A BIg etry in Brazil
Trip Start
Jan 18, 2007
1
6
17
Trip End
Jul 01, 2008
Rio de Janeiro,
Brazil
Monday, October 15, 2007
Sound Track: Underworld: Born Slippy, Craig McGlahlin: Mona
after seeing my beautiful new jeans Tori decided she must get some herself so we went off to the shops. There were no jeans that took her fancy so she dragged me to a number of other shops in the middle of their sales. When shopping with women I feel its best to at least feign interest in what they are looking at as an annoyed girl shopping just shops for longer. It is also imperative to get them to buy something then they'll be more likely to stop if they feel satisfied. The males time to sulk and gasp for air comes when the female enters the changing room to take the inevitable 25 minutes to try on her 5-10 items, occasionally popping out to ask the males opinion which inevitably doesn't really matter to her she just wants to hear she looks ok, well good, great, lovely, amazing and awesome are generally better adjectives to use. Remember to actually look at what she's wearing and take between 2 and 4 seconds to decide on one of the afore mentioned words.
Between outfits I like to observe the goings on in the shop. Something I have noticed in Brazil is that no matter the size of the shop is it will always have at least double the amount of staff to customers. In the first shop we visited no more than 8mx8m there were nine yes nine members of staff. In the 45 minutes I only saw 2 people buy anything. How on earth can they afford to keep nine members of staff employed on a Tuesday afternoon if they are only 5 customers every hour? This made very little sense to me and I thought it must be a one off, but no, every shop we went into had at least eight cretins scurrying about trying desperately to part you with your money. Thankfully I only had to endure an hour and a half of shopping before Tori felt too guilty and let me go home. I was taken shopping the next day as well but it was ok because I had an Arsenal game to escape to.
The next Arsenal game came on Sunday, it was an early kick off at home (13:30) so I was in the pub by 09:25am here. Its a nice place, The Lord Jim its called and shows all the games from at home. So I reckon I've probably seen more of Arsenals season this year than ever in my life before. They don't have rules like in England here if you want to start drinking at 09:25 on a Sunday morning its your prerogative. I decided that as Arsenal were playing why not have a drink or two. By half time I'd finished a number of drinks and decided I should probably eat something to soak up some of the Alcohol which was making me a little shaky. I had some delightful bangers and mash. The second half kicked off and I continued drinking at a similar pace to which I had in the first. Arsenal won 3-1 so I had a wee celebratory drink then made my way home. Pissed. It was almost midday. This head start I'd had probably helped in what was to come later that day.
We were going to the Flu Vs Vasco match. Tori and the lads we were going with decided to get 16 beers between them, as many of you know I'm not a real man and I dislike beer to a fairly large degree. I decided to get a bottle of Vodka. I have a funny feeling you might know what's going to happen to silly Harry who drank half beer bottles of vodka at the same speed as the others drinking their beer. So 45 minutes and ¾ of a bottle of vodka later it was time to go into the stadium. Those of you who don't like my football reports don't worry I certainly can't give one on this game. Now I can give you some fairly vague details about what happened next. I remember falling over the first time, of four, but from then its all perhaps more than little blurry. I can safely say it was as drunk as I have ever been in my whole life. What I have been told since from various sources is that I fell off my chair from standing on 3 occasions and from sitting on another. I insisted on climbing the rails to chant for my seemingly beloved Fluminense at the top of my lungs. I also insisted on joining in with all the chants sang by the Young Flu's despite the fact I didn't know the words. I'm told I made some up.
When I got home I insisted on getting a Cervantes, then decided I needed to go home imminently. When I arrived home, 5 minutes before Tori I was found talking to the door asking why Tori wouldn't let me in. Simple answer, she wasn't there. Soon after getting in I vomited purple all over the flat, which led Tori to put me under a cold shower in an effort to clean me up a little. Never mind, we all do it at least once in our life.
On Monday Tori had to get up at 05:20 to give her enough time to plan her lesson. I just had to clear up the vial amounts of sick spread across the apartment. I cleared a gang way for Tori with my already horrific sick stained sheets used the toilet and went back to bed. Toris day immediately became much more interesting when, leaving the apartment, she was set upon by a group of lesbian prostitutes who called for the "beautiful Girl" to come over to them. Already late she was a little flustered imagine her horror when Lesbo 1 started undoing her trousers and stated look at my penis. It was in fact a strap on penis but still not really what you need to see at 07:00 when you are already late for work. Tori let out a little giggle and made her way.
I was left at home to clear up my mess and feel sorry for myself and nurse my aching face and shoulders which I had bruised and cut very nicely whilst battling with the stacked floor of the Maracaná.
After which I went into the internet café where I was greeted by the lady behind the counter asking if I had a hang over. I responded with a quick yes before going to sit next to Tori to use the internet. Soon after I had sat down Tori commented about my black eye and that I had an interesting aroma about myself. I logged off and left immediately as my aroma was likened to that of a drunk who had spent the night bathing in his own vomit. Funny that. When Tori got back she was mildly impressed with the clean up she did however point my in the direction of a few sections on walls and doors when I had missed the odd splatter.
A friend we had made whilst in Buenos Aires, Tracy, arrived on Tuesday evening. Tracy is a rare breed. She's one of those Americans whom I genuinely like. Not tolerate, but actually like. She has proved that the only nation that it is reasonable to judge on sight is Israel, thus removed the USA from my previous hit list. Don't get me wrong there are still many many annoying, irritating, Bush loving yanks whom I detest. However along with Cathie Kemp, who is in fact German American (a seemingly terrible combination) they have proved it isn't really fair to judge the entire nation on the majority of its population.
