Grizzly Adams DID have a beard

I went to one of the Buenos Aires public parks a few days ago to try to get into a pick up soccer game.

Having been a relatively proficient soccer player through high school and most of college, I figured I could hang with the rough and tumble Argentine futbol crowd.. At least playing wise. Fighting wise, I was not so sure. Within the first 10 minutes some guy on my team had already punched the face of a guy on the other team. Possibly because the punchee had a more robust mullet working for him than the puncher. Regardless, the game was quite chippy and I was the only player with blond hair and shiny New Balances on his feet.

Also, a little thinking out loud: I think I need to take the posts down a notch. I have received several "does your mom read your blog??" type emails, and it would be ill-advised to lose my core audience of three. (Hi Mom, Granny and Grandpa). We'll see how this plays out.

In other news, I have left the friendly confines of my friends' apartment in Buenos Aires and flew up to the Iguazu Falls, one of the world's largest waterfalls. (Or as Denver Dave describes it, a counterclockwise rotating toilet bowl with above average force and neat mossy thingys). On the topic of Denver Dave, he has been staying at Jynx, Katie and Josh's apartment the entire time I have been there because he is homeless right now.

Also, I beat D. Dave and Josh in a contest among the girls of who they would rather be stuck in the woods with in a life or death situation. Josh came in last, but doesn't even know the contest took place. Dave would have preferred to come in last place, as he despises the element of silver. Regardless, I am currently wearing my Davey Crockett cap.

DeVito and Schwarzeneggers' Academy Award Slight, (NC-15).

A few things that have made my time in Buenos Aires very special:

1) Ice Cream
2) The bar that serves free beer between 6 and 8pm and again between 11 and 12pm. May they not go bankrupt before I leave.
3) Beating Denver Dave and Albany Josh at poker.
4) Twins

Last night my head nearly exploded with the amount of twinage in the house. I went with Jynx and Katie (my BA hosts, both from Denver) to a birthday party for my friends (Justin and Zack) who are male twins from Texas. Jynx is also a twin, however, her split seed is not present in Buenos Aires. This absence was made up for by the first two girls I met at the bar who were female twins from San Francisco. Each of which had formidable twins of their own. Denver Dave met up with us at 5AM with the female portion of twin siblings, the male component being his good friend. Dave ordered a double shot of love and wasn't a good friend to the male component. On the TV, the Minnesota Twins were playing a double header with the Angels who have one of the Molina Brothers. The Olsens were sitting on the third base line eating nothing and the Bush twins were on the first base line wasted.

Actually, upon further review, it could probably be substantiated that it was all imagined and I was seeing two of everything all night.

As the saying goes*.. Here's to being single, seeing double, and playing just the shaft.

*not my belief.

Count Chocula vs. Silly Rabbit

I have to admit, since I have been in Buenos Aires, I haven't done much. And it is AMAZING!

My hosts, Jynx, Josh and Katie have been overly hospitable, and are probably getting extremely sick of me. Hell, i am even getting sick of myself. To counterbalance this, I just buy copious boxes of cereal and they tend to forget that I have overstayed my welcome by about 8 calendar days.

Soon after I started crashing on the extra trundle bed at their apartment, another friend of theirs, Denver Dave, moved in to occupy the couch. Denver Dave is a recent college graduate from Bucknell, where he played tennis and excelled at making absurdly offbeat comments. He has carried his craft into present day, as he gave me a Chilean-like beatdown on the tennis court the other day, and contends that professional cereal eaters lose their pro-certification-card the instant they eat a chocolate based cereal. The debate burns on.

One of the touristy things I have done during my BA stay, was visit the grave of Evita Perron. (don't cry for me Argentina lady). She is laid to rest in one of the most spectacular cemeteries ever, as each person buried in the cemetary is given their own elaborately constructed and decorated house/tomb/crypt looking like one of Gaudi's spanish masterpieces. Apparently, only the massively rich or the famous are buried here. Madonna should have no problem.

To help ease the stomach

Bariloche, Argentina
Backside of a ski mountain in Bariloche: Frey
Frontside of a nerd
El Bolson, Argentina. Hippie Town. Went to Brewery.

Fiesta in my pantalones

I was extremely hesitant to post this blog, however, I weighed my options and deemed that the entertainment factor could be: high, risk of people remembering when I return to the states was hopefully: low and the moral of the story is: lock the door.

