Maddie just told me “I love you” on the phone. I wish she could stay this sweet forever. The innocence of a child is truly an amazing thing. It’s also something that I am terrified of watching disappear as she grows older.
I have come to the conclusion that I don’t care for Sao Paulo very much. The people are nice enough, but the odds are stacked high against this city. With a population of roughly 20 million people, it appears that a sizeable percentage live in complete squalor. The general landscape of the city is also one of urban decay. Sure there are nice areas within the city, but they are more of an oasis in a sea of ugly concrete buildings, favelas, and grafitti-ridden streets. There is also a tremendous amount of garbage lying around - some of which appears to be human beings.
My job requires that I work some pretty strange hours, and last night was the second time that a taxi driver has basically fallen asleep at the wheel while driving me back to the hotel at 4am (last time was only a month ago in Santiago, Chile). If you’ve been to Sao Paulo, you’ll know that this is not exactly the type of place where you can say “enough of this shit” and get out of the taxi in the old downtown area. You’d probably end up robbed, beaten and stabbed about 237 times. Maybe even killed.
So, you’re in a bit of a tough spot. Since few taxi drivers appear to have any knowledge of English (pretty damned rude of them, if you ask me…) trying to carry on a conversation to keep them awake is akin to drinking the tap water in Mexico. You give your body something that appears relatively normal, only to get some really strange shit back.
I am adding night shift South American taxi drivers to the list of people that I really hate.
Those terms are for “special” people. Don’t use them here, and I’ll promise that I won’t (use them again) either.
Ditto for smiley faces made from punctuation marks.
As you peruse my blog, don’t think for a minute that it’s about flowers, tulips, or anything like that.
The tulips are going, and I can’t stress that enough.
You know who’d like some tulips? The knackered horses in the field next to my hotel in Sao Paulo, Brazil. And if I hadn’t dropped my Canon A95 when I was drunk at a wedding, so that the stupid thing won’t connect with my computer without a freakin’ card reader (which I forgot), then you’d have a picture. Wouldn’t you?
Technically, I am not “allowed” to take the Canon 20d on my little trips. Due to space issues, it did not make it on this one, but it has been known to “wander.” However, I have no direct knowledge of anything that might even remotely resemble that type of scenario…
I watched an episode of 24 the other day. It was an old episode on DVD. It was the one where Jack Bauer threatened to stuff most of a twisted towel down this bad guy’s throat, allow his stomach to begin digestion, and then rip the towel out of his throat, supposedly causing the entire stomach lining to come with it. Anyone know if that actually works?
We could use it on Vicki Leigh Chiles.
This little girl is missing, but you already know that unless you’ve been in a cave for a couple of weeks.
My daughter’s nickname is Maddie (or Maddy). So is hers.
My daughter is 3. So is theirs (banner above says 4, but articles I read say 3). No matter.
Debates regarding responsibility and accountability aside, this one just hits too close to home. Ultimate accountability has little to do with the desired outcome.
May they find this little girl safe and sound.
May there be no mercy for those responsible.
I fucking hate those that prey on children. I have a special place in mind for these people. It involves an island, some flamethrowers, and the solution for prison overcrowding. I’ll elaborate further some other time.
Welcome to the new home of Irish Itinerant. I have decided to move house because Blogger pretty much bites the big one. Adios, Blogger.
I expect to have the decorators in fairly soon as well as rearrange some stuff around here. So, pardon my dust. I’ve imported all the old posts (all 6 of them) and have also gone to the trouble of importing the non-existent comments received thus far.
OK, because of my antics last night, I think I may have to go hurl now, and I’m not talking about the sport…
There are 612 days until Bush leaves office. It’s not that I hate the fucker, I’m just sayin’ like…
What is it with people and their cell phones? I mean, are you really that important where you have to be chatting incessantly while you drive? And I use the term “drive” loosely. What you are managing to actually demonstrate on the road is somewhere between driving and touching yourself. You are not paying attention, and it’s pretty obvious to me and everyone else when you sit at the friggin’ stop sign for almost a minute “forgetting” that you’re not at home on your couch. Something tells me that you’ll be first on the scene at your own accident.
Moron.
Today should be a good one. My daughter’s school “Spring Sing” is tonight, and the family will all come to see here. She’s a little terror darling. I need to charge the camera battery, or it could turn into a bad day for yours truly.
Oh yeah - this is Maddie by the way. At three years of age, she is the exact opposite of a normal human being. Say “hi”.
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