It was nice to have someone staying with us again, sharing the grossly extortionate rent, bringing it to a more reasonable level.
The next morning I took a trip to the internet café where I check my regular 3 websites, daily. BBC.co.uk/football, Hotmail and yes I'm afraid my life is totally sucked into and almost revolves around facebook. Well it's become a quasi-religious act to check it everyday to see how many of my friends really miss me. Alas I tend to have very few people thinking of me back home or at least if you are then you certainly aren't showing it. So half way through my hour of trawling through my 4 messages, one from Mum one from Tommy, one from Brett and one from Sarah, I receive a, what some may feel unnecessary, boost to my ego. There's a knock on the huge window I am sitting beside on the other side of which is a fairly attractive female. She starts telling me to call her and reads out her phone number. Thinking she is obviously either joking or a hooker, the later an opinion I still hold, I try my hardest to ignore her. She persists, knocking on the window telling me her name is Daniella and I should call her she's only in Rio for 4 days. I again laughed and turned away. She knocks again and insists I take down her number so, as she has thoroughly embarrassed me in front of 5 or 6 internet users, I decide to take it down. It's at this very moment she begins to ask me questions what's my name, where am I from. Answering these questions quietly through a double glazed window is very difficult and when it came to where do I come from she had severe difficulty. "Inglaterra" I said.
"Where? Norway?" she shrieked
"No, INGLATERRA" I retorted more forcefully on this occasion.
"Where? Germany?"
"INGLATERRA, ENGLAND" By this point the other café dwellers were becoming quite agitated at me being so loud and I become even more embarrassed and looked to the guy behind me in a "help me" kind of way.
"Where? Germany" she asked again.
I decided to agree and just accept that to her I looked like a humourless mainlander.
This wasn't enough for Daniella, she marched into the place and demanded to see I had written down her number, which thankfully I had, and to enquire again where I was from. I told her Inglaterra, with she she smiled told me again she'd only be around for 4 days and insisted I called her later that day. Needless to say I didn't, I don't trust any women in this area of town, as they'll probably expect some kind of reward for just meeting them, let alone anything else they might desire. It did however prompt me to avoid the window seat if I didn't want to be picked out as a gringo single male again, as it happens everyday. I also don't need re-assurance to make me feel like I'm some kind of sex god. I know for a fact I am the object of most womens desires I just feel it'd be better if most women around these here parts weren't hookers.
My undeniable draw to the opposite sex was again reinforced on my way back to my apartment. In the building I recently discovered was called the "Miami Centre". I was just turning the corner at the top of the stairs when a female, about 30 or so and perhaps not a hooker on this occasion (although she most likely was), kept moving in order to prevent me passing. I found this quite unnerving. She asked how I was and what my name was. I said I was fine and my name was Nigel. She went on to introduce her self as Mona and continue along the hall with me until I was at my apartment door. On this occasion I did have my key and entered, she said her good byes and that she'd see me later. Thankfully she did just mean it in the way we do. See you later, In a bit. Tchau, Ate Logo. She didn't come by and rape me later tat nigh much to my delight. She does however clearly have some kind of soft spot for me because every time I see her she asks how I am and continues to pry further into my personal details. Now you may think this is someone just being friendly but it really isn't. As I've mentioned before I know most women do clearly fancy me, who can blame them, but Mona is not discreet about it in anyway. Which is fine by me, she can look, but she certainly can't touch.
Up until this point the weather had been pretty shitty since my argument with the Maracaná and a bottle of vodka. The sun came back out I decided my wounds needed some vitamin D. So I picked up my book and dragged my sorry arse down to the beach in the hope the sun might make the aches and pains finally go away. My book was given to me by Tracy, "Men in Love, Men's Sexual Fantasies. The Triumph of Love Over Rage" this book I must say had me very intrigued until I started reading it. It is a book that, in my humble opinion, is best read as comedy if you take it seriously it will make you sick. Do people really have sex with their Mothers and is it really normal to sniff your sisters rear end. To me these notions are pretty far from the norm but the occur frequently throughout the book. I must point out at this juncture that the book is taken from the findings of an American psychologist from her studies of American men. I guess that explains a lot. I've not yet reached the Animals section but I have a feeling it will bring me a great deal of amusement and disgust. I must add now Tracy hadn't bought this book nor had she read it yet. She mealy picked it up in a hostel book exchange in Chile which aren't renowned for their variety or quality. I am however curious as to which sick fuck bought this book in the first place.
I digress, so I was at the beach feeling sorry for myself and I needed something to cheer me up. My luck was in. Whilst looking up for my book at one point I saw a fairly rotund woman turning herself to toast her back for a while. What people in Rio normally do is sit on a reclining chair to tan their front then move to the ground to do their back. Miss Piggy however was adamant she wasn't going to sink the the lows of laying on the ground and proceeded to turn herself in her chair. It started to wobble so she edged her way slowly down the chair to get better balance. After a few minutes of edging she decided she was steady and put her arms by her side. Around 30 seconds after really settling in her chair again started to tip, only on this occasion she didn't have time to stop her self with her hands and like I had a few days earlier she cushioned her fall with her face. It was hilarious. One of the funniest things I have ever seen on the beach. A big fat woman with a face full of sand, her legs poking up in the air and a fairly strained beach chair struggling to hold this monsters weight. She hauled her self up and looked around embarrassed checking to see if she had been spotted. As many of you know subtlety isn't really my forte and I fear she may have realised I had spotted the incident by the fact I was curled up in a ball howling with laughter. She scowled for a while and decided to move to the floor, I decided she had suffered enough and picked up my book and went home, laughing all the way.
