BRAZILIAN ELECTIONS ARE SUCH FUN

Why are we subjected to crap? Do we have to put up with it? The answer of course is YES, we put up with it or switch off the TV or get out of society and live in a cave in the Himalayas somewhere.

What am I talking about? Election time, actually the general elections, we're going to vote for a new President of Brazil, actually I'm not going to vote, not being a citizen with citizen's rights and all that (got a permanent visa though), on the 1st of Oct. the camaigning starts NOW however.

It means...8pm everynight, politicians bullshitting on TV. ON EVERY CHANNEL THE SAME CRAP (unless of course one is priveleged enough to have cable or satellite). Switch off.

It means... trucks going around laden with loud speakers and amplified sound blaring, and I mean BLARING! out a jazzy catchy tune about how beautiful our country will be, without crime, with low taxes, with jobs for everyone, with marvelous free education for our children, if you vote for Senator Presidential Candidate Joaquim Fartbumph da Silva. If we do a quick survey, could we say that anyone actually likes those loud speaker trucks? I think on a popularity scale they would get a big ZERO, can you imagine anyone answering that question with; "Oh yes, I quite like that truck passing in front of my house twice a day, it's a nice tune, I think I'll buy the CD" NOT!! Then why the FUCK are they allowed???

It means... thousands upon thousands of plastic posters and banners showing the face of Senator Presidential Candidate Joaquim Fartbumph da Silva with his huge plastic smile littering the streets. Again...quick survey...you know the question...SO WHY THE FUCK IS IT ALLOWED, AGAIN???

It means...crowds of people waving huge coloured flags at every crossroads and cars beeping in support as they drive through. Get a life PLEASE!

That's it.

THIS HAS BEEN one of those bizarre Winters that hasn't really been a Winter. Way down in the South of Brazil, situated as we are, we're supposed to get some form of cold weather that should in theory start about June and go right on through Septemberish. Not so. Okay, so there were a couple of days cold enough to justify the use of my very-expensive-to-run electric oil filled radiator. I have to get up 15 mins before getting-up time in order to switch the radiator on in the bathroom. Damn thing takes that long to warm up the tiny room. Those days were few. Now in the middle of August and I've put it away in the spare room and I'm doing barbies every weekend again. Again no, I haven't really stopped doing barbies every weekend.

BARDO WAS HERE Saturday, I called him up at 1pm, well into lunch time, and told him I already had a couple of chunks of dead animal over the hot coals. I'd just put the phone on the hook when he was at the door. I had to go to the supermarket at around 5pm to top up on meat, beer and charcoal. Salad? What's that? We got through three slabs of beer anyway. I was half expecting to get The Nasty Bug (about 6 foot 6, 6 legs, multiprismed eyes and punches you in the face without provocation) that had gone through Angie's family from Monday to Friday, one each day. I did get a little squeezy in the early hours of Sunday morning but I put that down to the beer, Fine Brazilian Ale always makes me a little squeezy wheezy after twenty or so. Anyway Sunday I was fine, no Nasty Bug and I was back on the FBA by lunchtime.

MY DAD WOULD BE down The Ivor, now "Y Ddrainog" (NOT I must stress any relation to Y Ddraig Goch, different bicho) at midday on the dot every Sunday, I try to keep up the tradition from afar, at 12 it's "bar's open" PSHHHHT! He refuses to go there nowadays on account of "the pricks present", you'd have to understand a little Welsh in order to get that one.

HWYL FAWR!

Bollocks

THAT'S IT OVER for another 4 years then. The green and yellow that covered PoA over the past two months has completely disappeared overnight, no-one's speaking much about football these days.

NOTICE TO the PoA motorist!
Attention drivers of Porto Alegre! How to make the most of your motor vehicle and make driving a pleasure for yourself and other road users. Some advice and tips:

1. Please be aware that your motor vehicle is equipped with a small lever device, usually fixed around or near the steering wheel. On operating this lever (by a deft flicking up or down action with the hand)a small orange light on the front and rear of your motor vehicle, either the left or the right, will begin to flash intermittently.
And what is the purpose of this? You may ask.
Excellent observation, for this intermittent flashing light will actually ADVISE OTHER ROAD USERS OF YOUR MANOEUVERING INTENTIONS! Isn't that just incredible?! We are assuming here of course that you are aware that there ARE OTHER ROAD USERS.
It's a good idea then, when operating this INDICATOR (for that is what the device is called), to LOOK IN YOUR MIRROR, to see if there are any other road users approaching from behind before carrying out the manoeuver.
We are aware that some of you have already discovered this device, however we advise that it should be actioned AT LEAST 75 METRES BEFORE THE INTENDED MANOEUVER AND NOT AT THE MOMENT OF THE MANOEUVER ITSELF.
When observing this intermittent flashing light of a vehicle ahead of yours this means that the vehicle intends to MOVE INTO YOUR LANE or TURN LEFT OR RIGHT according to what side the flashing light is on. If you observe this then it is essential to GIVE THAT VEHICLE SPACE IN WHICH TO MANOEUVER and NOT ACCELERATE TO PASS THAT VEHICLE, which brings us to point,
2. You don't really HAVE TO pass that vehicle in front of you. No, really! He won't think bad of you if you stay behind. Despite what you may think, it is NOT WRITTEN IN THE LAW that you have to pass every vehicle in front of you. You may notice that in passing a vehicle, after perhaps a 100 metres or so, you will come across a RED TRAFFIC LIGHT (see next point), and that vehicle will soon be behind or alongside you. You are not Ayrton Senna.
3. A traffic light, when changing from orange to red actually, believe it or not, means YOU HAVE TO STOP, and NOT ACCELERATE TO PASS.

and finally:

The size of you vehicle does not determine your priority on a public road. That means - IF YOU GOT A BIG 'UN YOU'RE REALLY NO BETTER THAN THE REST OF US!
(John Holmes and Ron Jeremy, on their salaries, could argue that point)

HWYL FAWR.

4.30pm. TUESDAY 13th JUNE, I must have been the only person in Brazil not to have been sitting in front of a TV. I had left my class at 3.30 only to find the roads packed with everyone trying to rush home, green and yellow and honking horns everywhere. To avoid stress overload I parked up at Angie's until the traffic calmed down. She was busy with her final paper so in fact I wasn't the ONLY person not in front of a TV. At 4.15 I deemed it safe enough to venture out onto the roads, and indeed it was, a deserted city, the roads deserted of traffic that is, but life was there - passing a few bars, there was a seething green and yellow mass spilling out into the street. At home I settled in front of the computer to get some work done. A roar from around the city followed by swish bang bang bang over the next few minutes at around 4.45 indicated that Brazil scored. Can't wait for the next game.

ISN'T A DJ'S JOB just to stick a record on the deck and leave it there? Seems like they fool around with the record now, pressing buttons and twiddling knobs. And how come all Brazilian DJs are Scottish? MCJean Paul, MCFulano, etc.

WELL THAT'S YER LOT for today.

4.30pm. TUESDAY 13th JUNE, I must have been the only person in Brazil not to have been sitting in front of a TV. I had left my class at 3.30 only to find the roads packed with everyone trying to rush home, green and yellow and honking horns everywhere. To avoid stress overload I parked up at Angie's until the traffic calmed down. She was busy with her final paper so in fact I wasn't the ONLY person not in front of a TV. At 4.15 I deemed it safe enough to venture out onto the roads, and indeed it was, a deserted city, the roads deserted of traffic that is, but life was there - passing a few bars, there was a seething green and yellow mass spilling out into the street. At home I settled in front of the computer to get some work done. A roar from around the city followed by swish bang bang bang over the next few minutes at around 4.45 indicated that Brazil scored. Can't wait for the next game.

ISN'T A DJ'S JOB just to stick a record on the deck and leave it there? Seems like they fool around with the record now, pressing buttons and twiddling knobs. And how come all Brazilian DJs are Scottish? MCJean Paul, MCFulano, etc.

WELL THAT'S YER LOT for today.

Let them Eat Bolo

THE PEASANTS ARE REVOLTING in São Paulo.
They should take a shower now and again.

THE CITIZENS and DENIZENS of SP are in fear of their lives. Civil War! Cry the headlines. Things are pretty calm here in PoA so far, I'm just waiting to see if this general violence will spread to all the major cities as these things are want to do at times like these.

"Baldrick, does it have to be this way? Our valued friendship ending with me cutting you up into strips and telling the prince that you walked over a very sharp cattle grid in an extremely heavy hat?" (Blackadder to Baldrick "Duel and Duality")

Financial Poo

I'M IN FINANCIAL CRAP. Well what the hell, who isn't. MY fun started when I neglected to pay the minimum monthly payment on a credit card. Of course the next month it had almost tripled so I couldn't pay it! Next I went on the shit list, the Dirty Debters, a hundred years ago I would've gone to Fleet Street Prison for a couple of months.

SO I GOES to my bank and says, I want to get off this list by paying off the bill, a mere R$700, that's only about 170 quid guys! Uhm... I need just a little loan to pay off this bill to get me off the DD list. "Sorry, no can do, no loans I'm afraid...you're on the List".

