WHEN SHE SMILES, IS THERE DIMPLES?

FOUR DAYS OF ABJECT POVERTY! Having spent all my well earned dosh on Christmas prezzies, my Coffers were distinctly diminished. I had placed all hope on a deposited cheque, Thursday last week - it only cleared this morning - a complete FRIGGING WEEK! Consequently I had NOODLES for Christmas lunch, not even a beer! Okay so I had had a sumptuous Christmas dinner on the Eve, as is Brazilian's want.

WHAT IS IT BRAZILIANS LOVE ABOUT LOUD BANGS? Where's the fun in hearing a loud banging noise? A lot of fun apparently, judging from Christmas Eve and Day. Don't get me wrong, I like fireworks as much as yer next man, when it's at night and a wonderful display of lights and exploding stars and whirly things. But just a loud bang, during the day, and throughout the day and NIGHT, actually it's no fun at all, it is, in fact, VERY FUCKING ANNOYING!! It goes on during the year too as the neighbourhood drug pushers send up rockets for varying reasons from "Here come the fucking pigs, run for it!" to "Got a new batch of Havana Gold in, get it fresh!".

A SMALL PIGEON, powerless to fly for some reason, had alighted on my terrace and stayed for a few days, I had thought of capturing it and eating it for Christmas lunch, but Good Will to all Men and Creatures and all that...Instead I put out a small dish of water and grains of rice, do small pigeons eat rice? Anyway, it's disappeared now, either learned to fly or some cat's got it. Maybe it was a message from some god or another - "Stop looking at Internet Porn!" Or maybe it was actually a gift from Heaven for me to eat for Christmas Lunch. Now there's a god somewhere is saying "Fuck you then you ungrateful bugger, I'll fly the thing to the nearest favela."

What's the smell of parsley?

HWYL FAWR and praise the Lord!
Make sure you fart well in the mornings.

Progress Report

NADOLIG LLAWEN
BLWYDDYN NEWYDD DDA!


"I say, the sun's well over the Yard Arm, Sarn' Major, how about a G & T"
"Right Away Sah!"

Actually, an ice cold FBA. I've been working all morning, the Fiesta is prepared, just need to shove it in't' oven.
STUFFING!
'no it's true I say!'
No, I mean stuffing, Christmas stuffing, I've been preparing that too. I'm a chop and plop, slice and dump chef. "one teaspoon of.." BOLLOOX! chop a whole bunch up and shove it in. Here's the recipe:

Dry bread, chop it up and shove it in a big bowl thingy.
A whole bunch of sage, fresh, - you must take it from the plant barefooted and only with your left hand, don't forget to thank the Earth Mother, AND the Green Man and the spirit of the plant itself.
Chop and plop it in.
Onions, chop and plop.
In fact just chop and plop this stuff:
nuts (any sort)
parsley
yucky bits from the inside of yer turkey (or Fiesta), cooked of course, you'll use this soup.
garlic (loads)
chives
salt and pepper, yes really!
just for fun I added a bit of curry powder.

pour in yer Fiesta soup, goo it all up in a big mess, then make cakes like the mud pies we used to make when we were kids, remember? Shove it in the oven for some time and Robert's yer Father's Brother!

Whose turn is it for the washing up?

JINGLE ALL THE WAY.

THE DAY is almost upon us - in fact the day IS upon us, for in Brazil Christmas is celebrated on Christmas Eve, mid-night dinner, opening pressies etc. Once again I've been charged with the task of preparing the Turkey. In fact it's not a turkey, it's a 'Fiesta', whoever heard of a bird called a Fiesta??! What'smore, according to the bumf, the thing is 'brought to us from the highlands of Scotland'. So the Jocks have Fiesta farms? Can anyone enlighten me?