I have plagiarized the following passage from an email about a recent night out in Buenos Aires to my friend Malcolm Thomas, who is a good fellow.

(Start quote) I had a case of the $hits that i thought was seriously going to kill me. I was at a bar last night and obviously had to decimate the toilet, so i went to the bathroom, sat down and prepare to let loose. Then, three giggling chicks bust into the bathroom. I didn't know what to do, and had to go.. I definitely had a similar scene to the American Pie scene with the skinny dude. Apparently, the bathrooms are all unisex at the place. Awesome. The bar was cool though (an old mansion). (End quote).

We'll just tuck this post in the 'too much info' archive.

Extremely Serious P.S.. Not that I get very many comments on my postings, but I have received a few that have no return email addresses. If you are kind enough to write me (or if you just want to write me to tell me that I am a child molester, and kids and puppies should be hidden from me: reader response [Chilean Soup] 5/08/2006 02:13:19 AM), please add your email address so I can write back and give you 3 reasons why I am actually a upstanding citizen of the junior varsity bourgeois.

The first words of advice god dispells when you get to the pearly gates..

Don't ever let anyone ever tell you that south american water (or chinese food) provides a positive service to your digestive system.

When $hit hits the fan (or sidewalk).

A few years back, the Argentine Dollar crashed and the economy took a huge dump on the Argentine people. To return the favor, the Argentines now walk their dogs on the sidewalks and let them take huge dumps on the pavement without cleaning it up. I suppose it is their backhanded way of sticking it to the man. It is surprising and rather unsanitary to see the beautiful city of Buenos Aires heavily populated by these squishy rocks. It is to the point that they should substitute windshield washer people at stop lights with sneaker washer people equipped with elephant hoses at every third street corner. I hope a window washer reads this post to inform him or her that it's all about supply and demand, economies of scale and the dewey decimal system.

In sad news, I turned 25 years old last week. This age seems much older than 24, and in all honestly, this drives home the fact that this isn't a quarter life crisis at all, but more like a 33.3% life crisis, as my chances of getting to 100 are approximately equivalent to the chances of me going back in time and erasing the day I climbed into a hanging supermarket vegetable weigher and shattering it.

In happy news, we went to an '80's party for my b-day which boasted well over 103 disco balls suspended from the ceiling, really strong champagne and probably some other insanely neat things that I missed throughout the course of the evening. The bar was called Museo. This enterprise also puts the BA in balls.

Also, I would like to amend my comments on what a typical day in Buenos Aires is like. Before, I asserted that a typical day involved some spirits, betting on HI-HO Silver, fine dining and a 10PM bedtime. I was way off. Instead it is more like; go to a restaurant at midnight, go to a bar a 3AM, go to danceclub at 5AM and instead of betting on HI-HO Silver, you get to bet on a horse named Tyra Banks. Seriously. Her racing odds could only be described as over-rated .

We put the BA in balls

I went to visit friends of Kevin del Walker (now my friends too) in Buenos Aires, and my first 12 hours in BA provides a good snapshot of what the city is like.

My friends, Jynx, Josh and Katie (the aformentioned person who had a robber perform an emotionally hurtful act on her and her european carryall), live in a very nice apartment equipped with a couch, TV, large patio, some weird painting on an eisle taking up a high percentage of the living room and now all my $hit in the corner near the stairs.

I showed up after a 13 hour bus ride* at 9AM, looking like hell and feeling like 1 peso from the Tylenol PMs that never really kicked in. When I got there I woke Jynx up with their painfully intricate doorbell song and I finally met Jynx who had been my penpal for 8 months previously. (In case you were wondering, she isn't from Russia or China like every other penpal in the world... Dear Vladimir, I have a house, it is blue, my favorite food is pizza, but sometime i order sandwiches. Do you have a pet? I want a Giraffe but my mom won't buy me one. I am not talking to her. While I like russian salad dressing, I prefer ketchup. etc).

Jynx had a late night the evening before I arrived, so after deciding if she should let me in the apartment, she went back to bed which gave me an opportunity to nap on their couch while waiting for Josh to return from the previous night. He rolled in at 11:30AM. If I remember correctly, I think he was involved in a 24-hour sit-in protest in efforts to absolve seal clubbing.

Ok, sorry it took so long to get to my first 12 hours.

1:00pm- Went to brunch with Jynx and Josh. The brunch place offered Bagels. (BA quickly became my favorite world city).

