The Integral Screw

Everybody has questions about our trip to Brazil! Everybody from my dermatologist to my mom to my friends to my “friends.” Case in point:

so how much brazilian cock did you get?
be honest.
it tastes like the salt cod, no?
bacalhau!
i’d eat the fuck outta some bacalhau.
homo.

I know Left Hook and I have a reputation. We’re “glamorous,” we’re “rock stars,” etc. You probably imagined us fending off kisses in São Paulo samba clubs and getting murdered in Rio. Stuff like that!

Truth is, we spent much of our time in Brazil riding around in a van full of octogenarians.

[This is a dramatization. Our traveling companions were way better-looking.]

It turns out that when you spend that much time with men in their 80s, you inevitably end up discussing which one is the hottest. (Easy: Uncle wins!) And then you are disgusted with yourselves. But hey, at least he’s not my uncle!

Anyway. What delightful people Left Hook’s relatives are! And luckily, nobody called me out for being the creepy lurker at their family reunion. Instead, they paid for all my meals and lodging. Lefty’s father even gave me pocket money. So make that a creepy freeloading lurker. Sigh. I am a terrible person.

Our companions, who are remarkably spry for their ages (nice genes, Lefty!), had us running all over the place. We were way too exhausted for nightlife! But our days yielded plenty of marvels.

Strange plants!

Cute animals!

(That’s a tiny monkey!)

And funny English galore!

Some other high points of that category:

• on a drinks menu, a WHISK section
• pasta translated as INTEGRAL SCREW
• beneath a picture of a piece of sushi, THE FATTEST TUNA

I wanted to take a picture of the last one, but we were so sketched out by the waiter, we scampered right out when we were finished. He tried to upsell us when we ordered beers–bitches be charging ridiculous prices for Japanese beer, what–and it was sneaky, the way he did it. Maybe a little desperate? He had a squirrelly rock-bottom look, like an addict who has sunk to the petty-thiefdom stage. It gave us the heebie-jeebies.

Rio is weird that way. Beautiful and sinister, but sometimes just seedy like the Jersey Shore.

…

For me, the absolute highlight of the trip for me was the drive from São Paulo to Rio. It took five or six hours. There were hills so green they hurt my eyes, and skinny cows, and white horses with black birds on their backs. Closer to the city, exotic graffiti, soccer fields, favelas. My Device was picking such good songs that I wanted to make out with it.

It was one of those Moments you only have when you’re traveling. Suddenly, my whole life made sense to me! When I get home, I thought, I’ll learn to speak Portuguese. And Spanish. And French. And all the languages of the world. I’ll spend the rest of my days staring into other people’s beautiful, fascinating faces. I’ll get a dog and name him Happy.

Ya know?

Lucky for you, I have created a VIRTUAL REALITY version of that drive.

by Pistol Whip | 30 August 2007 | remember when | Comments