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!