1:07pm- Received my first alcoholic drink in BA. It was a Spicy Pepper Bloodymary. It was delicious.

2:00pm- The three of us decided that girly drinks were ok for one day, so we ordered cocktails that were bright green, mother of pearl and purple in color.

3:oopm- Left brunch place and acquainted ourselves with peanut butter & jelly sandwiches (peanut butter is, by far, the only thing i have contributed since I arrived).

5:00pm- Went to the horse track with Jynx, Josh and Shannon, a friend of theirs who actually went to Trinity. (In case you have been reading these posts and were wondering; I did go to college, where I received exemplary* marks) (* ). I bet on the #2 horse with 2,312:1 odds. I didn't win. Jynx won. Her horse's odds were pretty much 1:1. Josh lost his shirt (financially). Shannon kept her shirt on. We collectively all lost our cool when we learned the didn't serve beverages at the track.

5:30pm- Went to a restaurant named Kansas. It was an American establishment. We sat outside (taking turns straddling the portable heaters) and enjoyed food, spirits and laughs. Josh ordered tequila shots. This was enjoyed by no one.

9:30pm- Back at apartment laughing at an unusually high level when viewing "Not Another Teen Movie".

9:45pm- Stu asleep on Couch. Josh steals Stu's Rum and Coke.

Robber-barrons and Animals who look glum.

After having a robber wake me up by sticking his hand through the barred window in my hostel room attempting to steal some goodies, I decided it was time to depart Mendoza for the greener pastures of Buenos Aires (or BA for those of you who consider yourself hip, in touch or SO raven).

Before leaving Mendoza, I went to the Zoo, which provided a good way to spend an afternoon. My favorite exhibit was the Hampsters. (who sadly, had a comparably sized cage as one of the lions). I also felt kind of dirty after seeing two monkeys getting down to business. Panthers are now my favorite animal. Sorry Sharks.

I took another one of those overnight bus rides where you need to sleep with one eye open in order to maintain ownership of your camera (and also to freak out the non-thief passengers).

On my bus ride to BA, I learned that I don't know how to play Bingo anymore. We were given a bingo card with 4 rows and 4 columns (16 squares). Apparently I have been playing too much sudoku, because right away I had 3 numbers in one column and was anxiously awaiting the 16 number to be selected so I would have 4 in a row and could yell "BINGO" and collect my prize. Sure enough, #16 came a few numbers later and I winningly postulated, "BINGO!!" (averting every passengers' attention in my general direction as I stood up). Sadly, you need all sixteen numbers and thusly, no prizes followed. However, the bingo conductor DID give me a "you're a dumbass" look.

About 45 more numbers were read off before the Columbian lady, sitting right next to me, won. (I still maintain I won on a moral level). She flashed a beautiful smile as she accepted her bottle of red wine with the Busline label on it. Needless to say, I contemplated stealing it as I sulked in my seat.

Addendum- I hastily forgot to mention who the third party of the Costa Rica Toyota Rav4 sleeping incident was, and for this I am deeply sorry. Isabel, Keith's girlfriend, is the titleholder of the hotel on wheels and had, by far, the most uncomfortable sleeping position out of the three of us. Keith is such a bad boyfriend.

Bikes, Wines and Automobiles.. (and a boss)

I took a tour called 'Bikes and wine', which as you might guess, involves hopping on a bike and riding between 8 different vineyards, tasting wine the entire way. As you might also hypothesize, the ride back to the starting point was an eventful journey.

Whoever invented this tour is brilliant, as it is, by far, the most popular tour in Mendoza*. It was started 6 months ago, and the company's infancy must be the reason there have yet to be any 'car-hitting-bike' related casualties. The 10AM tour starts off at a shack with a 14 year old boy giving you a bike and a map the size of a business card. He then points in a northerly direction, tells you to be back by 6pm, and off you go to negotiate the skinny roads, oncoming traffic and gallons of fermented fruits.

The first few Vineyards included manufactures of wine, hard liquor and booze laced chocolates, and then we proceeded to an Olive Oil Vineyard to have lunch and a bottle of wine per person. This was followed by 5 kilometers of bike riding between the next 4 Vineyards, and then a massive 10 Kilometer stretch back to the shack, which, due to an afternoon changing of the guards, was attended by a 90 year old man with minimal need for a toothbrush.