It was independence day on Friday and we went to the beach, it was as busy as I'd ever seen it. We were treated to a display of many ships from across the globe and a number of sailing old skool ships as well. It was a real treat I must admit.
That night we had a few guests over and I decided that it was necessary for me to have 4 dinners that night. 2 of which were Cervantes, pictures of which can be found in the links below. Oh man I love Cervantes.
The following day we went to the pub to watch the England game. Tori got completely pissed whilst enjoying some banter with a who cru Sp*rs fans and a regular at the Lord Jim Graham. It was only at this point I realised we had now become regulars as we were on first name terms with the manager and most of the bar staff. I think it's the first time I've been a regular in a pub. It's pretty weird. I took my students to the match as I desperately wanted to watch it and them being boys obviously wanted to join in on the fun and have an extra long lesson that day. We also decided that we would celebrate England's crushing of the Palestine oppressors by going out that night.
When the evening came Tori and Tracy both bailed on me and I was left to go out with 1 of my students and a number of his friends. It was I can say without a shadow of a doubt the worst night out I have ever been on. It was the biggest non-event in the history of non-events. More of a flop than the millennium dome. We arrived at the most exclusive club in town, the boys decided they didn't want to go in because there weren't enough people their. We were on the guest list as it was a friend of theirs birthday. But nooooooo. We can't go in there, there's only 80 people inside. Ok. What next??? Let's stand in the street for another hour. Fine I'm down with that. Right we finally came to the decision we were going to a different club. Yes I thought. We got there, there was a huge queue. Oh no too many people. What the fuck, so I insisted we queued. We stood by the queue while Gabriel, my student, asked about the price of entry. He returned saying it was R$100 if you weren't on the list. I asked did he ask to put us on the list. No. So we stood in the street some more. By this time I'd been out of the flat for nigh on two hours and I'd not touched a drop. They then decided we would go to a club within spitting distance of my apartment. Great I thought easy to get home. When we pulled up it was decided however that the girls who were there were sexy but not beautiful so it wasn't going to be a fun night. I told them I wasn't fussed about what girls were in there I wanted to get drunk seeing's I'd already spent hours out of the apartment and I'd also spent a while making myself look as beautiful as possible, which was devilishly so I must add. But no a grand total of two and three quarter hours after leaving the apartment I returned. I hadn't spent a penny I hadn't touched a drop and not even a hair had moved out of place. I can safely say it was the most pointless waste of time since I have been in South America. The boys said as I was getting out of the car. "We'll go out next week, It'll be more exciting"
"To be honest lads" I said. "If I went to the hospital and had to pass a kidney stone it'd be more exciting than this week" I think they understood the joke as much as I had the conversation between the 5 Portuguese speaking boys that night. I only have myself to blame for that though. I agreed to go out the following week as I realised nothing could be as painfully boring as the night I had just experienced.
The sun was still out the next day and we decided to go to the beach (what a surprise) on our way we saw a whole bunch of sailors enjoying some shore leave after their Independence Day displays. Tori laughed at the 6 sailors crossing the road in front of us in matching shorts and t-shirts. I commented at least they didn't have to wear their uniform to which Tori responded "Yeah but they do have to wear their PE kit" which sent me into fits of laughter which prompted the sailors to turn around and glare at me.
Tracy joined us on the beach at about 11:00 at which point I began what I do best. I bitched. About everything and everyone. I've decided the best thing to do on a lazy Sunday when everyone is out, is to spend the whole day in out in the sun having a good old "Beach Bitch".
I hope you are all well.
Peace and Fucking
Hxx
18/09/07
Cock Muff Bumhole
My week pretty much started on Thursday last week, when I was called into the office to discuss my lessons. Oh dear, I thought my already meagre amount of hours was going to be cut for me being just too good at teaching. Alas I was wrong I was given a number of other classes and I now earn enough to cover my rent and a few days worth of food. In October then I'm handed a further 3.25 hours I might just might break even so fingers crossed for that. My new Classes take me far and wide and involves around 3 hours worth of travelling which is paid for. I now travel on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 07:30 to the Lagoa (the posh end of town) then onto Barra (pronounced Baha) which is a fairly new area of Rio which has an enormous shopping mall, I call it a mall because it is trying so desperately to be American it even has area's of the place named after states in US and next door to this monstrosity is New York City Center. Errgh how droll. I shall get onto my adventures in Pseudo-Suburbia in a short while first I will talk at great length about what is possibly one of the greatest weekends I have experienced. Why? I hear you ask. Well....... I saw more football this weekend than I though humanly possible. It was fantastic.
On Friday I had gone to the Maracaná to get tickets for the Flamengo Vs Vasco game which was to come on Sunday. Neither of the teams involved in this game are my beloved Fluminense but it is however the biggest game in Brazilian football. A game I have wanted to see for years. So it was no sweat of my sack when I had to go and queue for an hour and a half after I finished work (08:30). It was pretty hot so as soon as I got my tickets I returned home.