I WENT TO CityBank who's advertising claims: "Doesn't even seem like a bank", by the advertizing I assumed they would be open, friendly, I assumed it would be a doddle to open an account. The nice young lady was open and friendly. After showing proof of my income... "Hmmm, Sorry you need to earn at least R$3,000 a month to open an account here." (My thoughts went back to Barclays when I was a young lad..."I'd like to open an account", "Have you got a quid?", "Here you are.", "Okay, thanks, just sign here".)

I HAD NO OPTION but to open an account in the bank of the credit card, which I had been trying to avoid doing. I have to deposit a monthly payment in order for them to extract that payment for the bill. So here's me opening the account...compare this with the Barclays business above:

DO YOU HAVE PROOF OF WHERE YOU LIVE?
(I hand over an Electric bill with my name and address on)
PROOF OF INCOME.
(Last income tax declaration)
MOTHER'S NAME.
WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU NEED MY MOTHER'S NAME FOR???!!
I didn't say that, just supplied the info. Incidently my dear mother died 34 years ago.
ANY DEPENDENTS?
Two children
NAMES, AGES, EDUCATION UP TO NOW.
Now I'm getting a trifle annoyed. WHAT THE FUCKING HELL HAS THIS GOT TO DO WITH WHAT MONEY I WANT TO PUT IN OR TAKE OUT OF BANK???!!!
LOTS OF OTHER NORMAL INFO, JOB, TELEPHONE NUMBERS ETC.
okay, I don't mind that.
THEN SHE LOOKS AT THE ELECTRIC BILL NOTES DOWN THE AMOUNT AND PAYMENT DUE DATE.
NOW I'm mad and tell her. THAT IS AN INVASION OF PRIVACY!!


I WAS MAD. All that info went on the bank's computer of course. At the end I wanted to say, "oh you forgot...the colour of my underpants and prefered method of contraception while having sex, I use those damn rubber things you know, I'm thinking about getting the snip because injected hormones bloat the missus up too much and the oily rubber is quite yucky after doing it, isn´t it just? In fact it's quite yucky BEFORE doing it too, what does YOUR husband think?". But Brazilians don't quite understand irony so I stayed clammed.

((This is a test for a link, for some reason the inserted links didn't appear on my last post below so I'm trying it here, if they don't appear again... I've got a problem they are:

A Word or Two on Culture

MOTEL.
In Brazil, is not a place where you'd stop over with your family on a long journey.
MOTEL.
In Brazil, is for SEX!
Individual rooms, not in an apartment or hotel block type building, but in individual cells, though joined like mini terraced houses, with private parking for each one. You drive into the garage, very discreet, walk up the stairs straight into the suite.
The motels themselves vary in style, sometimes with a particular theme, Greek, Egyptian, Roman or whatever, and the suites vary in luxury, sometimes with fountains, most have ceiling mirrors and jacuzzis - the size depends on how much you pay (they even have suites with huge beds and jacuzzis for groups - invite your friends! Let's swing together!) Other facilities include a mini-fridge with refreshments, champagne or beer (Ultra expensive of course - I recommend you take yer own), room service for lunch, dinner or breakfast, depending on what time of day you stay (yes they are open 24 hours, you can pop in at 3 am, for a quickie). Ah, yes, they usually charge minimum 2 or 3 hours, and it's between about R$30 and R$200 for that, depending on the luxurity, let's convert that to pounds sterling - about 6 quid to 40 quid. For 40 quid you'll get a large jacuzzi, mirrors all over, 29" TV with porn channel, even mini heated swimming pool and open air solarium in some places.

Per night, motels are actually cheaper than HOTELS and a lot more fun, so if you come to Brazil as a couple with no kids, I recommend you stay in motels, not hotels!

As I Walked Out On a Summer's Day

I WUZ IN THE supermarket today, buying lunch - beer and meat, when at the beer shelves an old lady was a little indecisive in her choice and seeing me without hesitation directly grabbing a slab of my preferred Fine Brazilian Ale asked, "What is the beer we have to drink in the Winter, Kaiser Gold?", "No dear" I replied, "That would be Kaiser Bock". What the hell, drink any figgin' beer you want in the Winter. The wonders of modern advertizing.

AS MY REGULAR READERS (all 3 of 'em) know, I don't have a TV but occasionally my son brings his over for the weekend and I regress to vegetal state watching Sunday afternoon programmes. The other day on click went the box and what! I was instantly transported back to my wee childhood days a few million years ago - "BILL AND BEN THE FLOWER POT MEN" !!! Only it like wasn't the Bill and Ben that I used to know, there were no strings holding them up, though they still said "FLOBALOBALOB" only in Portuguese, and Weed also said "WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEED" also dubbed. Perhaps "regress" wasn't the right verb to use there, implies I was a vegetable before, well maybe I was.

