Last night, Dwight and I were at Cock O The Walk, having a few beers and talking (somewhat randomly) about the subways in Prague when (even more randomly), the topic of the Goatse picture came up. What is the Goatse picture, you may ask? Well, I did ask, having never heard of such a thing and my dear husband refused to tell me what it was, mentioning only that it was probably the most horrific thing I could think of.

Really.

As someone who spent her formative years glued to the Faces of Death series, Im capable of imagining some pretty horrific things. I spent the next 30 minutes trying to guess what the picture could be – brainstorming everything from beyond-deviant sexual acts, to dismemberment of various body parts, to scenarios involving both simultaneously. Then I remembered a news story from awhile back involving some German guy who placed a personal ad requesting someone to cut off a vital part of his male anatomy and feed it to him.

This had to be the Goatse picture it’s the German guy!

Dwight just smiled. Youre getting close, he said. But youre not there yet.

My morbid curiosity inflamed, I continued to beg him to just tell me what the picture was. Dwight insisted that I had to see it for myself, and that we would look it up when we got home. He did tell me that this one photo has spawned an Internet subculture people who actually go out and take pictures of images found in daily life that resemble the Goatse imagery (more on these people later). There is also a photo gallery where people post reaction shots of those looking at Goatse for the first time.

This only made me more intensely interested. I gulped down my beer, anxious to get home.

Once home, I ran into the study to fire up the computer. Dwight searched the Internet for the Goatse, while I fixed a snack in the kitchen. Once he found the much-anticipated picture, he bookmarked it and called me in. Sitting down at the computer, I took a deep breath. I was ready to be shocked and appalled. I decided I wanted Dwight to take my Reaction Shot when I saw it. He readied the camera and told me to open the link on the count of three.

One

Two

Three! With a click of the mouse, the infamous Goatse appeared on the screen before me. I wont describe it, but I will say that while pretty gross, Id imagined worse. I was actually more puzzled than anything, and spent the next several minutes trying to determine how this particular image couldve been achieved. I suspect some Photoshopping was involved. In my Goatse Reaction Shot, I wear a quizzical expression, my eyes squinting ever so slightly.

Not terribly dramatic.

Dwight had also bookmarked the link to Tubgirl, which Id seen several months earlier. With my ever-present fecalphobia, I found this picture infinitely more disturbing than the Goatse.

After pondering the bizarre intricacies of Goatse, and trying to determine its authenticity on Snopes.com (surprisingly, I found practically nothing), I wandered over to my other favorite online reference material, Wikipedia. Here I learned of the existence of shock sites websites devoted to the most gruesome, sick and twisted images conceivable. Unable to stop myself, I searched out one or two of these sites, and finally found some photos on par with what I had imagined in my head.

Are shock sites the new Faces of Death? Furthermore, since Faces of Death was determined to be largely (if not entirely) fake, are these shock site photos also fakes? Im always skeptical, and inclined to believe that these pictures are simply the creative output of disturbed, Photoshop-savvy people.

They cant be real, right?

With that being said, I must admit I love this game of searching out Goatseian imagery in everyday life. Theres a photo of a sign found on the Prague subway containing the imagery (the photo that spawned our whole Goatse conversation in the first place). Another picture, supposedly of God parting the clouds, resembles it. Theres even a Time magazine cover that is Goatse-esque. For some reason, I find this aspect of the Goatse lore hilariously clever.

Im not going to post the links to Goatse, Tubgirl or any of the other shock sites, but if youre so inclined, you can find these photos online without too much trouble. Wikipedia is a good place to start. Keep in mind that obviously, none of this could possibly be considered work-safe.

Now, after seven hours of nightmare-plagued sleep, Im pondering a return to therapy. Could my sick curiosity be a manifestation of latent Jeffrey Dahmer-like tendencies?

