I keep hoping I’ll see that fuckhole Rick Steves while I’m over here. Yes, that Rick Steves, PBS Rick Steves, Mr. Knows All About Europe, I’m Going To Punch Him In The Face Rick Steves.
We’ve got one of his travel books with us, a real treasure trove of fucking wisdom. If you turn to the last page of the book, you can see ads for a series he calls “Europe Through The Back Door,” promising a host of exciting Back Door Tours. It probably wouldn’t hurt him to ask his hip young nephew whether or not his new book titles contain references to anal sex.
We did not have a very high opinion of Venice, and we were glad to leave it on a train for Munich a few days ago. The thing is, it wasn’t even Venice’s fault. I blame Dick Steves.
We were staying in a hotel that was about 100 Euro a night, which is to say about a million US dollars. Keep in mind that this is a hotel we found in his Book Of Lies. When we went in to get our key, we saw that there was even a Rick Steves tour staying in the hotel, and since this was when we still liked him we thought this was a good sign.
We became very itchy in the night. I thought I was just hot, but it eventually became so intense that I turned the light on and threw back the sheet. What I saw were black columns of insects lining up to take a bite of my business. Me, I mean, that’s how I would write about it. Ants were biting my balls. That cockjockey Steves would probably say some shit about Discovering Venice’s Tiniest Citizens. I’m going to choke him with a belt.