STILL ON THE SAME festive theme, went through HELL the past couple of days. I'm talking about Shopping Centres. SCs I abhor at any normal time, SCs at Chrismas are something akin to Torquemada's methods from the Inquisition. The only alternative is to brave the smelly thronging masses in the city centre. In fact the SCs are the same, except with air conditioning. In children's toy shops, I can't understand why a few pieces of plastic cost R$80, it's ludicrous. (OOps am I starting to lament about the cost of living again - YES!) okay, stop.

MORE LATER, it's time for me to prepare the Fiesta. A few FBAs and I'll be jingling all the way.

The Sun Has Got His Fuggin' Hat On

A COUPLE OF MATES just phoned my mobile from England! Aparently there's a cheapy scheme where you can phone for about 1p for 10 minutes. Anyway they are there quaffing Abbot's and London's Pride in the Old Vic it's 4c outside and probably icy; and I'm here quaffing ice cold FBAs (Polar) and it's 35c outside, can't go out, I'll roast. Guess where I'd rather be?

CONTRARY TO POPULAR belief (more freeking clichés??!) "BRAHMA" is not the god of beer. I hear it's hitting Britain in a big way "...effortless flair" (one expat here was quoted as saying "more like 'effortless flatulence'". ) And in Brazil Brahma sucks; here's an urban myth proven true: during the summer here there's a real neccessity to produce huge quantities of beer in a short time, in order to speed up the fermentation process Brahma uses other 'non malted cerials', that's marketing speak- it's cabbage! Yup they ferment cabbage in the brewing process. Hence effortless flatulence.

FOUND MY DAD'S house on Google Earth, and I'm sure that's my old man in the back garden doing a barbie.

JUST READ on the BBC site, there a bunch of rogue "Bad Santas" running amok in New Zealand, protesting against the commercialization of Christmas, go for it! Spend less money this Christmas! Actually, I have to spend less money 'coz I ain't got the frigging money to spend anyway, probably these Bad Santas don't either and they're using it as an excuse to get free beer and food.

RIGHT NOW at the mo, there's some kind of street party going on outside and their playing fucking awful 'funk' music at high volume, I'm trying to drown it out with Welsh Bagpipe music at a few thousand decibels. My neighbours love me.

HIP HIP HIP HOORAY!

HWYL FAWR!

CHRISTMAS AT 35c (that's frickin' hot)

PHEW! It's taken me almost a complete month to recover from that last whinge, but really! One struggles to keep in cold beers.
What's been going on?

I GOT a call from a guy wanting a translation - now normally I get lots of translation work that deals with technical stuff, I've done facial surgery, water and sewage treatment, Bion's concept of "truth", literacy teaching, lots of aeroplaney things - but this was (sounds of trumpets blaring) - FICTION! What's more - SCIENCE FICTION! Check this title out: Alpha-Orionis: A Journey to the Centre of the Galaxy. Man, pure cliché; if there are any English Literature teachers out there who want to give their students a fine example of what 'cliché' is, check this out.
Well you can't check it out anyways because after the first two chapters I'd translated, the guy gave up, I think he realized it was crap in English. It may have sounded fine to him (he wrote it after all) in Portuguese, but in English.... Pulp Fiction (isn't that a cliché?)

INVASION of teenage mutant cupim: cupim, is Portuguese for - TERMITES! Not those sort that David Attenborough talks about as he climbs through their giant mounds somewhere in the wilds of Africa far from any metropolis; no siree, these buggers fly and they're right here in the big city and they eat wood and books, and the fuckers are in my flat eating my wood and books. They look like long ants and the first indication that you got cupim invasion is hundreds of tiny gossamer wings on the floor, they shed 'em before they start crawling into yer wood and books. Next indication is sawdust. They start flying in between 8pm - 9pm, then they change shift with the mosquitos.