Smoking, and the impending Oklahoma smoke ban, have been on my mind a lot recently. A recent comment got me thinking even more, and compelled me to share just a few random thoughts on the subject:

I guess my philosophy on smoking is this to a lot of people, myself included, smoking and drinking go hand in hand. I’m one of those people who don’t smoke during the week, but like to have a few cigarettes when I’m out drinking at a bar. A Social Smoker, if you will. Yes, I know fully well how unhealthy it is (Im not stupid) but I enjoy it nonetheless. The same way I enjoy speeding, eating a greasy burger now and then, and occasionally drinking a little more than I should. I realize that the actions I just mentioned dont affect innocent bystanders like smoking may (well, except maybe for speeding), so I can understand certain restrictions.

It just seems like there must be some middle ground, some way to make both the smokers and the non-smokers happy. Ill be honest sometimes I feel like there are people out there who wont be happy until smokers are relegated to a damp, dark corner of their basement, fervently looking around to make sure there is no one with a two-block radius who may be offended by their smoke.

I’ll concede that heavy smoke during a meal can be an annoyance, so I’m okay with restaurants going non-smoking. I’m definitely okay with separate smoking and non-smoking sections. Im even okay with bars having the choice to be smoke-free.

It just seems that to ban smoking in all bars (that serve food) is unfair. If someone hates smoke, can’t they avoid going to a bar, or go instead to a smoke-free bar? I know of several bars in the metro that are already smoke-free. Couldnt there be some bars for smokers and some for non-smokers? I just want someplace where I can go and have a cigarette with my drink, and maybe even one after dinner.

I want the choice.

One consequence of this smoke ban that seems to be overlooked is this once everyplace goes smoke-free next week, the smokers are just going to go outside the establishment to smoke. Non-smokers will still have to run the Smoke Gauntlet to get inside, whether its directly outside the building or 25 feet away in the parking lot. People are always going to smoke, whether others like it or not.

I just hope that most bars, if they’re going to go smoke-free, at least try to make some accommodations for smokers.

A possible solution: The bars in Lawrence, KS are smoke-free, but most of them have very nice, covered, space-heated patios out in back for the smokers. That’s not a bad idea.

I dont think I should be allowed to smoke freely anywhere I choose; I only hope that someone takes the time and thought to make provisions for those who are still going to smoke, and who still have money to spend at local bars and restaurants. Like I said before, there has to be some compromise, some kind of middle ground that could be reached on this subject. I dont want to be that sad, paranoid little person crouching in a dark basement, shamefully hiding my nicotine habit like a strung-out junkie. I know I cant be the only one who feels this way.

With the 2006 Winter Olympics drawing to a close…

What is your favorite Winter Olympic sport?

We arrived in Prague Wednesday afternoon and took the subway to our hotel. Prague was no less beautiful and charming than Vienna, but in a slightly shabbier way. It seemed to have more personality, and the pubs in Prague were incredible. Definitely my favorite city.

About 80 cents will buy you a half-liter of awesome Czech beer, and the food was pretty great, too. I sampled some of the best cheese while in Prague fried Edam, fried Brie, spicy Camembert, I could go on and on. Lots of really great, hearty, rye bread, too. I think I subsisted solely on bread and cheese and beer for roughly 90% of the trip and loved every minute of it.

One tip I have to pass on next time you eat fried cheese, ask for tartar sauce rather than marinara. It sounds a little weird, but it is good. Try it. Ill never have marinara again. Im also going to perfect the art of making homemade fried Edam and Brie, since I doubt Ill find it in any local establishments. Good stuff, good stuff.

Thursday, we wandered around Prague. It was cold and rainy, and Id developed a full-blown cough, but the day was no less incredible. Whats a nagging cough, and the inability to get warm, when youre in freaking Prague? Joking about how it was like walking through INXSs Never Tear Us Apart video (shot in Prague on a similarly dreary day), we saw the astronomical clock (very cool with its 600-year old mechanisms) and wandered across the medieval-era Charles Bridge. We took a tram up to Prague Castle and spent the afternoon poking around there. It was a surreal experience everything seemed kind of fake, almost like we were at Disneyworld. I had to keep reminding myself that this was a real castle, and that everything we were seeing had actually had been here for hundreds and hundreds of years and was not constructed to promote a giant rodent. We also got to see the more modern “Dancing House,” supposedly inspired by Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. I love Frank Gehrys work, and it was cool to see one of his buildings.