On my way into the apartment I saw a man getting rather vexed with the lift system indicating that no matter how many times he pressed the button the lifts would just keep going by without stopping to let him in. We're on the 3rd floor so admittedly by now he could have walked down the stairs alas he was fighting a losing battle with the lift. I decided to help him, rather than just walk off laughing, and pointed out that he would have to actually press the button rather than just the arrow next to it. A few seconds later a lift arrived and he trotted off happily. How do people get through life when they are so desperately simple I'll never know. Another simpleton I encountered the next day was a street "artist" it was a man dressed in a clown out fit with a rubber ring around himself acting like a complete wank stain at the traffic lights. I've seen people juggling with fire, people doing a highly convincing mime act and still not been compelled to give them money. This dickead on the other hand I was compelled to only give him insults and a fairly stern glare. IDIOT! My final rant on the stupid people of this glorious city comes with a guy who spends day and night out side our building (The Miami Center) just watching and sleeping and occasionally sweeping the pavement. He had a bad leg and hobbles round on crutches all day. I must say I was slightly surprised when I saw him behind a nice 4x4 with a tool box. Wow I thought maybe he has a talent and s a mechanic. Oh no no no no he had dipped into the tool box to pull out a pair of pliers which he was using to cut his toe nail. Give me strength! I'm not even going to go into the fact 73% of men have stupid tattoos of their wives/mothers/daughters/grandmothers on their arms/legs/backs because I fear my head will explode with the pure idiocy of it all.
The weekend arrived and I knew from the outset it was going to be a good weekend. I'd just got some more lessons and I was set for what can only be described as a veritable feast of football.
Saturday started at 08:00 when we went to the Lord Jim to watch a fairly boring Everton Vs Man Utd game, Tori wa son the beers nice and early, I had to refrain due to my lesson a few hours later. Then the weekend really kicked off. Arsenal Vs Sp*rs at "The Lane" a game Martin Jol was very confident about, despite have a team with only one decent midfielder and a strike force who apparently don't like hitting the target. It took for their 18 year old Chimp-o-like Gareth Bale to get them off to a glorious start. In the second half I was joined by a the travelling branch of the Yid Army who took great delight in winding me up about the score. I however had the next laugh the one after and indeed the final laugh as we took them apart and scored 2 amazing goals and one average one. I couldn't have been happier.
After my lesson I went to a Barbecue restaurant. It was Orson Fuckin' Wells. The staff bring round a constant supply of various meats cooked to perfection. I must have eaten a Kilo of meat that day it was SO GOOD. Beef, Lamb, Ham, Pork I actually think if there is a heaven my day so far would defiantly been it. Arsenal beating the yids then as much meat as I can force into my rapidly expanding stomach. My day however improved with Chelsea and Liverpool both failing to win it left Arsenal Atop of the table Woo. The weekend just kept improving. My next stop was my by now regular haunt, the Maracaná. It's a little more extravagant than Sixfields and considerably cheaper to boot. My Saturday was complete when my beloved Flu destroyed bottom of the table America to move them up to 5th. Despite being complete my Saturday hadn't yet come to an end.
After the game I returned home to find Tori and Tracy being irritated by a child across the street flashing a lazer pen in through the window. I dealt with the the only way I knew how........ I dropped my trousers and showed the child my arse, slightly perverted you may think but the child feeling clearly violated hasn't troubled us since.
That night we went to a club called Mariozinn it was terrible I was pummelled with R n B all night long and my friends slowly deserted me as they went on what can only be described as a slag hunt. This club was completely filled to the rafters with horrible slaggy whores, 90% of whom weren't even mildly attractive and the other 10% had clearly slept with enough people in their life to give you every STD you could ever wish for in one fell swoop. By 03:30 however I became very bored and sank well below my normal standards and through pure boredom decided I might as well kiss at least one girl I did, I thought she was going to suck my tongue out of my mouth and decided it was time to make a shape exit. So I went and told Tori who was also having her face sucked off by some lecherous Brazilian guy that I was leaving and tottered off home. I'd like to add now I was very concerned for my friends health and insisted she came with me she however straight up refused so I went home with one of the most annoying people the world has ever seen. A friend of a friend called Renato, who insisted on trying to get us robbed by every lady boy we encountered along the 2 minutes walk home. Thankfully I had Raphael there to keep him at least a little bit under wraps. The next day Tori discovered she had lost her notebook in the process of taking this guys number and email address and decided it'd be a good idea to join Orkut (like facebook) in an effort to track him down. A little stalkerish maybe but it amused Tracy and I a great deal. Later that day we were off to what had been billed the biggest game in Brazil. Vasco Vs Flamengo. Of course I was completely neutral at this match as I wanted both teams to lose, in the end however I decided to sit in the Vasco end as Flamengo are much more hateable in my eyes.
The game was fairly dull with a ref so stupidly biased (in favour of Flamengo) it reminded me of the days of the mightiest shithead in the whole world, Ed Morris who use to officiate over a great deal of The Saints games and clearly had a distaste for my beautiful home town club.
The game ended 1-1 and the turnout was a disappointing 60,000 the atmosphere was fairly exciting none the less. Nothing on a Flu game though I have to admit.
Mid week was fairly in eventful. In the day on Tuesday I went and did my new lessons, between which I visited the vast shopping mall to kill some time. Now I'm not sure if it indicate the quality of shopping centre or my overly childish nature but I spent a large portion of my 1 and a half hours playing in a toy shop. The rest of my time was spent contemplating buying an overly expensive book on "The Bridges that Changed the World" in the end I decided against it and just read through it. I went back on Thursday to finish reading it.
