Brasil

Five weeks in Brasil……..My observations, revelations and discoveries.


I am really tall.This one boy talked to my crotch all night and he wasn’t being crude, in fact he was a perfect gentleman. He slow danced with my crotch and even offered to buy it a drink.

Brazilian men are just boys with hairy chests. Our friend Vinni has a jungle under his shirt and if you put your head on his chest, you can hear the elephants.

Men drive small cars. But I hear they don’t have anything to compensate for. Unfortunately I am not speaking from experience.

Women like to bare their midriffs. They believe in the “if you’ve got it flaunt thing.” Even the ones who don’t got it.

Everyone has tattoos. So you have to have real scars like 300 stitches to be considered a bad ass.

I am the only Indian in Sao Paulo. But they still expect me to speak Portuguese.

Futbol is a religion. I am slowly being converted.

The graffiti beats any museum I have been to. Plus you don’t have to pay 20 something to appreciate art you just look outside your window.

Toga parties aren’t a good idea. Yup people were a no show but luckily we have enough alcohol left over to drown our “ no one likes us” sorrows. I have been drunk for fifteen days.

Breaking into an apartment building is easy. I may not need another loan.

The uglier the clothes, the more expensive. Like seriously, fluorescent polka dots doing the polka, R$ 5000.

You can’t buy a bikini bottom that covers your ass. So you must have a nice ass, high self-esteem or a man that loves you "just the way you are."

Brazilian men ARE hot. It is not a myth.

You can do the samba during work.

You can also tie someone to their chair but not naked or anything.

Tug of war may cause extreme rope burn. So while you guys gather around the water fountain, we play tug-o-war! Ha!


TO BE CONTINUED......