PAST COUPLE of weeks I've been teaching a guy whose going to the States on Saturday; complete beginner, wants to know 'survival English', so I gave him a few basic phrases: "I would like..."; "Can I have...."; "How much is...?"
Then you can add:
a room
a beer
a woman
a Big Mac

IN MY ROLE as Welsh consulate and Cultural Attaché, I felt it my duty to divulge and teach the fine gentleman's sport of Rugby. To tell the truth rugby arrived in Porto Alegre a few years ago via Australian exchange students; and thus the PoA Rugby Club was formed, called Charrua (pronounced SHA-HOO-AH) ; when they heard about me (being Welsh and the year was that we won the 6 Nations) they begged me to be the coach! Really! Jeezus, I haven't played rugby since I wuz in comp. in 1978. So I just opted to be Official Team Beer Drinker. Actually Brazilian rugby is terrible but it's wonderful to watch because it appears that they do everything by the rule book; it seems that they read about scrums, rucks, passes, line-outs etc. and do it exactly how it's described in the book; it's classic rugby.

ON A PERSONAL NOTE (that got yer attention din' it?) Angie's thigh's are swelling up like something incredibly swelly. What the figgin's is going on? We're asking: too much beer and barbies? No dudes, apparently it's those blasted hormones - injectable anticonceptionals! I give her a jab in the bum once a month (now, gentlemen please! this is a medical term!), to stop the babies (better than those dam rubber thingies), and her thighs start to balloon, "water retention" apparently; I have a student who is an obstetrician / gynecologist, who told me this. This same student gets me the jabs for free, only I have to do the job, I'm now a trained hyperdermic needleist! A change of substance and the thighs shrink, the gyne doc says we just have to wait for 3 months to see. Meanwhile Angie's starting to mention that I should get the snip, "too much messing around with my hormones" , she says. Argh! Anyone got any advice for me?

IS IT Christmas already? I'd better get to the shopping centre. HO HO friggin' HO.

HWYL FAWR!

BRAZIL CHUPS

What kind of a country is this? It's all a fucking joke. Angie went for another job...
Single mum, two kids. How much do you need to rent a small flat and survive? I guess around R$1300, minimum. Okay the job was for sales person in a small "esoteric" store in a shopping centre. 4pm - 10pm, 6 days a week, if you work on Sunday, you get Monday off. 36 hours a week. Pay per month - R$400!!! FUCK OFF!!! Come on what the FUCK'S GOING ON??!! This makes me fucking laugh, it's a huge fucking joke. Brazil is a beautiful place to live...BUT!!!
By the way the previous job she went for was similar - administrative assistant in a publishing company... 8 hours a day, 5 days a week....R$500 per month.
On top of getting almost no money, you have to pay for everything because nothing works..
you have to pay for private (if you want good) education for your kids because the education system's CRAP!
You have to pay for health because the public health system's CRAP!
In some places you have to pay for private security patrol because the policing is CRAP!
Taxes? don't talk to me about taxes!
CRAP CRAP CRAP!!
Apart from that it's not to bad living here.
(that should rattle a few cages....Victor?)

Too Much Beer, Not Enough Money

They've got to be frigging joking. Went to PoA's annual Book Fair finally, the best thing (or NOT as the case turns out) about the book fair is sitting in the beer tent drinking beer and being an intellectual after a few cans of FBA. How can you be an intellectual at R$3 A FUCKING CAN!!! That's "Opinião" gente, but it's not my frigging opinion. "Opinião", for those who are not Porto Alegrenses, is a night club/show venue that has the monopoly on selling beer in the beer tent/food hall tent at the book fair. Now if they want to charge 3 REALS at their fucking night club okay, that's their business, rob the clients blind, who wants to be robbed blind will go there and dance their arses off untill 5am. BUT (a HUGE FUCKING ROUND BUT - see previous post there's two of 'em) to come to the book fair a "popular anual event for all walks of life, etc, etc, bulllshit, bullshit, bullshit") and still charge 3 REALS for a can, well they can FUCK OFF! and PoA Prefeitura can also FUCK OFF, shove yer friggin' book fair UP YER ARSE! And if anyone comes to PoA, guys DO NOT GO TO "Opinião" they are, as one might say ROBBING FUCKING BASTARDS!
Seems like PoA's getting worse not better, which was my opinião a few years ago.
I'm getting the fuck outta here.

