to me. But I’ve come to appreciate the dumber things in life and have resigned myself to doing just 1 thing with extreme care and excellence: my trading.
Notice I’ve been off from trading and barely blogging or keeping up with the war news and rooting for Putin. See, I’m a good person and some might say I deserve good things. But I’ll never expect it and I’ll never do anything for credits, points, or adoration.
It’s over for me. But if you’re younger than me, it’s not too late for yourselves to save your life from becoming racked with abject insanity.
My opinion of Florence is as follows:
This is the best part of Italy so far and the people are authentic. The city hasn’t been updated since the 1300s and they haven’t removed the fucking city walls or gates yet. It’s orders of magnitude better than Milan, which was a filthy city covered in graffiti. The one thing that concerned me about Florence when I first entered it was an over abundance of whites. I actually feared for my safety but soon came upon several dozen Africans as black as coal and felt relieved and better almost instantly.
NOTE: Our very elaborate and extensive tour of Tuscany angered ANTIFA Fly just now upon learning he had to actually leave the bus to walk. He was hoping to just walk around eating pizza and insulting family members at his leisure — but now finds himself with the responsibility of needing to exert energy to see wonderful scenery and historically important artifacts that will neither impress him or leave him with anything remotely positive to say about it. Again, I take full responsibility for this.
CIAO.
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Now, remember, … with the kids … they’re 1/4 you, 1/4 your wife, and 1/2 their own damn selves.
Don’t be too hard on yourself.