Other than my chain getting jammed on the ride back in front of an enclosed property with three Rottweilers on the other side of the fence taking turns attacking the fence trying to tear my inebriated body apart, the day was fun, safe and full of last year's grapes.

*A related note: My sophomore year in College I lived with Blahvi, Eric and Keith. Keith lived in Mendoza, Argentina for 6 months, and ditched no cabs during his stay, and fell in AT LEAST 2 gutters during his time there. It's impossible not to.

Anyway, before my trip to South America, I visited Keith in San Jose, Costa Rica, where he teaches American History at the American School in Central America. Keith is American (Although you may not know it with the amount of hair he has on his cuerpo (body)), and when I was down there, Keith entered us in an American Flag Football Tournament, which we eventually won, partially because we were American, and mostly because of a fellow named Jared, who played college football and could throw that speedball by ya, make you look like a fool. Saw him that night at this roadside bar, Keith and I were walking in he was walking out, We went back inside, sat down, had a few drinks, But all we kept talking about.. Glory Days (and Jared), yeah they'll pass you by.. Glory Days, in the wink of a young girl's eye Glory Days, glory days..

We also talked about how fun it would be to sleep in a Toyota Rav4 with three people after playing flag football for 6 hours, driving for 3 hrs, and beach partying for 4 hrs.. Surprisingly, this is the antithesis of fun.

Where is Bruce Springsteen from??

Prelude to the World Cup 2006.

Mendoza, Argentina lies east of the Andes Mountain range and boasts beautiful women, insanely deep street gutters and a plethora of young people just wanting to get drunk and make some bad decisions.

I honestly can't get over the depth of the gutters. They run along both sides of the street and are between 3 and 6 feet deep, just waiting for the drunk decision makers to plummet to the bottom of them.

The first day in Mendoza I participated in Repelling and Canopying, both activities that require very tight harnesses and tighter wedgies. Uncomfortable as it was, the activities proved to be quite fun, and I was even able to fly like superman for 400 meters over a lake. Sadly, I wasn't wearing my superman underwear from 2nd grade. If worn today, these would probably cause a comparable wedgie to the harnesses (or harnessi).

After the activities, two English friends, one Dutch friend and myself were challenged to a soccer game by 4 Argentineans in the parking lot. After 1 minute the score was 1-1. In the 15th minute I was professionally slide tackled and I now have rock lodged in the palm of my hand. After 20 minutes we were stalemated at 5-1. The final result was the Argenineans winning on a last minute golden goal, 8-1.

Between the U.S., England, Holland and Argentina, I am certain the U.S. will prevail in the world cup. And by prevail I mean have snazzy uniforms.

Q: What does president Bush think of Roe vs. Wade??

Having been beaten to a pulp in pretty much every activity I participated in during my stay in Santiago, I have moved back across the border to Mendoza, Argentina. My defeats included but were not limited to Tennis (table 2-3, and real 0-2), Soccer (real 0-1, foosball 0-6), hitting wierd bouncy feathered thing back and forth with hands (1-4), Golf chipping contest into a bucket* (1-5), Locating the Great Wall of China (0-1), catching thieves and lecturing them on their unethical craft (0-1) and art shows (0-1).

This is all a wash however, as I located American Peanut Butter. I will probably name my first child (girl or boy) Jif.

Santiago was a blast, and from there I took a bus over the Andes, which is scary as hell because you drive on the side of 16,000 foot mountains on essentially one lane roads with nothing but a tin guard rail between you and a several thousand foot drop. I was heavily engrossed in the "Transporter 2", so I didn't mind.

*My friends and I play a variation of this golf target game in Cape Elizabeth, Maine at the Poole Family Cottage. However, instead of a bucket we use a chair. With a person in it.

A: He doesn't care how you got out of New Orleans just as long as you got out..

Excuse me while my friend performs an emotionally hurtful act

A few days ago I met up with a friend of a friend of a friend (now just a friend) for lunch in Downtown Santiago. Katie was in Santiago for two weeks taking spanish classes, and at the time of our rendevoux, had not been overly impressed with the City. Our lunch did little to change her mind.

We settled on an outdoor dining establishment after discovering that the all you can eat pizza place was closed. Strike 1. As we were having a nice lunch and figuring out how many degrees of friendship separation there was between us, a male in his early 30's (we'll call him Player A) interrupted our conversation and inquired if we spoke German. I have been mistaken to do a lot of things in my life, but german fluency is not one of them. I found this to be rather odd.