Too Many Books, Not Enough Beer

Whoa! Too many bums on this page. It's a bum page.
The PoA bianal, I don't know how the fuck it is in English, it happens once every two years anyway - bi annual? But isn't that twice a year? Whatever - it's still on. AND the famous book fair, the city centre's getting quite crowded. Haven't been to the book fair yet but I - WE - have to go. Problem is, it closes up at 9pm, that's totally crap, if I'm working until 7.30 for example, I can pop down there, then by the time I do a quick round of the fair, the bar will already be closing. No idea of planning for fun the PoA city council!
Now this is true - last Friday night's barbie was ruined by PoA's version of Hurricane Katarina, it came right at the end though, so we had to dive for cover and I managed to rescue the last of the meat. Next day we saw that there were serious floods in several areas.
Tomorrow's barbie forecast - not sure, I don't read frikkin newspaper and I don't have a TV.
I am now the Welsh community in PoA after Kim, from Port Talbot, left a couple of months ago to the Land of My Fathers, and hers I suppose. I've declared myself the Welsh Cultural Attaché to PoA. Just gotto let the Welsh assembly know about this so I can start earning my 3,000 GBP per month, lot of events I have to attend you see.

PORTO ALEGRE BI-ANAL

Now THAT'S art.

Arshole in Charge of a Country

I'm trying to post pictures but it keeps failing.
The president of Iran's a fuckwit. He wants to "wipe Israel off the map", this guy is a president??

Millionaire's Lament

FLASH BOOK REVIEW!
Code to Zero: Ken Follet.
I'm usually a Follet fan, but this one is a bit weak, too fast, too Hollywoody and too predictable.
I'm in that most embarrassing of situations again: no money. Fuck, I mean really no money, okay, I have 50 reals, that's to last me until Monday but there's things to pay for - petrol, barbecue, beers, food for the kids!
I'm fucked.

Art in the Disguise of Porn or Is It the Other Way Around?

Here's a picture of a huge cock being taken to the PoA Bienal.

I wonder if the woman in the window about 300 yards to my right can see me sitting naked at my computer. It's too hot to wear frikking clothes. After Sundays near miss with Wilma, she hit with a vengence last night, gusty and wet like a 50 year old prostitute (wot??).
Victor left a message down below somewhere. Come in Victor All is Forgiven! Let me tell you people about Victor, you call him several times for a barbie and he never comes or, really worse, says he's going to come THEN never comes. The last time - the begging for forgiveness bit in his message - he said he was on his way then hours later he was drunk in a bar somewhere in Cidade Baixa. What 12 beers? Come on Victor, lets do a barbie sometime and you can bring the twelve beers, and please turn up this time!
And how about the book fair? I'm hoping to get there to do some loud recitals of Prometheus Bound again in the beer tent, or perhaps some Shakespeare this year. If we drink enough Guinness (which could prove to be very expensive) we could try Ulysses or even Finnegans Wake.
Talking of ART, went to the Bienal today, ART FART. Mostly blackened rooms with weird sounds and projected images, does this mean something? One exhibit was a ceiling high (and the ceiling was high in the warehouse) stack of what appeared to be vegetable sacks, on closer inspection there was a tiny tv screen sunk into the stack on one side with the still image of a pussy. Yes a female genetalia pussy. An obviously phallic stack and the tiny image, perhaps the artist is trying to tell us something about male power or some crap. In fact it didn't occur to me to find out if the artist was male or female.
Another exhibit was a line of pictures showing a penis in an alternating image that changed like venetian blinds folding opening and closing. First the cock tucked between the legs of a hairy man then an erect full frontal. What would Freud tell us about all this then?
There was a video of five naked women blowing red powder around, that was fun.