Thursday night was a good, old-fashioned Pub Crawl Prague-style. Good times were had by all, and I continued to drink my Pilsner Urquell and smoke my Petras, despite the fact that I still couldnt seem to get warm. Prague is a total party city. There were probably more bars and pubs within just one square mile of our hotel, than there are in the entire town of Norman. I’m not kidding.

Europe (Vienna and Prague, at least) is also wonderfully smoker-friendly. Smoking was allowed pretty much everywhere, except on subways and trams. You probably cant smoke at the opera, either. Only one restaurant we visited even had a non-smoking section. No one gives you dirty looks or coughs exaggeratedly when you light up no one that is, except an older American couple seated next to us at one restaurant, who felt compelled to move seats once they realized we were smoking. Unfortunately for them, pretty much everyone else in the room was smoking, too. In America, you can be the Smoking Police and scout out your non-smoking sections with religious fervor. But in Europe, you should do as the Europeans do, and deal with it. Or have a cigarette yourself. It might calm you down.

Friday, we took the train to the outskirts of Kutna Hora, a medieval silver-mining town located an hour or so from Prague. We walked a mile or so to the Bone Church, which was one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. Beautiful in a ghastly way, the Bone Church is a medieval chapel entirely decorated with human bones. There is a family coat of arms, constructed from bones, and a chandelier containing every bone in the human body. This chapel was one of my main reasons for wanting to come to Prague.

We then decided to walk into the town of Kutna Hora, where we spent the rest of the day completely lost and confused, trying to figure out the bus schedule. Somewhere around this time, I developed a fever, but forced myself to push through. After all, how often do you get to hang out in Europe? I still couldnt get warm, though and wore my coat, hat, scarf and gloves the entire train ride back to Prague.

Upon our return, we set out to eliminate the final item on our Europe To-Do List absinthe. The absinthe ritual (Czech version, as opposed to the traditional drip method) is very interesting you put some sugar in the spoon, dip it into the absinthe, and then light the whole thing on fire until the sugar caramelizes. Very dramatic, and appealing to those of us with latent pyromaniacal tendencies. Then you mix the sugar into the absinthe and drink it. It was potently alcoholic, with the taste of licorice and the burn of gasoline. While I didn’t hallucinate and see the proverbial Green Fairy, the absinthe did seem to temporarily help my cough.

Saturday, we returned home. I had a full-blown case of the flu at this point, and was most certainly not looking forward to a long, overseas flight. Utterly miserable, I wanted nothing more than a hot bath and my own bed. Visions of my sorry, sick self being quarantined and barred from entering the States ran through my feverish mind, as I desperately tried to fake good health. The return trip passed without incident, and soon enough I was in my own bed where I slept for most of the next two days. Now Ive recovered, but Dwight has taken ill with the same thing. So much for those flu shots we got a few months ago.

Even despite falling victim to the Human Flu (not to be confused with the more-exotic Bird variety), our trip to Europe was everything we hoped it would be and much, much more. Im dealing with the expected Post-Vacation Depression, but I now have memories to last a lifetime or at least until we rack up more memories on our next trip. Dwight and I are already planning Europe, The Sequel. We definitely want to return to Prague, that much is certain. But where else will we go will it be Berlin? Amsterdam? Budapest? Moscow? I cant wait to find out. I was born to travel.

Due to excessive length, this post has been split into two parts.

Its over.

Our much-anticipated trip to Europe came and went too far too quickly. It was, however, our Best Vacation Ever. We had an incredible time, although the language barrier posed a slightly larger problem than we anticipated. It was stressful at first (and Ill admit there was a moment or two when I was overwhelmed and near tears) but most people spoke enough English and we picked enough German and Czech along the way to get by. It was challenging but ultimately, very rewarding. We were both glad that we didn’t take the easy way out by joining up with some tour group (safety in numbers being an overrated concept), and instead chose to figure it out on our own. I think we had a much more interesting and real experience that way.