[To preface this: When I sat down at the lunch table, I firmly placed my backpack between my feet and noticed Katie's bag was by her side facing the interior of the restaurant, providing satisfactory safety. Strike 2.]

What we didn't expect was an amigo of Player A (we'll call him Peter), sped walked through the restaurant as Player A was asking us his asinine question, and snatched Katie's bag lying right next to her. He was gone before we had a chance to inform Player A that we didn't want any German Sausage and that we could communicate with him. Strike 3.

Even more unfortunate, we didn't notice her purse had been stolen until we were finished eating 45 minutes later. Upon looking under the table and chairs about 8 times, we searched area waste baskets to see if the Ladrone (thief) had taken her wallet and Ipod and left her spanish notes, which was the stolen item that frustrated Katie the most. Our search efforts came up empty.

Speaking of Baseball, I have a Darryl Strawberry Autograph. I wonder if he remembers when my parents interrupted him for it when riding in an elevator. I wonder if he remembers anything.

San-Ti-Ago.. Spanish for Whale's Boob.

Since my return to the bustling metropolis of Santiago and the Arniboldi's family home, I have appreciated the finer aspects of non-hostel life. Like a shower without Athlete's Foot visibly evidenced on the floor, sleeping with more than 3 feet between me and the most proximate slumberer, hot water, food cooked by someone not named Stu, transportation in passenger vehicles and not death traps (South American Buses), sober people, and most obviously, Pedro, the 15-year old Arniboldi.

When I arrived to the house after a 14 hour bus ride, 30 minute train ride and a 45 minute bus ride, I was greeted with a big hug and "stupid gringo" comment from Pedro, who was still in his Pajamas. It was 11AM on a school day. Pedro decided school could wait, as he was feeling a little bit under the weather. I maintain that he stayed home to make sure I arrived safely. He denies this with the fiery spirit of a Gnome. Like Trauco.

As previously mentioned back in March, Pedro is a great kid and rather funny. His classmates would agree with this assessment as they have voted him "the best friend" superlative at school two years running... Until this year when Pedro's best friend took over the honor, and thusly delegating Pedro to second or third best friend. When pressed on his feelings toward his friend's theivery, "stupid asshole" was the first phrase out of his mouth, followed by; "we are no longer friends."

This was followed by Pedro and I looking for the Great Wall of China on Google Earth for over 1 hour. You would think this would be an easy landmark to find. You would be wrong. On the bright side, I finally know where Mongolia is.

I don't use the phrase "TOO handsome" often, but...

Who ever said I don't like dogs...? (or ice)

Part 2 of the series that has 2 parts

From the rapidly expanding town of Calafate, I flew to Bariloche, Argentina (in a plane) to eat food. I Met friends of friends there, kicked Little Orphan Anne's tush in Ping Pong. Gloated. Soon after, she tore her ACL or some other part of her body. Soon after that, I took a moment to appreciate the fact that I purchased extra healthcare insurance that covers extreme sports. (We have lost a lot of good men out there during ping pong matches). Saw Olga (the bubbling blister) for second and third time. Smiled gleefully when I saw her starting out a 4 day hike. Pretty sure the people she hiked with were not smiling at the end of the hike. Waited 1 hour to buy 5 pieces of chocolate at the Mamushka Store. Went next door and bought $30 worth of chocolate in 3 minutes (for my Santiago Family. not me. perhaps). Rented car with friends, went to hippie town, drank beer, found out the meaning of Celiac (alergic to wheat). Drank Celiac's beer. Nearly threw up. Back in Bariloche, I hungout with the guy who invented the License Plate bags and accessories. His name is Jorge.
Went out until 7AM, caught 10AM bus. I now urge everyone to use the phrase "Do I give you Horn??" instead of "Do I make you Horny??". (assuming anyone actually uses this phrase in the first place).

Bus dropped me and my two medical student friends off in San Martin de los Andes (Smandes), where we rented a Suzuki "Fun". This car barely fit three people, but it lived up to its billing and we drove it to a waterfall. I shaved my beard into a Goatee and looked like a tool. I then shaved my goatee into a mustache and looked like a criminal. I then shaved my mustache and threw on some orange overalls and rabbit ears. I have never looked better. It started raining. This became the general theme for the next week.