IF Someone Shoots You in the Forest, Does it Make a Noise?

Today I can go out and legally buy a gun! If I had the money that is.
Brazil's referendum resulted in a majority of no to the prohibition of selling firearms. There were complicated arguments for and against.
As Wilma lashes the Florida coast we're feeling the effects here in PoA; at my barbecue yesterday the newspaper which I use to cover a metal table lifted slightly and shifted on the table top. A few minutes later a paper napking was blown to the floor, I thought about cancelling the barbecue, taking shelter and boarding up the windows but after several minutes of close observation of the neighbours washing line made me I decided to risk possible injury from falling paper and go ahead with my weekly orgy of consuming large quantities of roasted meat and cold beer.

Beer makes you Happy.

BOOK REVIEW!
"Fools Die" Mario Puzo.
Read it.
I'm on my fourth FBA (Fine Brazilian Ale remember) and feeling quite happy. Or is it just the feeling brought on by the mild drugging effect? Because, when I think about it... uhm let me think for a couple of minutes.

Yup when I think about it, I'm not really happy, right now, or in my life. BUT when I think about it again...I think I AM really happy. Am I or amn't I? Only I know the answer to that question, but I'll have to look deep inside to find the answer. Perhaps another beer will help.

More Tea Vicar?

Chimarrão is a green herbal tea that the Gaúchos love, the plant is Ilex paraguariensis, I don't know the common name in English, here it's Erva Mate, the Spanish speaking countries know it as Yerba Mate I think. It's drunk from a small gourd through a metal straw and it's shared around a group, family or friends and continually topped up with hot water from a vacuum flask. In this way everyone gets to share their herpes! Yerpes Mate!
Anyway here I am sharing one right now with Angel. It's the Gaúcho equivalent of a nice cup of tea only they take it everywhere with them, to parks, at work. Where ever there's a Gaúcho, the ubiquitous cuia (that's the gourd) will be with him.
No thanks I farted, pass the fucking buns.

Rock for Teens

TEENAGERS! Pay attention: Check out the "Ananda is a Rocker" link that I've put there on the right somewhere. Ananda is Angie's daughter, there's lots of stuff about those weird new rock bands like Avril Lasagna and Pinkin' Lark or something like that. Anyway take a look. It's in Portuguese.

It rained on my barbecue last night! I had to scurry over to the barbie pit with an umbrella then scrurry back to the shelter. It's a bit cooler today. Had to cancell my class this morning due to ... er....well put it this way, if I had gone to class, I would have had to spend most of the time in the bathroom. Feeling better now though and it's almost time for the first beer of the day!

It's Friday! It's five o'clock! And it's Crackerjack!
Actually it's Saturday, it's nine thirty in the morning and it's my cool batch pad.

Y Ddraig Goch a Y Ddraig Cannaid

During the 60s the English government and more specifically the Liverpool council constructed a dam and flooded a valley in Wales, obliterating a Welsh speaking only community, the village of Capel Celyn. All the Welsh politicians were against the project which was to supply water to the English city of Liverpool.
The residents of Capel Celyn were evicted from their homes and the village destroyed by dynamite. At the opening ceremony local crowds attacked the dignitaries collapsing tents and trapping them inside, that would've been great fun to see and take part in! During the construction of the dam and the hydro-electric plant Welsh "freedom fighters" used explosives to sabotage the proceedings. The English used explosives to destroy the homes. Who are the terrorists here?

"...gradually the Welsh people realised that when it came to a conflict with their bigger English neigbour, they had no control over their destiny." (BBC news).

Actually they had realised that in the 13th Century
Anyway, after 40 years the Liverpool city council have offered an apology to the community. Sorry we destroyed you livelihoods people, we just wanted some cheap water.

PoA today is Bright and Sunny and not too hot!