After my lessons I decided to go along to a free volleyball lesson on the beach which I had been invited to by someone from my gym. I have to say it was possibly the single most embarrassing hour of my life.
I use to play volleyball at school. In fact I was pretty fucking good at volleyball at school, being the top scoring member of the all conquering 11k Inter Form Volleyball Champions of 2000 I felt I would have a fairly easy transition from indoor 5's to beach 2's. I'm afraid I couldn't have been more wrong. Now I hadn't been warned by my gym friend that I was going into the advanced group as I had boasted previously that I had been quite the volleyball star in my teenage years. Within 5 minutes of arriving I was already a laughing stock and If you could have seen the look on the persons face who had to play with me in the games at the end of training you would have all laughed pretty hard. He didn't even congratulate me when I did actually play a good shot that's how annoyed he was. Admittedly I did only play 6 good shots in 3 matches but that's beside the point. I felt like a kid at school who had just pissed himself and everyone was pointing and laughing. Beach doubles is not the game for me. I'm sure you won't be surprised when I say I don't think I'll be returning to 'm the scene of that particular crime against sport I'm thinking of taking up Jiu Jitsu instead.
My next lesson in Barra just 2 days after my harrowing beach experience I was left feeling a shadow of a man in the public eye again. I go from one lesson in Lagoa then catch a fairly interesting bus to Barra about 30km's away. On this occasion I failed to secure myself a seat so I stood up, obviously. Before the bus pulled off I was searching for my mp3 player an succeeded in throwing all of my books papers and pens onto a guy on the back seat. He didn't look impressed. To make matters worse I was desperate for the toilet and wearing linen trousers so even the slightest dribble would show. This is not good on a bumpy crazy bus ride. The final nail in my coffin of ignorance came when I decided now would be a good time to start reading my book to take my mind off the desperate need for a piss and the lack of facilities immediately available to me. So I took one hand off the rail and started reading my book. Approximately 6 seconds later I had lost my grip and was flung back by the jerky bus onto the lap of the person I had previously thrown the contents of my bag. I didn't only feel small I felt small embarrassed and like I wanted to piss myself although now it would be worse than that time the kid did it at school because I was wearing white trousers and on my way to teach and executive at a fairly large oil company. The name of which shall remain anonymous as my morals have been seriously corrupted by my new employers. I was lucky this time. I didn't piss myself and the man whom I had caused serious annoyance to got off the stop after I had straddled him. So I have a few small morsels of advice for those of you ever thinking of coming to Rio. If you're thinking of taking a bus and it can be avoided go with the other option. Always go to the toilet before boarding a bus, you never know when you'll hit the wrong bump and bye bye goes any shred of dignity remaining. Most importantly though NEVER let go. It is of vital importance that 2 hands are employed on the rail at all times, even if it is hot and sweaty.
That evening our landlord came round and said we may have to move to a different apartment. It was a bigger apartment with 2 bedrooms and a view over a forest. Tori and I decided there was only one fair way to decide who got the bigger room. A best of seven game of Cock Muff Bumhole. This fantastic game is like Paper Scissors Stone with a twist. I have attached some photos of the hand movements but the rules state. Cock (middle finger pointed towards opponent) fucks Bumhole (circle made with thumb and fore finger again pointed at opponent). Bumhole farts up Muff (two fingers directed towards your opponent) and finally Muff smothers Cock. It's a fairly simple game and the best thing about it is. It's not good 'cos its rude, its good 'cos people think that its good 'cos its rude. I must give a huge thank you to Nathan Barley for bringing this game into the public eye. Chris Morris and Charlie Brooker I salute you. Anyway the crux of the matter is Tori won. She fucked my bumhole more times than I could fart up her muff and she smothered my cock as well I was left feeling defeated and dejected. Lucky for me though our landlord decided there was no need to move so the battle is completely null and void in my opinion.
We decided Friday would be a good night to introduce Tracy to Lapa the place where people party in the street. Prior to going to Lapa we decided to have a few drinks overlooking Botofogo Bay. The view was fantastic and the Cipri Vodkas were fairly cheap. So after having a skin full we decided to go onto Lapa. Raphael dropped his car off at home where I decided it was time for a piss. Being a man the world is my toilet and I decided to go behind a big column in Raph's car park. Tracy on the other hand being a girl and being desperate for the toilet did for the first time in her life drop em and pissed in the corner of the car park. Only to be squatting right in front of the CCTV. She decided she wouldn't be embarrassed as no one watches them anyway. Much to our amusement, on the way out the doorman was obviously watching avidly over the CCTV screens about 6 inches from his face. What was funnier was the fact Tori, also desperate for a piss, decided to hold on just a second longer and discovered about 6 seconds from Tracy's WC an real toilet, with soap and water and a towel and toilet paper, it even had a shower. Tracy was a little miffed to say the least but at least she can now say she's pissed in a car park and at the end of the day isn't that what we all want to do with our lives.
After a fair few drinks, a couple of calls from our main man in the mainland Jasper and a wonder round the streets of Lapa we decided it was time to go home (03:30) as we were having a big night the next night, oh and I had classes and a football match to watch the next day. On our way home we stopped at Chico's a burger van by Botafogo bay. I had been told they do food that is considerably better than Cervantes and much cheaper It wasn't. I did eat the biggest monstrosity known to man. After which I went to clean my face but was unable to as the tissues provided seemed to be laminated so all I ended up doing was smearing the grease all over my face. I guess it's not really a surprise that my skin condition is decreasing rapidly.