Took 6AM bus to Volcano town (Pucon) and checked into the best hostel in the world (And by best I mean worst, and by world I mean world). Feasted in the hot springs with my Israeli comrades and shared my cereal the next morning before attempt #1 to hike the Volcano. Four attempts later, I threw on a nice pastel suit and climbed like a Sherpa-in-training. Was nearly asphyxiated by the sulfur emitting from the top of the volcano, and then we slid down the mountian, which produced 5 of the most giddy 25-40 year old grown men you have ever seen. Went back to hostel, struggled with the directions to take a shower and left the next day to Validivia to watch the rain, Sportscenter and see the Portland Sea Dogs dominate the Valdivia Fish Vendors.

Chiloe was next stop. The second day there, I spent 5 hours on a bus for 1 hour and 15 minutes at a national park. I met James Bond, and two French girls who were not rude to Americans and we went to see Penguins with a boat captain who was rude to one American in particular. I Left the beautiful Island of Chiloe to my last stop off point in Puerto Varas, where I fished (poorly), gambled (poorly) and spoke spanish (guess how).

A 14 hour bus ride later and two ass whoopings on the tenis court by the mom (She took me 6-4, 6-4 today*), I am still kicking.. Although my stomach feels like hell and I hope I didn't speak too soon on the giardia front.

*Ana, the mother, has found my weakspot on the tenis court (aside from my back hand, 1st serve %, my dinky second serve, volleys, an most other tenis related terms), which is the "lobo" (or lob). She will just pop the lob up there confident that I will smash it as hard as I can several inches below the top of the net.

Reiteration of things reiterated during the retelling of a story

In the last six weeks I have slept in 19 different beds, shared dormitory style bedrooms with over 86 people and slept over 8 hours approximately once. (I had a niner). Needless to say, I was happy to get back to my Santiago Family's house, wash my clothes and get abused on the tenis court by the mom. She's a gamer.

My patagonia trip was extremely successful as I accomplished everything I set out to do and I even found a new love of my life (other than Olga). The mildly lucky girl is named Sahne. She's a giver. Costly at times, but well worth the economic output.

(Part 1 of a 2 part series) My trip in a 30 second recap:
Went hiking in Torres Del Paines with the Kitty* of backpacks, nearly dropped a nut trying to carry Kitty, stepped in horse poo (plural), met Hurricane Olga, ate too many wheat based products, smelled like rotting fish, saw the Towers at sunrise, smiled gleefully, and hightailed it out of the park. Didn't get giardia, giving way to additional gleeful smile.

Rented a car and drove to the bottom of the world (Ushuaia), where we got a nice apartment and planned a party. No one showed up. Tim and Ryan returned to their respective countries, and for the first time, I was on my own. To combat this loneliness, I went to the most remote and untravelled islands in Chile, partially because they had a Bar on sunken ship and mostly because they had beavers with unstoppable work ethics. Hiked 8 hours in one day, got lost, walked in dark, it rained, fell in puddle, Boat Bar was closed when I got back into town. Became noticably aggrevated. Got stranded on this Island for 3 days, met Sahne for the first time, and paid an absurd amount of money for the dingy ride back to Ushuaia. Back at the faux bottom of the world I had my first taste of Hostel Life, and it tasted like shit, as I had some legendary snorers who, like the beavers, were diligent in their craft. Saw 500 year time capsule. Took picture of 500 year time capsule. Returned to 500 year time capsule, to confirm that someone actually put together 500 year time capsule.

Flew to Calafate, Argentina (in a plane) to see a glacier from a boat. Witnessed the happiest person on a the face of the earth: 65 year old german man on the boat drinking scotch at 10AM with glacier ice in his glass. I believe he enjoyed 3 of them. The boat ride was 35 minutes long. Went back to Calafate, which had 3,000 people living there in 1999. Now they have 12,000. They expect 50,000 by 2016. They are rabbits.

Travels from Bariloche to Chiloe "Manana" (spanish for.. actually, if you don't know what Manana means, please contact Blahvi so he can take a taxi to your house and gently hit you over the head with a taxi cab medallion that he probably stole).

*Kitty was our morbidly obese cat from 1985-2000 who had no tail, limited fur on her butt, a belly that shook like a bowl full of jelly (assuming the bowl was on the ground) and 22 pounds on her sleek frame. The average cat weighs 7-12 pounds. Kitty was a gamer though, and was certainly chill with me.