A Pleasant Evening on the Terrace Vicar

Y Ddraig Goch reporting from the heart of Southern Brazil, well not really the heart - more the small white fluffy bit just below the belly button. GAÚCHO Land! Cowboys and accordion music. Porto Alegre's a fairly decent city, could be much better though, it has a lot of tourist potential with a very wide river (really an estuary) and wonderful sunset views. The local government don't seem to want to bother their arse over attracting tourists though - there are Shopping Centres mind you. I think PoA could be known as the City of Shopping Centres, hundreds of the fucking things. Hate 'em meself.
And from my living room and terrace I have a wonderful view, the terrace is great for al fresco sex and barbies, though not at the same time could be a bit dodgy. The sex should come before the barbie I guess. I've often thought of inviting my gf onto the terrace for a shagging I'm not sure how the neighbours above would react, I'd probably be evicted on the spot. Tell the truth, I don't have the courage, maybe at night though.
Watch this space!
HWYL FAWR!

Those Little Hearts

Yes we eat chicken hearts in Brazil. What do they do with all the chicken hearts in Britain? Does anyone eat chicken hearts in any other part of the world?
There's an 'Inter' football game tonight which means the road to my class will be jammed and on the way home there'll be hundreds of drunken fans disappointed or elated but drunken anyway.

After a Long Absence

Dear readers! Y Ddraig Goch news from the deep south of Brazil is BACK. Don't go away.
If you've been following events in my life, I'm still in a flat in Cristal, still doing barbies most weekends and most importantly STILL with the Little Angel, sometimes she pisses me off with weird moods but all women do that don't they?
Barbecues
For my foriegn followers, if I have any left that is after an absence of seven months or so...
A Brazilian barbie is like this - don't read this if you are vegetarian!
Huge Slabs Of Dripping Red Meat must first be purchased from the soopie-doopie (supermarket kiddies!) or açougue - the butcher. I prefer the supermarket because at the butcher's you have to ask for the right cut and look at it and try to sound as if you know what you're talking about when you say 'hmm that's a nice piece but I wonder if you take a shave of the bottom', most Gaúchos DO know what they are talking about - I don't (I'm not Gaúcho, I'm a bachgen from Cymru), so I just go to the soopie-doopie and get ready packed meat.
Shopping list: Meat (which usually includes sausages and chicken hearts)
Bread (for the garlic bread)
Charcoal.
Beer (most important!)
oh and maybe pop for the kids. (cries of "what no salad?!)
Having purchased your HSODRM (Huge Slabs Of etc.) you must now spit it. The spits are a good yard long, depending on the size and shape of your HSODRM you'll need a double (two pronged) or single spit. A light coating of rock salt then on yer fire it goes.
Ooops forgot to mention the fire preperation.
The barbie pits here are like brick raised stand-alone (I mean they're outside on a terrace or garden wall) fire places with a short chimney. Here's the traditional Gaúcho way of preparing the fire (the alternative non-Gaúcho way is emptying the charcoal into the pit, pouring on half-litre of alchohol, light match and WOOOF!). Take a standard 600ml beer bottle and a tabloid newspaper, make sure that the newspaper has already been read by all the members of the family, neighbours etc. Make sure the beer has been drunk from the bottle. Take a double page of the paper (one sheet) and diagonally screw it up at the same time forming a ring, so you'll get a screwed up paper ring! Place this tightly over the beer bottle (if it's loose make a smaller ring). Repeat several times until the bottle complete with screwed up paper rings. Place the bottle with the SUPRs into the barbie pit and pour charcoal over the top. Make sure the bottle doesn't topple. When you've emptied the bag carefullyextract the bottle from the rings and you have a kind of short paper tube going into the charcoal, the Gaúchos call this the 'volcano', light another piece of paper and pop it into the volcano and wait. Soon it'll be roaring.
Next - drink lots of cold beer and serve the meat to your happy mates.

