Rhianna came to get me Sunday morning and we headed off to Venice. She finally got her run away from the kids day and a sex museum was her second choice. I felt a little bad that she had to come get me, plus doubly so after this morning (another post, later). We had a blast, even counting the nearly two hours it took us to find the place. When the website says steps from St. Mark's Square? They mean it - if you go in the right direction. Asking Carbs, polizia and waiters for directions? Not much help. Buy a map and then ask the souvenier store owner to mark it up for you. That works.
The museum itself was pretty cool. Some of the pieces were downright disturbing but they were still evocative. It was absolutely fabulous to be able to wander through a museum for a couple hours without hearing "I'm bored" or "I want something to drink." We were giggling rather inappropriately in some parts but personally I just couldn't help it. Lemme just say I'll never be able to watch Wallace and Grommit the same way again.
Afterwards we got some gelato - I stand by my statement that tiramisu and mint chocolate chip is not a strange combination. We sat on the steps of St. Mark's square to eat it. Just after we were done, one of the six billion pigeons of the Piazza shat on Rhianna's arm. Being the fabulous friend that I am, I promptly slid a couple feet down from her. Not sure why. Pigeon shit is like lightening - it never hits the same place twice.
It really was a ton of fun. Plus the shock factor I've gained from saying "Oh, I went to a sex museum over the weekend" is great!
The museum itself was pretty cool. Some of the pieces were downright disturbing but they were still evocative. It was absolutely fabulous to be able to wander through a museum for a couple hours without hearing "I'm bored" or "I want something to drink." We were giggling rather inappropriately in some parts but personally I just couldn't help it. Lemme just say I'll never be able to watch Wallace and Grommit the same way again.
Afterwards we got some gelato - I stand by my statement that tiramisu and mint chocolate chip is not a strange combination. We sat on the steps of St. Mark's square to eat it. Just after we were done, one of the six billion pigeons of the Piazza shat on Rhianna's arm. Being the fabulous friend that I am, I promptly slid a couple feet down from her. Not sure why. Pigeon shit is like lightening - it never hits the same place twice.
It really was a ton of fun. Plus the shock factor I've gained from saying "Oh, I went to a sex museum over the weekend" is great!
2 Comments:
You do a post about kids' artwork and they're all over it. Write a post about the naughty museum and you can hear a pin drop.
There is something very wrong with that concept. Much like those leather bicycle seats...& not quite Wallace & Grommit. ;)
You're not kidding. At least I finally see the appeal of full-blown mommy blogging.
And guess what the older boy asked to watch tonight? Yep. W&G.
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