The blog step back 3

Unprecedented. Three blogs in one day. They said it couldn't be done. I just have too much shit to write about.

--I wanted to write about this days ago after it happened, but I had my first jesus-fucking-christ-i'm-living-here-for-the-next-five-months-this-is-fucking-unreal moment of the trip while walking along "los diques" (the dikes that divide a river) in the Puerto Madero district of the city.

Everything was just fucking amazing, and I only say "fucking amazing" because I'm just a small-time writer for Tucson's fourth biggest Nic Wise tribute blog and I don't have the literary skills to describe all the sights I saw on my walk.

Unfortunately I didn't bring my camera, so I'm going to rely on my half-ass writing skills to discuss the highlights of the trip.

1. Puente de Mujer (pictured above): In a shocking, unforseen upset Puente de Mujer became Justin Adler's favorite bridge of all time defeating the reigning champion Bay Bridge. I first saw this bridge from a couple blocks away and thought it was a giant harp. Then when I saw it up close I was in awe. Then when I figured out how it worked I lost my fucking mind. I don't know anyone who has seen it open, but I plan on sitting next to it for as long as it takes to see the huge bridge turn 90 degrees. Hell I might buy a ship, just to make it open.

2. Kids play soccer every where. I feel like a complete douche using soccer so from now on I'm using football. If you are in a crowded area you will see someone playing football every block. If you are in a less crowded area, you will still see football every two blocks.

While walking along the river walk a football team came out of no where and just started doing freestyle tricks such as sick ball handling moves and passing under random objects.

Everyone wears football jerseys. Unlike the States where wearing jerseys in public became uncool after Hov realized he was 30 plus, people of all ages wear kits all the time.

I also saw two kids playing football in the street and not even giving a fuck about the cars driving by as they literally would jump right in front of them.

The kids are cool as their dad works the Ugi's Pizza right next to my hostel. They started talking to me about Maradona, which was great because I was going on my 72nd hour in Argentina without an unsolicited conversation about Maradona. The kids, no more than 12 years old, said something about marijuana, then I responded that Maradona took a ton of drugs.

Then the little chico put his finger on his nose and started snorting air. I laughed and contemplated adopting him. To put this into American perspective, imagine talking to a little kid about Kobe Bryant and the first thing he does is bend over the nearest white woman.

3. Back to my list... I saw the coolest jacket I have ever seen in my life. All red, white colar, white trim on the sleeves, a white Nike Swoosh on the right and a thick-stiched rose on the left. Nothing else. I have no clue what the hell it represented or where I could get it, but it's now my dream jacket. No, I'm not sure why I felt the need to blog this.

4. There's a lot of shit I'm forgetting.

5. The greatest moment where it all came together as I figured out life and almost figured out the Dharma Initiative in the process came as I walked by one of the 800 swank, modern restuarants by the river. They were playing he Gorrillaz instrumental, that Lupe ripped in "A bathing harry" off his mixtape "A Rhyming Ape." You'd have to be Justin Adler in Buenos Aires to understand, but it was one of the defining moments of my life.

6. Oh yeah, all this shit is just in front of my campus.

----Other random shit

--There were some nice Brittish girls staying in my hostel room one night. While forcing the awkward football small talk that every American with the slightest interest in sports brings up with anybody from England, one girl said, "Yeah I have the Arsenal crest on my rock bag."

Within 2 seconds I had many questions:
----How'd you get a bag of rocks from Manchester to Buenos Aires?
----Why is a young girl smuggling crack across the Atlantic?
----How the fuck did you get an Arsenal-themed dime bag?
----Shit, can I get down on some?

Tragically, she was just referring to her backpack.

--I really wanna see Ari Shiffrin skate this city, so I'm starting a foundation right now that is basically raise money to buy the man a plane ticket. We need about $1,500, so start Paypal-ing money to elkgrove44@aol.com asap. Thanks. Your 990-EZ will be e-mailed to you soon after your donation.

--I forgot to put this in my magical walking list of earlier, but I stumbled across a huge soccer field in the middle of Puerto Madero. It was fenced in so it had the Rucker Park feel and both teams were wearing sick pro kits, one team was fully laced with light blue Barca kits.

It's now my new goal to find the Rucker Park of Buenos Aires.

--Speaking of streetball, this video of Kevin Durant dropping 60 in a Goodman League game is pretty sick. OK so I didn't watch the whole thing but Durant has a dirty step-back 3 from a couple feet in front of half court at he 5:30 mark. The Goodman League is the famous streetball tourney in the shittiest part of D.C. that got tons of national media attention when Gilbert Arenas started casually showing up completely unnanounced. He also drove up in his Maybach on some John Leguiziamo in Empire shit.

--Speaking of D.C. hoops, and this doesn't have to do with anything so be ready, but it's my favorite story that only I find funny. Once while creeping some hot girl I barely know on Facebook, I tagged Antonio Daniels in one of her photo albums that showed her at a Wiz game with Daniels warming up in the background. The combination of tagging a random NBA role player into a photo of a girl I had met once was just too much for me and I laughed for a solid five minutes after I did it. No that doesn't have shit to do with anything, but if Weezy can talk about the Gremlins...

--Props to my main man Gould for keeping me up on all D. Miles news. Mr. Kerr, please realize that Darius is the missing piece.

--At my hostel they played an accordian only version of Orgy's "Blue Monday."

--Special guest editor for Seth Janiga-related post: Seth Janiga. I regret the error of making the Tottenham Hotspur plural. I also regret not reading any of this shit over and posting it with 9 million typos and grammar errors.

--I learned today there's a Niketown in Buenos Aires I will hit up soon and hopefully find my dream jacket.

----Future WPM post you should greatly anticipate: My essay on how Juelz Santanas is as, if not more important than any other form of media that has impacted my life.

Also coming up soon, my obsession with Wall-E's marketing, my time on a pirate ship, some photos, random allusions to Beanie Sigel.

--I almost forgot but as I type my new Brazillian friend just came up to me and said "Fuck Man!" then ran away. Anybody who has talked to me for more than 3 seconds or read this blog understands my grand affinity for profanity. I can't tell you how much I enjoy hearing all these "foreigners" swear. I love how Brittish use "shit" as an adjective such as "this is a shit couch," but Argentines take it a step further.

I asked if I should go to some outdoor concert tonight, but the hostel employee told me "Don't go. Too much rain. It's fuck weather."

This other kid I hang out with says "fuck" before every word. "This is fuck beer. Why do you wear such fuck clothes? Fuck."

Also Argentines don't use "son of a bitch" or even it's literal translation "hijo de puta" they use "penoche de su madre" when something goes wrong. Look it up.