El bien, el mal y el feo

--I never saw my fiance again and according to our brief Facebook conversations, she has left the country forever. I guess it just wasn't meant to be. Turns out she even had a blog too, which featured one of the greatest lines ever:

"I want to cry but my brain is like harden the fuck up, now is not the time to lose it..."

I wish I knew more girls who told themselves to "harden the fuck up."

--I knew coming to Argentina that one day I'd tell somebody one of my random, goofy beliefs and they would walk away thinking that all Americans are retarded. The first occurrence of what I hope to be many happened when I engaged in a conversation with a Scottish guy about R. Kelly.

I convinced him that in America R. Kelly is a national hero, who can do no wrong, because in my mind he is a national hero and he was acquitted, so technically he has done no wrong. Plus he's motherfucking R. Kelly, do you even realize how deep his catalog is?

--How much do I love the Wayans brothers? Enough that I watched most of "The 6th Man" in Spanish. There's nothing like watching Dick Vitale dubbed over in Spanish. It's also weird that in the movie Marlon never takes off his UW jersey. I sat there waiting for him to watch his Vizio with Ladainian Tomlinson in a bizarro world where athletes never take off their jerseys.

--Speaking of the Marlon, did you know he was supposed to be Robin in "Batman?" (source: Aziz's blog)

--In one of the creepier moments of my life I was walking down to the subway and I heard some ghoulish music that sounded like I was waiting in line to enter Mummy ride at Universal Studios. Keep in mind that at this point I was without Brendon Frasier so I knew that if there actually was an angry mummy at the end of the stairs I'd be screwed.

In a fucked-up turn of events, it ended up being a homeless woman who may or may not have died in 1974. She had no teeth, no eyes and was just sitting there humming the creepiest shit ever.

--For a bunch of reason that I can't justify I didn't go out the other night. Tragically I ended up achieving the new gayest moment of the trip as I sat there in my family room watching "Bridget Jones Diary" with my roommate Leanardo, who is in Buenos Aires for four weeks to study Yoga. This greatly surpasses the dog Skyping as my lazyness and general apathy put me in a situation where I was watching a Renee Zellweger movie, which we all know is gayer than dog Skyping.

I woke up the next morning with a cold, which is basically God's way of saying "This is a warning. If you ever do anything that lame again I'll give you AIDS."

Today I am going to try to atone for my apathetic, gay sins and try to achieve the inverse of other night, which if my calculations are correct is blowing lines off a stripper. Wish me luck.

--Photo time:

Some UN trucks


First I was going to have my picture taken in the pilot's seat, but then I wanted to go for the whole Ma$e in Mariah Carey's "Honey" video look. So that's what I was trying to achieve here if you're curious, and yes I always think about how a rapper would take the pic before I pose for a picture.
more random UN trucks
I took this picture because Seppy's dad would have wanted me take this picture for Spencer. Spencer, if you ever get down here, we're only eating here. I'm sorry.
Trill Messi jacket.
This was some weird room in the middle of the huge agriculture convention. I had to sit in it even though I only kinda like LeBron James.
The name of this restaurant is so close, yet so far. Bu Bu Ka Ka...
Well would you look at this shit. Everybody wants to be an Arizona, but don't nobody want to be an Arizonan (c) Paul Mooney
Spicker, these posters are everywhere and there's no chance I ever live with you unless you exacto knife your Henry.