It was a glorious game to watch. Arsenal 5-0 Derby. It set me up for another enjoyable weekend of sporting action. My lesson then went very well as I was in such a good mood, I was then invited by the family of my student to stay for lunch and use their internet to check my emails etc. Now I'm not sure if a Saturday can actually get much better. Not only did I watch a game that only those who had bought tickets at home could watch. I also got fed and used free internet, AND got paid to do it. You will hear no complaints from me for once that's for sure. The food was great as well. Gabriel's mother has taken me to heart as I joined her in eating Veg something none of the 3 male members of her family do.
That night we went to an apparently posh night vlub. It was packed and we didn't get inside until about 01:30 which meant about 5 hours and 6 Ciprivodkas later we were completely pissed and needing our beds. I somehow managed to go and buy some water in, what can only be described as the second drunkest I've ever been, from the local super market. I looked bad and smelt worse. I fear my penchant for CipriVodkas is turning me into a hardened drinker and I will never be able to get drunk in any other country. Never mind, no sweat of my sack.
When I woke up however at around midday vomiting was the course of action I took, for about 5 hours, until tori dragged me out of bed to what was the greatest game of football I've watched on my travels.
It was Flu Vs Fogo. I am delighted to say Flu won to become the top team in Rio once again. MELHOR DO RIO. As we were singing throughout the 2-0 victory over our middle class rivals.
The turning point of the match being a wonderful point blank save from Fernando Henrique, what made it was the fact that after he had made the saved he turned around to the crown and did the symbol of the Hardcore Fans (Young Flu) by putting two clenched fists above his head. This went down a treat. If any of you are at all interested the highlights are on youtube and are very much worth a watch. Fucking awesome game and the atmosphere was absolutely amazing. My Portuguese is also improving thanks mostly to the delightfully tuneful songs sang over and over again within the Young Flu. There were a few firsts for me at this game. 1: I took my shirt off (it s 33 degrees and very sweaty) 2: I waved a very big flag. 3: I was on the big screen for everyone to see (waving the big flag.) My weekend was again a huge success and I enjoyed it greatly.
After the game we went to an old lookout point to view the city and retired home, we had lessons to plan.
Tuesday was a sad day for Tori and I as our American friend left us to travel to the jungle and drink some vine juice at a week long seminar with a Shaman. An experience that sounds both exhilarating and mind expanding. Might have to give it a shot. I'm looking forward to the reports.
Well I'm off to get ready to go to the Cinema, The Bourne Ultimatum has just been released so I'm going to go and convince myself that I am in fact Jason Bourne and probably injure myself on my journey home.
Shed loads of Love and Jism
Hxx
Soundtrack: New Cassettes.
My my hasn't it been a long time. Over two weeks in fact. I would like to start with a few honourable mentions. Firstly Happy Birthday to Barney West he celebrated his 24th just a few days ago. Also Happy Birthday to my Auntie Julie for the 31st. Which apart from being Halloween and her birthday it's also the date of the next New Cassettes gig in the mighty shire. Now would be a good time to buy tickets before they sell out. I've been told they are resembling a number of Hot Cakes at a School Fair and are going quickly. Whilst on the subject of the mighty New Cassettes they're new single is due to be released on the 5th of November so go and get yourself one. That's an order. Finally on that matter they are also playing the BBC Electric Proms get on the web and have a wee look pretty fucking Jackson I'd have to say. Other news from at home is fairly sparse to my knowledge if anyone has any please send them too me as I will soon be a very lonely boy with Tori jetting off to the far east and leaving me to cook for myself.
Now I'm not sure how I'm going to feel when she leaves, I have a strange feeling it might resemble having a leg removed as I've spent almost everyday of the past 4 years with her, I am going to miss her quite a lot but as they say there is no point living in the past and with the glories of Skype available she'll probably be able to grip my shit from which ever corner of the globe she is on. As of this Wednesday it really is the end of an era for me, no more harryandtori it will return to simply being Harry The Don this is a day I've dreaded for months but the show must go on.
Ok back to my last few weeks. Again my life has been dominated by sport and I have viewed various sports avidly brining me a lot of Joy. I'll get on to that in a bit. Firstly I will discuss a night out I had a couple of weeks back. We went to an Egyptian restaurant and puffed on some tasty tobacco. I would put malacas but I have no idea how to spell it so I'm going with the safe option of tobacco. Anyway after we had puffed our way through a nice amount we decided it was time to head off to a club. Of course it's never easy with Brazilians is it and the first club we went to wasn't suitable so we moved on. I am really glad we did because the next place we went to musically reminded me of the top floor in "The Lounge" on a Thursday night back in the day. The club itself however reminded me of a house party. Why did it remind you of that Harry? Well maybe because it was IN A HOUSE a club in a house. Not a converted house just a house with normal rooms and doorways, sofa's, stair and all shit the shit you'd expect in a house. A normal house with a club in it. I was simply amazed. Looking back on it now, I'm even more amazed I mean honestly who ever thought of putting a club in a house. Is that the best bit about it though I hear you cry. Oh no my friends this houses that is a club also serves a wide variety of foods including pizzas. It was fucking ace. Whether I'll go there again is another matter as the majority of the people in their seemed to forget washing is not an option but something most people in the world really should do. Again Thursday night lounge came to mind.
