Friday, June 14, 2019

Brasilia Partido Um

Mom was not happy.

"Are you really going to be gone for so long?"

"Yes, Mom. But I'll be back before you know it."

Mom sighed sighlorously. "Okay. You'll have a good time, I suppose."

"I suppose."

"I don't always appreciate your sense of humor, Greg, but I recognize that others seem to think you are funny. So I'm sure they'll like having you down there."

"Thanks, Mom. Always nice to hear from a fan."

And with that I was released to spread caipirinha-fueled mayhem south of the borders. My flight left the first world art installation known as "The Affluent Society" and I landed in Sao Paulo with my winter jacket, my kevlar jacket, and NASA toilet robot that made sure the water was flushed in the proper, American direction.

It turned out I only needed the shitter doodad as the winter and kevlar apparel was not needed--no snowflakes and no zombies, alas(?).

My hotel room had a breathtaking view, being on the 2400th floor.

The elevator to the lobby takes an hour. 
And be sure to stow your personal items.

I sent Mom the above photo and she thought it was a view from my "high-class" hotel. I hope most of you appreciate my sense of humor because not everyone thinks I'm so amusing.

Here's a view from my ninth floor apartment. It took all my strength of will not to fling myself off the balcony.

"Wait. The world needs laughter..."

I quickly discovered that my English degree was inutile. Turns out Brazilians have a different word for everything down here! So I had to do a lot of pointing at my mouth and my anus to get the befuddled street person to understand I wanted/needed a weiner. But I'm getting my revenge in this blog. I mean, a sticker on a pole said HIT ME OFF. What does that mean?!?! And, hey, get a load of the English in my room service brochure, ha ha--

"Good advice!"
(BURN)

After eating my weight in pupucainho and taixezulolos, I sauntered to the nearby mall to check in on my business. They told me to vamamos con dios, cabellero.

"My money's no good there. But maybe if I write a check?"

Saturday night was the big party for Cinira, who was turning an indeterminate age. My brothero (brother) Chris was there to smooth the way with japes and jests, conveniently being ridiculous in two languages. 

A Hello Doggie themed party 

For a while it seemed I was going to have to sleep in my own urine. Admittedly, not for the first time, but still. 

Chris: "It says don't piss on the floor."
Me: "This place is no fun."
Chris: "And don't forget to put your dirty shit paper in the trash."
Me: "Now we're having a festa!"

At least the local bookstore had a wide variety of reading material.

"I wonder if I can color in them?"

I don't know if I'm going to survive this trip. I can't go on. I must go on.

*inhales deeply* Ahhh, that's the stuff.

NEXT WEEK: More Brazilian tales told by an ijdiotarinho!

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