So, Loren told me how many days I have left before I leave and come home. 33
Asshole.
I go day to day with out even knowing what day of the week it is, let alone the date. The LAST thing I want is to be counting the days untill I leave. That sucks.

I spent the last few days at Guerme's house in Gavia. His parents were gone for the weekend, so I stayed there with him. It's a big, nice house, and it is really wierd to be there with nobody else around. We just sat around, played on the computer, played guitar, and piano... and I taught him how to smoke pot. Yet another graduate (at least undergraduate) from Corruption 101. New Topic.

There are no drugs in this fucking city. Correction: My friends are soo far out of the drug loop that one of them thinks that acid is made from Mushrooms. WTF is that shit? Anyway... I put an APB out with everyone that if they know anyone who knows someone who has a roomate with a brother that works for a guy who had good <insert ANY drug here> that I am very interested and would like to sit down and have a chat with this upstanding citizen. Word. There is only one other problem I can think of... Who the fuck am I going to do <insert ANY drug here> WITH? I definately will not E alone. That would be pointless, and I am not *that* desperate. Halucinagens on the other hand... Those I could do in the presence of sober people... It might even bee fun... It would be far *more* fun if someone else dosed or shroomed or <I.A.D.H.>, but beggars cannot be choosers.

Did you know that they say a lie can run around the world before the truth has got its boots on?

The last couple of weeks, I have been hanging out with Juny and Pier... Juny is Argentienan, and Pier is South African... or at least they were born there... On halloween we went to this club in Barra called 'The Bedroom.' It was very interesting, expecially since, predectibally, all the furnishings were, BEDS. I met this girl from LA. Her name is MEG and she is really ---ing hot... I thought iI had a chance, but it turns out she was in an estacy rage, and was basically latching on to anything that spoke her language and didn't come up and grab her ass as an introduction. Lucky I held back that time! :-) Anyway... she INSISTED that I see her at work the next day, so, I packed my shit for a trip over the weekend, and I set out. Yup... It was 100% the estacy talking. WHY can't people keep control over themselves? I think what really fucked things up was when i told her the truth. They say a lie can run around the world before the truth has got its boots on. I asked her age: -22. She asked mine: -19 She told me the truth: -alright, I am 21, but I turn 22 in a month or so. I lied again: -alright, i am 18, turning 19 soon. Time passed... It did a pretty good job of it too. Then, being the inherently honest person that I am, proceded to open mouth and insert food: -If I tell you the truth, do you promise not to stop talking to me? Her eyebrows raised: -uh,.. .. yeah, I guess. I winced: -I'm 16. *we have lost cabin pressure* It was as if I had shot her with a stun gun. She pratcially jearked back, laughing, and, for lack of better descriptive words, did her best to avoid my stare. She came back, and I told her to try to forget it now, and that, in the words of Patrick: -Age is *only* rotation around the sun. The rest of the night went pretty well. I guess the estacy kinda pushed the part about me being 16 to the back of her mind, right around where she would find it when I show up at her work, an irish pup, the next evening. Bleh... Basically, she made it quite clear, in the nicest way possible, that I was sixteen, and estacy does strange things to people. I left. I went to another bar that I have taken to frequenting. Absolutely nothing happened there. There were tons of people, but I just stood around and looked stupid. Then I went home. I grabbed my bags, and was on the first van to Buzios.

Most drugs are chemicals, but not all --ing chemicals are drugs!

Met some cool people in buzios, but the events of the weekend are hardly worth repeating. Actually, now that I think about it, I can >>fastforeward>> about 5 days ago.
Monday, in Baxio Gavia (lower gavia), is ALWAYS a good place to go.. About 200-300 people just flood the streets and this square and stand around drinking, waiting to pick up on some more people, and go somewhere better. We met these girls that we had seen at the other bar that I frequent. We ended up hanging out with them, the details of which are also not important. The night mainly consisted of Pier getting pissed off because he lost like 10-20 $ worth of pot, and me telling him not to fucking worry about... Its just fucking drugs. Pier and Juny seemed to have some interesting conversations with the girls, who I would have placed money on them wanting to get with us. Then, they left. Blegh.

My theory is, I came to Brazil with a certain amount of luck, and I used ALL of it up in the first month and a half. GRRR... As loren so -thankfully- reminded me, I only have 33 more days.

Shall I hit him up alongside the --ing head with the --ing oar agin, Mr. Pin?
Good idea, Mr. Tulip.

Remember: When you die, if you've got your potato, everything will be okay.