The next night was spent at a house party where I was forced to drink shots of flaming Tequila and Blue Curaçao though a straw which wasn't the most pleasant of experiences. A couple of days later it was Gabriels turn to have an apartment party, this time however it was because it was his birthday and was in fact arranged by his Mum who had gone to Europe for a couple of weeks. On the way to the party we walked down what we like to call shit ally. It's a secluded ally that runs along the outside of Flamengo metro station. The reason it's name is the fact that all the way along this 300m ally there is human shit next to every pillar. At the very moment Tori was saying how bad it smelt I turned to my right and saw right there a mere matter of feet away, you've guessed it a guy curling off a massive turd. Now I'll show my compassionate side here, the guy was homeless so a quiet ally with a lot of mini hiding places it probably the best place for it. I just wish I hadn't had to witness it.
It was at this second party I discovered a something which to me was a bit surprising. Most Brazilians have a maid who works at least 3 times a week. When I said I didn't have a maid at home one lad said. "But who does your laundry? Who does the washing up?"
My jaw almost hit the floor. I was even told of a friend who has 5 maids who work daily. Well until the weekend, at the weekend their mothers have to wash up. I love this country. Pure class.
We left the party quite early as Tori was feeling a little under the weather. Nothing a nice cup of tea wouldn't cure. Alas as soon as we arrived home just before midnight we discovered there was no milk in the fridge. It became apparent that I would have to go and get some from the 24 hour supermarket. I was finally persuaded when I said I would go if she made the teas and coffees for until she left. She agreed due to the fact she had lesson the next morning, I don't know if any of you have encountered Tori without caffeine in the mornings but it is a sight even less pretty than your regular morning Tori. She's a top girl but morning certainly isn't her best times. Anyway I got to the supermarket thinking I would be in and out . Oh no. Why would I be in and out this is Brazil. So I started queuing I was one place away from the cashier and they decided it was shift change closed their till and fucked off. Before I had the chance to get into the new queue there were already people in front of me. I ended up queuing for almost 40 minutes just for fucking milk for Tori. I wasn't best pleased, I was even less impressed when I got home and found Tori fast asleep so no coffee for me.
The next day was my first day teaching at the British School. Prior to this lesson I have an hour wait in Barra between lessons. It was at this point I discovered I had a stalker. The is a girl whom I had met in a club a few weeks earlier. She had seen me on the Tuesday before during my break from one class to the next where she had pestered me and asked why I hadn't called her. Now I didn't even have sex with the girl for god sake she didn't even suck me off, nothing happened. I this first meeting however to chance. On this occasion, however I decided it was clearly stalky behaviour. As I was finishing the last sips of my coffee I heard a sound from behind me. "Harry" fuck I thought there aren't going to be many people around here with that name. I turned round and placed a hugely fake smile on my face and beamed "Hi Vanessa, How are you?" I was again asked why I hadn't called. I decided to put my books on my lap to cover the bulge in my trousers (my phone) and told her my phone had been stolen. She swallowed it (the lie) and I managed to get rid of her by saying I was going to be late for my lesson. Thankfully I have avoided the shopping mall since then and thus avoiding my stalker. The next day I needed to go to the airport to extend my Visa. This was when my weekend of queues began. I arrived at the airport. It took 4 hours and a lot of slow motion movie style running between various areas of the airport desperately trying to get everything sorted before they closed at 16:00. So red tape cut through annoying attendants passed I was again legal to stay in this delightful country for another 3 months. That evening we were due to celebrate Gabriels birthday again at a nightclub called Baronetti (pronounced Baronech) it had ben sold to me as the best club in Rio. We queued for hours before finally being let into what I can only describe as the worst night club I've ever been to. I was hassled by a Chelsea supporting Joo for hours, trying to convince me that Frank Lampard was the best midfielder in the world. Fucking ignorant Palastine hating cum flake. I was bored so I left and paid through the nose. If anyone ever comes to Rio (which you should) make sure no one convinces you to go to this shit hole. I have to say I had a better night when we stood in the street for hours on end.
The next day however the greatest weekend of my life began. Whilst watching West Ham lose to Villa I was watching the updates and listening to the England Vs Australia on the radio. My friend Kan(garoo) was a little surprised at the end of the game to see me quite so happy. I was jumping around the room singing and doing what can only be described as my happy dance. It's a little dance I do when I'm stupidly happy. What made this result a little sweeter was the fact the cobblers beat Port Vale (fuck you Robbie Williams) so my weekend of sport had started perfectly. I then went to queue for tickets for Fla Flu. What was promising to be the highest crowd for a Brazilian league match all season. I should fucking hope so, I was in the queue for 2 fucking hours. Who in cunts name did they only have one window of the ticket office open for such a big match. IDIOTS.