Felicidade again

There have been some very interesting developments.
I feel like a teenager again, only when I was a teenager I didn't have a car, snogging in a car was one of the pleasures I hadn't experienced. Until two nights ago. Snogging on a motorcycle was quite pleasurable but not quite the same thing I guess. In fact, snogging anywhere is quite pleasurable.
Drinking cold FBAs from the bottle neck parked in a side street.
What a fine word, "snogging", a little crass maybe but it describes the activity better than the American "necking", we were certainly using our necks and also much more, maybe "facing" would be a better alternative. "Sucking face" is also a noble expression.
Whatever the expression, we were at it. Not much more, I hasten to add, I still have to take it easy.
A little sexual frustration is the sweetest kind of torture.
People are wondering why I'm going around with a permanent silly grin on my face.
One day I'll get photos and other snazzy stuff on this blog then the whole world will be able to admire and wonder over my remarkable phizzog.
This written during "Basics of Informatics" class at PUC, I'm learning how to navigate on internet! Next week we do microsoft word.

HWYL FAWR.

Is it the loneliness of night that makes you reach out and bite...

It's getting tough...over a month with no female company. Dude that's brutality.
I have a lady friend that's possible company for a night, but...
So now I'm back at PUC and it's high summer and delicious girls all around, this is torture.
But she is there, the girl, she knows it, I need patience, delicacy, don't push things too far or too soon. She's got two kids, she's cautious, wary of a relationship.
Just sold the '98 Fiat Palio, split the money with the ex and bought a Fiat Uno '90, great car (NOT!), well it works and I like it, makes a lot of weird noises, shimmies a lot, crunches around the gears, doesn't have a reliable fuel gauge (I keep thinking I've got no petrol, it's unnerving) but it allows me to give a lift to Little Angel after classes (a soppy name I know, but that really is her name, in another language).
Must go.

Nonsense, I like all manefestaions of the Terpsecharian muse

Who are you that keeps reading my blog from UK? Feel free to leave a message, say what you like.
Another relationship over. It just had to end really, I like classic English literature, she likes Spiderman. After seven months of exsquisite sex I'm alone again.
Carnaval time in Brazil, weird, the city is empty, everyone's at the beach. In my apartment block of 14 apts, only four of us stayed. Carnaval's the only time we see topless girls in Brazil. Que saudades de Chipre/Cyprus!
And once again my computer's out of commission, I'm on a host computer again, my ex-wife is kind enough to let me in the house with Francisco (my boy) while she's away at the beach, it's really so Fran can have access to the pool, tv, his toys...etc, I have none of those things in my cool batch pad (still have the terrace for naked sunbathing though girls, don't be put off!)
News from my brother (via email on my ex-wifes compu) Wales beat England in the 6 nations! Not getting any of that over here so I'm having to rely on second hand news. Let's see how far Wales can go this time.
The World Social Forum has just finnished here in PoA, what fun, it's just a huge excuse to smoke dope and wear the most rediculous clothes. Standing at the back of the "amphitheatre" watching the Gilberto Gil show we could actually HEAR EACH OTHER SPEAKING!! Crap sound, que saudades de Donnington Monsters of Rock.
Stupidest action of the whole weekend: 2am Monday, I was observing a lone, good-looking lady asking directions from several people, they directed her towards the Shopping Centre, so happened I was walking in that direction. When I reached the main road she comes up behind me and I boldly asked where she was looking for because I had seen here asking directions, the way was dark and there were very few people around. She replied "no where, why?" , " I saw you ask directions..." etc etc. And I said " Anyway the Shopping Centre's right there", "Are you going up that way? " She asks (with retrospect, hopefully or maybe even pleadingly)...."No, I'm getting a bus here..." I says ... AAARRRRGGGHHHH!! Five mins later sitting on the bus....." DUHHHH!" am I dumbo OR WHAT?!
Girls, call me, leave messages,
BYEEEE