Everyone should try to visit a foreign country at least once in his or her lifetime. Its humbling to be the only one in the room speaking English. Its humbling to spend 30 minutes struggling to decipher a bus schedule, or figuring out how to purchase subway tickets. Its humbling to try and communicate with someone who doesnt speak your language. Its humbling to have to work to figure out the little things, and to not have everything come easily. You gain a different perspective, and I firmly believe that getting outside your comfort zone is the only way to grow as a person.

We arrived in Vienna, Austria on a chilly Sunday afternoon and checked into our hotel, which was much nicer than I expected. The bathroom was tiny, and the one-person shower resembled some kind of upright hyperbaric chamber, but the room was very clean and comfortable. We had a minibar stocked with reasonably-priced beverages, and a small television set on which we were able to catch continuous coverage of the Olympics as well as German-dubbed episodes of The Simpsons.

After settling in, we asked the desk clerk if there was somewhere nearby with good food and beer, and she recommended the Centimeter a little neighborhood pub around the corner. The food and beer were indeed quite good, although the slower service took some getting used to.

Much of Monday was spent simply wandering around the city. It snowed that day big, fat, soft snowflakes, the kind I spend every Oklahoma winter longing for, and am inevitably deprived of. Vienna is gorgeous very much a fairy-tale kind of city. We walked through a few parks, and around the grounds of the Vienna Imperial Palace. Monday night, we took in Beethoven’s Fidelio at the State Opera (my favorite composer, Gustav Mahler, was the house conductor there about 100 years ago). That was an unbelievable experience, and I found myself near tears on several occasions, overcome by the reality of where I was.

Afterwards, we went back to the Centimeter, where the waitress let us stay and hang out until 1:00am, even though they closed at midnight. She said she had to stay and clean up anyway, so it was no bother, and continued to bring us beer. We thought that was pretty cool it was nice not to be rushed out, like you sometimes are here. It was cozy, just us, the waitress and the Golden Retriever chilling out on the floor by the bar.

Europe is truly the Promised Land for dog lovers. There were dogs everywhere…on subways, busses, in pubs, stores, everywhere. I love that people were able to take their dog with them as if it were their child. My kind of place. Interestingly, we never saw one stray while we were there. Every dog was on a leash, with their owner. That was good to see.

Tuesday was Valentines Day. Ordinarily we dont celebrate this holiday, viewing it as nothing but crass commercialization and cheap sentiment, but this year we decided to make an exception. We were pretty sure that a V-Day in Vienna would trump anything anyone else was doing. But, true to form, we spent our Viennese Valentines Day in our own unique way trolling around cemeteries. We visited the graves of Mahler, Beethoven, Schubert, Brahms, Strauss and Schoenberg. Oddly, we were practically the only people at the cemeteries. (One of the perks of traveling in the off-season is that you don’t have to deal with irritating crowds of tourists. We had most places all to ourselves.) We also checked out the Freud Museum, which is located in the same place (Berggasse 19) where Sigmund Freud actually lived and saw patients.

Tuesday night, we ate dinner in an old monastery wine cellar, where we had incredible Weiner Schnitzel, sausage and a great bottle of Riesling. We also sampled Topfenstrudel (cheese strudel) and Sachertorte, which is a Viennese pastry (chocolate cake with an apricot filling, covered with a chocolate ganache). Definitely one of the best meals Ive ever consumed, and Ive consumed a lot of great meals. After dinner, we went back to Centimeter one last time. Golden Retriever was there again, and we were pleased.

Wednesday marked the halfway point of our trip. Hopping a train from Vienna to Prague (roughly a four-hour journey), we were able to see the famous Danube and quite a bit of the picturesque, snow-covered Czech countryside. A reality check came shortly after we crossed the border into the Czech Republic. There was a marked difference between the wealth and elegance of Vienna and the relative poverty of southern Czech towns like Brno and Breclav. Suddenly, there were fields of houses no larger than the size of our bedroom. The towns were grimy and industrial, with Communist-era architecture and graffiti covering every available surface. There was still much beauty in these small medieval towns, but it was a heartbreaking wake-up call.

It was around this time that my throat became ominously scratchy

Part II coming soon.