I finally got my tickets and left. The game was the next day. First however I watched Arsenal squeeze past Scumderland in a highly absorbing encounter. I knew after this game that Fluminense were a shoe in for victory that evening and I went to the game fully expecting victory. I wasn't disappointed. This was by up there as my second best sporting event I've ever had the pleasure to attend second only to The Saints winning the European cup at Twickenham in 2000. It was different though. The atmosphere at this Fla Flu was absolutely amazing. There are a few videos on facebook for those of you who have such a facility please feel free to peruse them. Everyone was given a receipt roll and a number of flares and told to throw the roll just before the players come out then light the flares when they are entering the pitch. Now to me it doesn't take a genius to work out that a huge pile of very dry paper and a large amount of burning cinders don't mix particularly well. No sorry I take that back. They mix very fucking well. There were fires all over the place did people attempt to put them out, oh no they just lit their other flares off the mini fires. I can see how the disaster at Bradford happened at least these people aren't as stupid as those northern idiots and don't use a wooden stand. The songs were amazing the people were bouncing. All I can say is all the regulations in English football have clearly taken a lot of atmosphere out of the games. The football isn't as good as at home but I have to say sitting through a game at The emirates, yes it's comfortable but it has nothing on Brazil, nothing at all. The game itself was hugely satisfying. After 78 second the mighty Somaliá got on the end of a Alex Días cross and with a fantastic strike he kneed the ball home from 4 yards out in what won't go down as a contender for goal of the season. It did however spark scenes of utter joy in the Fluminense end. The place was literally rocking. The rest of half was spent camped in our 18 yard box due to the fact the referee was insistent on giving Flamengo a free kick every time on of their player decided it was time for a lie down. They of course could take it from wherever they wanted. I'm sure if there was an inquiry into the corruption in sport Flamengo might receive the same treatment as those cheating bastards Juventus.
It was ok though we made it to half time 1-0. the second half started at a million miles an hour and by the second minute we were 2 up. Thiago Neves who has recently signed a permanent deal with the club tapped home a deflected Somaliá effort and we had ourselves a nice 2 goal cushion. The second half was a more even contest with both sides having a couple of chances. In the end though 2/3's of the 73,616 crowd went home disappointed and as they left the were greeted with the songs of Fluminense which goes something along the lines of. You're mother fuckers, thieves, bitches and Prostitutes goodbye Flamengo. A lovely tune I must say, it was music to my ears. We were held back however to prevent any violence at the end of the game. A few of the die hard fans almost broke through the gates however as they were about to escape however the police decided there was no chance of that and sent a nice stream of pepper spray into the crowd. I must say it was the first time I had received such treatment and I would gladly go a whole life time never doing so again. Tori put it perfectly. It felt like I had inhaled half a ton of fibreglass not the most pleasant of experiences. I can say now say that I've been gassed. Harry 1 Joo's 1. Not quite the same perhaps.
My weekend of sporting glory was complete. I was as happy as I've been since 2003. It was incredible.
The next week started fairly well with some lessons being cancelled and me doing some more movie style running to get to my lessons. The only problem with this is when you are as sweaty as my and you run around in 33 degree heat you need to take a trip to the bathroom before you can teach so it's kind of counter productive, when you just make it to the train then bus though it does make you feel like a hero.
On the Thursday it was announced tickets for the first Brazil game in 7 years at the Maracaná were on sale. So straight after me class (15:00) I went and queued and queued and queued. I was in the queue for a mighty 4 hours. 4 HOURS. I have never been so bored in my entire life. What made things worse was the guy in front of me, who was about 15, was standing kissing his girlfriend for the whole 4 hours. Now PDA's (public displays of affection) do generally irritate me (what doesn't) but when it's two of the most unattractive people I have ever had the displeasure to lay my eyes upon it just makes me angry. To make matters worse the boy was clearly yet to discover antiperspirant he fucking stank he kept putting his arm on the wall to get closer to his vial pig of a "girl"friend and almost knocking me out. My tails of woe in the queue weren't only this disgusting pair ohhh no that was merely the start of it. The girls behind us had clearly taken a shine to me. I know we can't really blame them for that. But when it looks like a blind man has flicked your teeth into your ample gums then tried to sort them out with masses of metal do you really think you would have a chance with someone as beautiful as me? Simple answer NO. But she kept on. Eventually her loathsome ginger counterpart gave up on trying to speak stilted English to me and pretty much left us alone. T-Rex however kept on and on at us for the whole 4 hours. If this was the end of the tale I would be very happy but when she asked us for our email addresses I obviously gave them a fake one harry.peters@hotmail.com . Hahaha I though, but Kan decided it would be a good idea to give them his real one so they could locate him on the internet and find me through him. I was greeted with horror the next morning when I woke up and checked the internet to find a message from T-rex clearly using a translator asking how I was. I might go and find it as it is sheer comedy. Obviously I blocked her and pretended she never existed and decided to use her face only to hold myself back the next time I was on the verge of coming.
The weekend came nice and quickly as it was another public holiday and we had a 4 day weekend. The first of which we went to the beach with a couple of Man U supporting lads from Coventry. It was completely packed 4.5ks of umbrellas. Errghh it was horrible. There weren't even many hotties to look at.
That night was spent in Lapa again I didn't have a very good night and went home early, very drunk due to the amount of CipriVodkas I had consumed. This is a time when I feel mobile phones should really be banned from being used. I made a number of calls to people I don't really know a few of which were completely accidental just pressing buttons and calling a bit like a child. I didn't see much of Tori over the next couple of days. I did see England beat France however and make it to the Final of the world cup so I was very happy about that.
Now it's Monday and back to work this evening so I shall bid you all a fond farewell as I prepare myself for the imminent departure of one of those I hold closest to my heart. I'll report back after the Brazil game when I am pretty sure I will be a very lonely and probably hungry Harry. :ó(
Big Love and Samba
ЂἆƦȐΨ ح ӵḝ ḓ ۞ᵰ
