Ordem e Preguiça: Rio’s Legacy On A Dweez

Order.

What is this, my first sloth in 2 months?

Sloth me.
Sloth on over here and help me out.
What the sloth?
Fuck these sloths.

I got slothed over tonight.

Pathetic sloth.
Precious sloth.

Eeking up trees
Life on
E.

Sloth head.

Melon faced sloth.
Burping smiles all bubbled off Skol.

Is that a slotherhouse?

Little bandit sloth stealin’ up all my time.
Robbing urges.

That’s a real sloth slapper.

Crispy fur.
Ya hiding anything under that fur?

Betcha are.
Hope ya are.

I work at a Slothel.
Slothing everyone. All the time.
12 hrs for the price of 6.

There’s no business like Sloth business.

Sloth yourself.
One, hairy, three-toed sloth at a time.

Progress.



Made in Sloth

AS MOST OF YOU

are probably aware, Alex and I have left the land of juice bars and sand bars to return to the land of milkshakes and handshakes.

I am shocked, culturally.

A few nights ago, I was introduced to a girl at a bar. I went for the double cheek-kiss as her extended hand nearly jabbed my lung. Oh yea, we shake hands. I forgot how cold we are.

I also forgot how cold we are--in the literal sense. I wanted to give my new Havaianas sandals a whirl, but the only whirl was that of freezing wind that instantly incapacitated my feet. So much for all the tank-tops I bought.

Also so much for all the new tank-tops I bought--those being the cannons of miniature model tanks I bought from a Brazilian military enthusiast. No, I'm just kidding. I don't even think you can find those separate from the whole tank.

At any rate, I am readapting to the culture that I once knew exclusively.

Perhaps the most comforting experience thus far has come in the form of an efficient errand. Alex and I returned just one day before our grandmother's 80th birthday. Our gift? A framed collage of pictures we'd taken in Brazil, co-starring other family members that had visited us. So, we decided to devote an afternoon to this project. We started by ordering lunch...online. Sandwiches from Bay Cities Italian Deli on Lincoln. Point. Click. Point. Click. Ready in a half an hour. Next stop: Fed-Ex Kinkos on Wilshire. 15 minutes on the parking meter. We put in the USB flash drive into the Sony picture printer and out falls one $4.99 8"x10" photo, with 9 minutes left on the meter. Next stop: Joann Fabrics (isn't fabric already pluralized?). One frame--also $4.99. We picked up our sandwiches and returned back to the house within an hour.

Kissing, sweating and waiting are only a few of the cultural skins that I've had to shed since I got back. I'm sure more will emerge, in true awkward form. Until then, I guess I will just have to be keepin it Rio--in California.

Brasil, Brasil (a poem)

Brasil, Brasil. You keep me on my toes
The three o'clock rains and the Glória hos
You stole my heart like you stole my phone
Brasil, Brasil. You keep me on my toes

Tchau Carnaval

Yes my friends, Carnaval is sadly over; which means summer is over, which means school has begun, which means university initiations have begun, which means paint-covered freshmen have taken to the streets, which means...well, yikes.

If you are wondering why there hasn't been a blog post in over 2 weeks, perhaps this answers your questions:

A 3-week cerveja/bloco binge takes a toll on you. But would I do it all again?