BBQ at Juan´s, Buenos Aires
06/07/10
While writing this post, four of my fingers were down to help me, while my thumbs were opposed. Bad joke? Give me a break, I wrote this after only a couple hours of sleep after having my hair straightened for the first time in my life by Boxie-boo. Having little exercise, no weight lifting and glowing hair that would have been better suited for a golden retriever, this trip left me no more masculine than a man forced to sell nail polish.
After receiving our Brazilian Visas downtown, I was so stoked I wanted to tango dance with consulate employees. It was a brutal experience, worse than the travel runs, to get our Brazilian Visas. It took us three offices in three countries, seven consulate office visits, at least a dozen emails, 10 phone calls, five headaches and 37 curse words. I was so thrilled, I smiled at the security guard with an enthusiasm normally reserved for the discovery of a hot dog stand when I hammered, but without the urge to examine his buns. Speaking of weiners…
I never thought I would say this about another mang, but Juan had one hell of a sausage.
Juan had us over for a family BBQ that included multiple types of meat, but mostly importantly, the best chorizo I have ever tasted. Boxie-boo knew I was in sensory overload, mid bite, by the look on my face - the same look, I imagine, I had on my face the first time I saw bikini: Eyes drawn in with a confused look normally reserved for a simple math problem, while hypnotized, with an inability to communicate beyond wetting my lips and swallowing.
Icarumba! What a meal!
It was just what we needed - an evening spent with beer, great food and amazing people.
That´s all for now.
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