Ciao Italia: Live from Italy

Hold up, hold up, hold up - before you think I am about to start singing "Who's That Girl", or at the very least emulate the Queen as she writhes and whirls along Venetian canals singing along to "Like a Virgin" - let me just say that, no - that will not happen.

Although I can only hope that there are people out there who will certainly enjoy that, I'm not about to in my current state of mind - being offline for a week while I cruised (double entendre intended, although the "cruising" part was unoften and unsuccessful), and finally trying to catch up with myself after 3 and a bit weeks of being away from home. I am here, barely - as I just realised I have 31 hours of flying time ahead of me crossing the Atlantic tomorrow to NYC then the Pacific next weekend to get home.

I do miss home somewhat, except glad I am away this week as it will be M-A-D-ness in the wonderful walls within Emerald City as the Pope graces the "great Southern land of the Holy Spirit" (did he really mean NZ? I think dude was confused, I mean look at him - can we say car-azy?!) and with about 200K pilgrims sampling Sydney's world-renowned gay clubs and saunas, oops - I mean Sydney's great open spaces for camping and manic Kumbayah-ing. Imagine adding 5% to a population in a week, that's an Olympic-sized audience, the gay bars won't know what hit 'em.

So while the Pope visits my home, I got to do a little switcher-oo as my little journey has taken me to Roma - his home. Or should I say the seat of Roman Catholicism amid the clusterfuck of old remaining buildings dotting this fine city.
Check me looking all pious. I am repenting my evil gay ways. Although, let it be known that since I got to London three weeks ago and traveling as I did - I have never been so touched and surprised by the deep deep roots of Christianity I was subjected to as I visited Church, after museum after monastery, after grave - that I felt this huge surge of guilt about sodomism. To avoid any Circles of Dante's Hell - I just gave head instead. Wait, did I just say that? It's the nasty gin they served at a bar called Hangar earlier tonight - making me all honest. I really went to Rome to absolve sins and wash my unholiness in the many holy fountains in the city (or should that be watering holes).

And so before we get back to regular programming, sing (or writhe) along. Watch Madonna's Like a Virgin from the Confessions Tour