Friday, May 6, 2011
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Weon fuego!
I left Cristobals choripan party early. Choripan has to be worlds simpliest format of servin barbequed pan and sausage and call it a name. Nonetheless, spicy sausage and especially pebre makes this combo easily worth of having. Still, at the hour of midnight I started pedaling towards home slowly through dark citys emptyish streets. Ended up mingling headlessly around while wandering rearly tranquil Santiago. Doing sorryass bunnyhops over cracks on the street and having trackstand practises while watching kids playing football -no. North American excuse for christian males having gay relationships while wearing tights and helmets is not football. It's just.. Christian males having gay relationships with a excuse of a sport, while wearing tights and helmets- at the dusky street. In a while I noticed that I had come a bit too south to feel comfortable. Either because I am a chicken, or because I respect the charasteristics of the city I am visiting, I took next avenida heading up north.
Somewhere at av. 10 de julio Huamachucko, between Portugal and Carmen I was riding empty oneway against the non existing traffic slowly while smoking cigarette. I did not realize a woman who gestured me from the sidewalk. Not before she yelled something from what I only understood "weon" and "fuego". Meaning.. Well, meaning of weon you have to come here to figure out while fuego stands fo fire. I turned around and fronted a thirtyish woman wearing something less than g-strings and a corset while I was packed in with winter tights, shorts, and heavy hoodie in late autumn night with some +9c. It took a second to see the picture, but as she nestled my hand which was still holding the ignated Zippo against her bosom for so long that other two harlots reached us lefted little to guess even for a small town boy like I. The hole episode of lighting three cigarettes took atleast two minutes, and ladies seemed to have lot of droll at my expense while I tried to use my very limited spanish to clear up my intentions to go straigth to my bed without getting in any other bed before it. While I cannot be without thinking the ruthlessity of the work of these women, Santiago sended me to ride home smiling again.
Somewhere at av. 10 de julio Huamachucko, between Portugal and Carmen I was riding empty oneway against the non existing traffic slowly while smoking cigarette. I did not realize a woman who gestured me from the sidewalk. Not before she yelled something from what I only understood "weon" and "fuego". Meaning.. Well, meaning of weon you have to come here to figure out while fuego stands fo fire. I turned around and fronted a thirtyish woman wearing something less than g-strings and a corset while I was packed in with winter tights, shorts, and heavy hoodie in late autumn night with some +9c. It took a second to see the picture, but as she nestled my hand which was still holding the ignated Zippo against her bosom for so long that other two harlots reached us lefted little to guess even for a small town boy like I. The hole episode of lighting three cigarettes took atleast two minutes, and ladies seemed to have lot of droll at my expense while I tried to use my very limited spanish to clear up my intentions to go straigth to my bed without getting in any other bed before it. While I cannot be without thinking the ruthlessity of the work of these women, Santiago sended me to ride home smiling again.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
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