You don't want to see the Mona Lisa
You don't want to see the Mona Lisa. Trust me on this.
First off is the horror show that is international travel. A groping comes free with admission. And it turns out there is a reason that the baggage claim is a few miles away (hint: they don't have to work so hard unloading the plane).
Second, the painting is in the Louvre, an ex-royal palace. It's effing huge. It's a couple mile hike to get to the room Mona baby is in. I swear the Pentagon is smaller. And, of course, you're there with a few thousand of your friends from the great unwashed masses. The place is just infested with tourists. I'm not kidding about the unwashed part. For some folks it's the only culture they have.
So after that lovely hour or so hike (no need to worry which way to go, everyone is going in the same direction) you end up in the room which houses La Gioconda. It's roughly the size of a basketball arena. There are pictures on the three walls that don't hold Mona, but no one looks at them.
So you're at the door to the room and your heart sinks. At least mine did. Everyone is there for one purpose and one purpose only, to see this effing picture. So there are several hundred of your closest friends, elbows out, trying to muscle their way in. Well if they weren't close friends before, they're about to be.
So say you gin up your determination. Get your fierce on. And wade into the seething mass of humanity (oh the humanity). Let's say you get close. And then the realization sets it. You can't actually see it. First off it's about two feet by two and half. And you're not allowed that close anyway. The effing thing is worth something like eight hundred million dollars. And of course the security around it is intense. And besides, it's a picture of a rich lady with a shit eating grin. So effing what.
They the realization sets in. You've just spent hours hiking with thousands of tourists to see a lady with a grin on her putz. For what exactly?
Trust me you don't want to. Besides, the ancient Egyptian artifacts that Napoleon looted are much more interesting.
First off is the horror show that is international travel. A groping comes free with admission. And it turns out there is a reason that the baggage claim is a few miles away (hint: they don't have to work so hard unloading the plane).
Second, the painting is in the Louvre, an ex-royal palace. It's effing huge. It's a couple mile hike to get to the room Mona baby is in. I swear the Pentagon is smaller. And, of course, you're there with a few thousand of your friends from the great unwashed masses. The place is just infested with tourists. I'm not kidding about the unwashed part. For some folks it's the only culture they have.
So after that lovely hour or so hike (no need to worry which way to go, everyone is going in the same direction) you end up in the room which houses La Gioconda. It's roughly the size of a basketball arena. There are pictures on the three walls that don't hold Mona, but no one looks at them.
So you're at the door to the room and your heart sinks. At least mine did. Everyone is there for one purpose and one purpose only, to see this effing picture. So there are several hundred of your closest friends, elbows out, trying to muscle their way in. Well if they weren't close friends before, they're about to be.
So say you gin up your determination. Get your fierce on. And wade into the seething mass of humanity (oh the humanity). Let's say you get close. And then the realization sets it. You can't actually see it. First off it's about two feet by two and half. And you're not allowed that close anyway. The effing thing is worth something like eight hundred million dollars. And of course the security around it is intense. And besides, it's a picture of a rich lady with a shit eating grin. So effing what.
They the realization sets in. You've just spent hours hiking with thousands of tourists to see a lady with a grin on her putz. For what exactly?
Trust me you don't want to. Besides, the ancient Egyptian artifacts that Napoleon looted are much more interesting.
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