Yo soy Fort Knox.

The last stop on Stu's "Tour De Patagonia" is Puerto Varas, a lake town with more Germans than Chileans, and a Casino that takes up about 1/4 of the town. And while I have yet to take advantage of the fine German hospitality, I have been aggressively taken advantage of by the Casino. I have dutifully done my part to assist in the funding of the Casino's new wing. Puerto Varas is as expensive as it gets in Chile, highlighted by a Sahne Nuss costing $4.55 USD. I bought 3.

In my mountain of a backpack, I realized I still had my extender fishing rod in pristine and unused condition, so I decided to take it for a spin today on the clear waters of Lago Llanquihue. My first cast went 4 feet. The Second, 8 ft. Third, got stuck on a rusty metal wire sticking out from the damaged pier, and that was the end of my fishing excursion as my $4 USD fishing kit only came with one lure. This was ok with me though, as I don't really like fishing at all. My friends from Maine are well aware of my dissatisfaction with this activity. Any day of the week, I would prefer to watch highlights of the World Strongest Man competition: the Muscle Tear edition.

At this moment, I eagerly await a 14 hour bus ride back to Santiago. This is the same bus route that two Austrians had their $4,000 camera stolen and Jimmy from Scotland had his digital camera stolen. The ladrones (thieves) wait until the tourists fall asleep and then rummage through all of their belongings. Needless to say, I anticipate an uncomfortable trip, as I will be sitting directly upon my Nikon Coolpix 4600 for a better part of 12 hours. I may even swallow the memory chip.

ps. Outside of cartoons, do Anvils even exist?

Permission to come aboard Captain Stubing..?

Against all odds, Chiloe was sunny for two days in a row. Perhaps it was Jamie, a Scotish guy I met in Chiloe, who provided the Leprecon's good luck. Jamie, or 'JimmyJimmyJimmy' as called by the Hostel Ladies, was a pure bred Scot, who was never at a shortage for Scotish proverbs and generally reminded me of Sean Connery. His email address of jimrat007@aheavilyusedwebbasedemailservice.com did nothing to sway my argument.

JimmyJimmyJimmy and I met two French girls (who had not been knocked up by Trauco), and the 4 of us made plans to visit the local Penguin sanctuary. Since it is the offseason, no full service tours were leaving from the town, so we hired a taxi* to drive us there, wait for us for 2+ hours and drive us back, all for $30 USD. (In Boston, this taxi ride would cost the same as a months rent payment (assuming your rent is $1,000)/150 nights at Hostel Del Lago/1,000 tubes of chapstick, etc).

We hopped into the Chevrolet Corsa GL (sedan/4 Cyl./6" clearance/100 lb. payload) and drove 45 minutes on roads where Jeep Cherokees and Land Rovers are advisable. At one point, we forged a river, having water seep in through the doors, and drove along a rocky beach, hearing rocks strip what I assume were essential components to the car's operation. Our trip alone must have caused $150 in shock and strut damage.

The Penguins were apparently quite content in their Rookeries that day, as we saw only 3 of them. We did however see two Sea Otters, and 1 Boat captain who liked my French and Scotish compadres, but not me. In addition to being a Gringo, he really took offense to me standing in the boat at one point, and that was the straw that broke the camels back between the skipper and I. As we were leaving, he did the requisite kiss on the cheek with the two French Girls and he embraced Jimmy with a big bear hug. Instead of physical affection for me, he chose to say "Adios Gringo feo". Which means any of the following; "Goodbye bad American," "Goodbye nasty American," or "Goodbye ugly American". I can't totally understand the last one, as I had at least twice as many teeth as he.

*Speaking of taxi's: My college roommate doesn't like paying for them. For the purpose of protecting his identity, I have chosen a pseudonym. Let's call him "Blahvi". One humid evening in DC, Blahvi and his friends pulled the "ride and fly" (or "cab ditch") where typically drunk idiots sprint away from the cab once it stops, leaving the Cabbie with no money. Well, Blahvi did this in his inebriated state and started running away from the cab. Unfortunately, he ran in the same direction as traffic, and the taxi driver pulled up next to him as he was running, and said "what are you doing?? pay me my money". Blahvi wouldn't yield however, adding "stop following me!" as he continued running in a parallel direction with the cab right next to him.. He is now top of his class at Blaw School.

The story is better if you know Blahvi.