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Published: January 16th 2013
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That's what hat's are for.
We stopped at this beach to eat a rum ham. We knew our trip was going to be amazing when the taxi driver to the airport blasted my nostrils with a nasty fart and tried to cover it up by turning up the radio. Pretty sure those are different senses. The first thing we did in Uruguay was go to both of Maria’s family’s two enormous farms in gaucho/cowboy country. The first one we slept in a hundred and something year old house built by her great great grandfather or something, the second was more modern and the countryside much hillier. The first was called El Tigre, the second Batovi which is an indigenous word for indian’s titty. It was great because in the daytime we played with the young cousins while the adults worked and cooked, but at night we got to drink wine with the adults. Living the dream. Our farm existence was filled mostly with riding horses around, chasing pregnant cows back to the house, getting angry bulls away from high traffic areas, hunting wild ostriches (not kidding) and armadillos, and branding the hell out of the calves. We City Slickered the hell out of the place. They killed and cooked a lamb a day the whole time
Cabo Polonio
They had these weird Lorax trees. we were at the farm which sounds amazing but dead “you saw it alive just moments ago” baby lamb isn’t the dream you might think if you’ve grown up pretending your meat came from something not alive and adorable. Uruguayans remind me of the McPoyles from Always Sunny because they were constantly offering me glasses of warm milk. The nice thing about horses farting so much when you’re on them is that you can quite easily slip a few in there unnoticed, there’s no radio to cover the smell though. Maria’s very conservative family allowed us to sleep in the same room but in separate single beds and always with a giant picture of Jesus mounted between us keeping a close eye on any premarital shenanigans. At one of the farm houses the pope stood in for Jesus, but not old Emperor Palpatine Pope, but rather John Paul the II, and the young handsome incarnation seen in the photo below. After the farm we went to Montevideo. Some fun things we did in Montevideo: unknowingly sat and rested in a murder scene (two hours after said murder), took a three hour beachfront stroll at midnight since taxis apparently don’t pick
up strangers, found and returned a lost cell phone to a gutter punk, saw a man run out of a house with the alarm going off (carrying a bike still attached by chain to the bike stand) jump an electric fence and ride off on his own bike, and ran into some Korean anti whitey sentiment. We were prevented from eating at Montevideo’s only Korean restaurant by an gang of bad toothed Korean men who told us they don’t serve whites. We were going to pull a Woolworths on them but for fear of having the crap taekwondoed out of us. That really happened btw, turns out the Uruguayan Koreans treat whiteys like normal Koreans treat black people. I never understood what Dre went through in Seoul until now. After Montevideo we went to the beach with the other half of the family. On the way there we stopped by Maria’s grandpa’s grave and found an abandoned puppy sitting on it. The family quickly adopted her of course. If I had a dog shelter I’d train the dogs to lay patiently on frequently visited graves. Adoption rates would skyrocket. We spent the last week in Uruguay’s main tourist attraction, the
beaches of Punta Del Este. It was awesome, we escaped the terrifying carnavale of death that is driving with Maria’s dad and relaxed on some amazing beaches with her cousins. Cabo Polonio was amazing and I can see why people go to visit and return six months later after being sucked into their hippy dream. We sat on the beach as people brought us dirt cheap jars of sangria and caipirinhas. It was amazing. You have to take these giant two story dune buggy trucks in to get past the dunes and a parking attendant alerted to the no dogs policy so we could sneak ours in, in a purse. I learned several new vulgar phrases in Uruguayan Spanish which I thought merited sharing:
Estas cagando mi vida. Literal translation – You’re shitting on my life. This was used liberally while playing Catan with the younguns.
Lava tus tetas. Literal translation – Go wash your tits. Seems insulting but is really just good hygiene advice.
Tu culo me recuerda de dos mulitas luchando debajo de una sabana. Literal translation - Your butt looks like two armadillos fighting under a blanket. – What passes for flirting on the
Punta Del Este
On the boat to the island. farm.
Cara de culo. - Ass face. Used more like stink eye, or dirty look than we use ass face. She gave me ass face when I walked in the room.
Anyways, Uruguay was amazing. Immediately on returning we booked an all inclusive long weekend in San Andres for Carnivale and two weeks in Aruba and Curacao. It's going to be a rough three weeks getting to that next vacation though.
Movie: Dredd was awesome. I really liked Searching for Sugarman as well.
Album: Saul Daddy got me hooked on First Aid Kit’s album. I like to imagine they are some sort of surprise but the million youtube hits tells me this is something everyone is already aware of.
Youtube Clip: I found the invisible driver prank (google it) quite amusing.
Book: I found this old Pan Am travel guide (1973) book for Latin America in Maria's grandmother's garage. It's quite entertaining reading the discussions of what endangered animals you can hunt where and what countries you will get arreseted for using birth control in.
Still Amazing,
Mr. T
Couldn’t find my chapstick for like
a minute and my initial instinct was that one of my Mexican neighbors broke into my place and stole it. ~ Jim Hamilton. This is how I feel about having a maid.
If you’re an accountant named Clifford and you haven’t named your business Fiscal Cliff there’s nothing I can do for you. ~ Mike Drucker
Taking pictures with an ipad is the new fanny pack. ~ Clarke Kent
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Raymond
non-member comment
Really great Doc! Rollin!
Always miss you bro.