Se farinha fosse americana, mandioca importada

Hello, my fellow Americans.

*trumpets sound*

Guess who’s back.

Brazil trip number two was a success.
I graduated college.

That’s about it.

See ya’ll around…

Ho ho, dear friends, I had you fuckers going there. Now I may or may not have neglected the living christ out of this thing for the last few months, but hey, I was busy. But now, now free time is the Name of the proverbial Game. I’ve got an entire journal, written in various dark and mildewy bars and haunts across the vast Brazilian interior, ready to be typed up and posted to this bitch. Cover to cover, kids. Cover to cover.

Typing up such a monstrosity is probably not a good idea, in the moral or intellectual sense. But I’m gonna do it anyway. I’ll perform the necessary archeology, organize the various scribbled scraps of paper, and divine through the mists of time, booze, and terrible handwriting just what the hell I was talking about. For you.

I’d like to give you some sort of ETA for said masterpiece, but that just ain’t gonna happen. I break deadlines like Chuck Norris breaks buster ass fools, with moral authority and a quick fist. Hell I might even put pictures up, illustrate the god damn thing. An impetuous endeavor, no doubt, especially for one as easily distracted and horrendously overworked as Our Hero. Besides the whole Record of Our Trip thing, I’ve got several other side projects that I’ll be devoting my time to:

1) Starting a rap cover group to tour major South American cities. I’ll be performing under the stage name 50 (Cinquenta) Centavos, and my hetero lifemate Peter will be leaving his so called “career” to join me as O Jogo (The Game, for you monolingual degenerates). Watch for us in the spring of 06, our tour starts in Caracas.

2) Actively training for my debut as a contender for World Featherweight Boxing Champion. After seeing Wesley Snipes in the masterwork of boxing cinema titled “Undisputed”, my dream of stinging like a bee and floating like a butterfly was rekindled. I highly recommend everyone see this film, especially if you can find it in unintelligibly translated Portuguese, which is the way I enjoyed it. It’s delectable.

3) Searching desperately for gainful employment. Yeah yeah real life blah blah.

4) Stalking Sandra Bullock. SANDRA, OUR LOVE IS PURE. PLEASE CALL THE DOGS OFF.

5) Training and leading my Invincible Army of the Night. If you’re interested in stealthy and/or clandestine activities, can lift at least 50 pounds, and are at least this tall, pick up an application at the front desk. You’ll be required to provide your own matte black samurai armor, and we have no dental coverage or sick leave. However, you will get to shout, glare, assassinate, carry a grappling hook, and generally strike fear into the hearts of your enemies.

I’ve been awake for nearly 60 hours and traveled over 50,000 kilometers to be back here today. And here I am, typing into the great abyss just to let you suckers know what delights you’re in store for.

There’s a word for this, kids, and that word is love.

All that’s left is to pick a title.

hmm…

Holy Shit We’re Alive?
How about Brazil 2: Son of Brazil?
Brazilapalooza?
Chicken Soup for Your Balls?

The Lance Armstrong Story?
Those are probably all taken.

Submit your suggestions. I’m gonna go sleep for thirty hours. It’s good to be home, California.

Back in the Stack,
-T.

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One Response to “Se farinha fosse americana, mandioca importada”

  1. earthshinesheep Says:

    are you haystacking for real? we should hang out. where is that crazy jolene cat?

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