The Actual Day

THE ACTUAL DAY. was 3rd May. Spent a few wonderful hours in a jacuzzi with Angie and a bottle of champers.
Want photos?
Fuck Off!

AND a Good Time was Had by ALL

NO COMMENTS since my "Where the FUCK is Waldo" post. I offended loads of people with the word FUCK and with a photo of naked people I suppose.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!
etc.

now yer all waiting for the photo of naked people again eh? well fuck off.

THE ANNUAL BIRTHDAY BASH went well. Barbie on the terrace with the best of friends, Victor YES! He made an appearance, only after calling him about 5 times. So at some time during the afternoon I was over the road buying more charcoal for phase 4 when V walked past speaking on his mobile "So where's Alan's flat then? I'm now walking past a corner shop..." , "HEY VICTOR you fuck!" (that fucking word again) so then as we're coming into the gate, Bardo arrives by car.

PHASE FOUR started with some fine slices of picanha mal passado of course there are always those that want it bem passado but tough shit, they have to wait until phase six at least. By phase six I was well pissed so I don't remember much but I still managed to serve the meat - that is after branding the palm of my hand with a U shape because of grabbing the red hot grill handle and consequently - I think, or it may have been another moment of relapse caused by BEER - dropping the picanha into the coals. I managed to fish it out with a skewer, nobody noticed the ashy taste.

SOMEWHERE / TIME BETWEEN phase six and seven we were dancing to THE KINKS, la-la-la-la-Lola, la-la-la-la-Lola, I know what I am, and I know I'm a man, and so is LOLA, in the 1 x 5m space between the computer and bookshelves. Also somewhere/time between phase 6 and 7 Angie threw up and went to have a "lie down".

MIRIAM OR VICTOR had brought a joint - we smoked. It was brown, I've never seen a brown joint before. I think it was the brown joint that induced the Kinks dancing scene and the vomiting Angie scene.

PEOPLE I HAVEN'T MENTIONED. Those present apart from Victor, Miriam, Bardo, Angie. Simone, insisting that next time the barbie must be in her place. Ian, without Carmen, trying to enjoy himself. Sergio and Lucinha, also trying to enjoy themselves, but with two super dooper kids anxious to discover everything and anything in a shorter time possible, quite tense.

SOMETIME / WHERE after phase seven myself, Victor and Bardo went out in the latter's car to get more beer in the supermarket, don't remember much from this only that we were breaking all the normal drinking and driving laws.

Just now I googled "Alan's 43rd birthday party" for images and it didn't find anything, none of my guests took a digital camera. Google found "Robert's 43rd birthday party" so there's a tiny photo up there on the right somewhere. I don't know who the figgins Robert is or where he's from but I guess one 43rd birthday party is pretty much the same as any other though Robert doesn't seem to be having as much fun as I had.

PEOPLE WHO WEREN'T there that maybe should have been or I would have liked to have seen there. Clara Northfleet, whom one day I shall meet. Albert Einstien also was not there.

KIDS are important, Sergio's and Lucinhas dynamites and Andreas, WHAT a combination. aNanda is no longer classified as a kid, next day she was asking why I kept saying that she is amazing. Well it's because she IS amazing.

NEXT DAY, the usual stomach like a washing machine full of liquified parmesan cheese, diced carrots and tomato skins. But I held it in folks!

I guess we'll be having FISH dinner, FISH supper

FISH breakfast, for the next few weeks or so

WHERE THE FUCK IS WALDO?

Look out of any window, any morning, any evening, any day,

MAYBE THE SUN IS SHINING...

Haven't got time for Jack Shit nowadays, you may have noticed - haven't been blogging.

Now there's a semantic puzzle, I HAVEN'T got time for Jack Shit OR I've GOT time for Jack Shit? What it means is I'm fucking BUSY-O. Especially with reading, I'm still ploughing through Aristotle (who was, as we know, a bugger for the bottle, Emanuel Kant was a real pissant and René Descartes was a drunken fart - I Drink Therefore I AM!)

THE NIGHTS are arriving earlier down here in the South of Brazil, right now it's 18.30 and dark already and a chill in the air.

Reading Narn i Hîn Húrin for the umpth time, after 8 years or so, I've noticed a huge gap in the story; one moment he's living with Mîm the Dwarf in Bar-en-Danwedh next he's back at Dor-lómin, searching for his mum and sister. The complete text can be found in The Silmarillion, though the Unfinished Tales version is longer and more detailed, The Silmarillion version has the whole story and doesn't leave any doubts such as the killing of Beleg Strongbow.

LOTS OF harmatia and peripeteia I can extract from that to get my final paper done.


TERRIBLY EXCITING blogging tonight what?
I have to go out and drink beer.