Andy almost gets mugged -and deserves it-   3 comments

recife

Approached by two of the ugliest scumfuck prostitutes you wouldn´t fuck with a brick.. Key word: You.

I´d actually been doing alright twenty minutes earlier in a hostel chatting up some hottie from Sao Paulo when my German buddy came crashing through the door. Seeing my exchange with this Latin stunner he parked himself down across from us on the edge of a bunk bed and just patiently watched for his moment to cut in and deliver what surely looks to be the most urgent message anyone has ever had to pass on. I´m trying desperately to forget he´s there and continue my conversation.. “Andy, can I talk to you outside”?

And there goes that.

I´m told excitedly about the fact he´s discovered we´re real close to the cities red-light district as he leads me to the computer with map directions laid out. I´m not convinced. “We don’t have a car, this is not going to work. I´ve done this shit before in Edinburgh -when I was young and stupid- and it´s dodgy as fuck, uncomfortable and at least in my own country I know what kind of shit I can get into if I´m caught.” I say while we make our way towards the lady´s of the night. We´ve obviously came to the right place as we start to see scantly clad women on each side of the road, but who´s got the balls to just walk up and ask “Are you a prostitute”? Neither of us and so we continue walking hoping (kind off) that one of them will approach us.. Eventually two of them do and by fuck do I wish I´d stayed home! I quickly grab attention of the less macho creature, fuuck..why am I doing this?

She leads me across the road and into a car park, but there´s someone there and so we slip over a high wall and into an area of land strewn with bricks, rubble, broken glass and all manners of shite surrounded by high-rise apartment blocks beyond this enclosed, walled in dump. Led to one end but still in clear view of at least one hundred windows she begins to take down my shorts. Her friend interrupts -thank fuck- and from what I can make of their exchange she´s telling her that my friend didn´t pay. She pulls up my shorts and says “Pagar”, pagar means pay. Pay for what? She´s done fuck all, but I´m not that bothered as this pair have STD written all over them, I button my shorts and pull out the money.. Then things go tits up..

The second my hand leaves my pocket with notes they attack. The look on their face was feral and I´m taken completely by surprise as they both grab at my collar. “Policia, Policia” they shout. Fuck, what’s going on? Are they undercover police -not likely-, are they warning that police are coming? I don´t know, but I´m not in a good position right now. “What are you doing? Fuck off!” I say while making a half assed attempt at breaking free while thinking of my options.

What if it´s a set up? This is obvious, but I´m trying to think of what kind of set up. Does it involve police or do they have friends around the corner? I could beat them both pretty easily and run off but if it is police then I could be extremely fucked. I slip my t-shirt off as that’s what they both have their hands on and break free for just a moment as one of them quickly grabs the back of my shorts. Now this is just getting ridiculous as I hear her feet dragging through the gravel as I stride away shouting “HELP, HEEELP”!

She´s given up and I begin to jog towards the wall. I could hear responses to my pleas of help, but who´s responding? Is it her pimp and friends, if it´s the police what do I tell them? Kinda my own fault I´m in this pickle. Why are they not chasing me anymore, should I go back and beat them up for having such cheek? I climb over and make my way towards the main street half naked at 10pm. Jog I tell myself, just pretend you’re out for a late night jog in your sandals.

I pass the prossies that seen me moments before fully clothed and then I remember my friend.. Fuck! I jog back. We´d arranged to meet at the same place we´d met those hoes and so that’s the place I have to go. Not really the ideal place to go at this moment of time as they´re far more likely to have their backup this time and still I´m thinking that this could be a police sting. I run past and again and again with no sign of my friend. Maybe he´s been fucked over?

I run home, have a shower and prepare to go out again and find him, those two cunts and maybe get my t-shirt back when he walks in. “Where the fuck have you been”?

What happened was that after I´d went with Butt ugly, He´d had a change of mind and just told the girl he wasn´t interested -wish I´d done that-. He walked a little further down the street and found two much more attractive girls who took him to a little tree at the side of the main road and proceeded to give him head. They´d asked to see the money half way through and the second he showed them money they grabbed it, shouted Policia and ran away!

Sat a few days later at the dinner table of the family I´ve been working for. “So, you weren´t raped or mugged then”? You wouldn´t believe if I told you!

Posted November 4, 2014 by andysalwaysright in Brazil, humor, travel

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I´ve goat something to say   Leave a comment

What you goat yerself intae now?

What you goat yourself into now?

Frustration.

Frustration is a word I became well familiar with during my time in Brasil especially in and around the aptly named town Bonito where the women are hot as fuck, but they´re all under eighteen although looking easily early to mid twenties. Legal age for sex? You´ve guessed it. I´m not fucking exaggerating here!

Even the hot blond who´s teaching me to milk goats isn´t quite eighteen although let us take a moment to consider my source of information concerning the laws and harsh penalties dished out towards those who get lucky with a seventeen year old. Father of said seventeen year old!

I can control myself and so plod on with the various tasks asked of me at this farm and I must say this is why I came to Brasil. Amazing small farm located within a two hour walk from the nearest town. I love the work and they keep me pretty busy plus the Canadian host family possibly being one of the coolest family´s to spend the next three months with whip up some damned fine meals.
Here is where I meet Poopy the green parrot who creepily turned to us one day while we were throwing bricks and said “Help me!” Emm..What the fucks been happening here for a parrot to pick that up?

Poopy was an awesome bird with that tap, tap, tap on the floor as he made his way through the house and into the kitchen to steal breakfast from your mouth -your shoulder being his favourite perch from where to sit while eating waffles in the morning. Towards the end of my time the family wondered, worried even of what would become of Poopy when they had to return to Canada. I suggested eating him and this way they could take him with them. He would always be part of you..until you need a shit!

I guess eating poopy doesn´t really sound too appetising so I´m sure he´s safely perched, squawking away “Poopypoopypoopy”! and biting peoples fucking ears! Yeah Poopy, I remember. Why do you think I suggested eating you?
Work would include chopping wood, chasing goats, getting attacked by Gandalf -massive male goat-, milking, replacing fence posts, fixing the road and digging up shit loads of these horrible South American stinging nettles sometimes taller than me. Once I was stung on the arm while rooting one out and in a sudden rage I stamped down on the fucker only for it to bounce back up and sting the whole underside of my thigh. Lesson of the day: I HATE those fucking weeds!

But seriously, what was with all those seventeen year olds who I have to add again never look as young as that. Every time myself or Roman, a German I friend who´s also came to work on the farm, would find ourselves talking with a hot girl and find yet again that she´s seventeen. In Scotland it´d be a pat on the back and “On yersel”, but here you can get shot apparently. This is a shit set up with women. Clearly when the lady’s reach that special age (eighteen) they all fuck off to the city to get jobs, further education and to get away from men like me.

And so we set out to find them..

Posted November 4, 2014 by andysalwaysright in Brazil, humor, travel

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What you goat yourself into?   Leave a comment

Acting the goat..

Acting the goat..

Frustration.

Frustration is a word I became well familiar with during my time in Brasil especially in and around the aptly named town Bonito where the women are hot as fuck, but they´re all under eighteen although looking easily early to mid twenties. Legal age for sex? You´ve guessed it. I´m not fucking exaggerating here!

Even the hot blond who´s teaching me to milk goats isn´t quite eighteen although let us take a moment to consider my source of information concerning the laws and harsh penalties dished out towards those who get lucky with a seventeen year old. Father of said seventeen year old!

I can control myself and so plod on with the various tasks asked of me at this farm and I must say this is why I came to Brasil. Amazing small farm located within a two hour walk from the nearest town. I love the work and they keep me pretty busy plus the Canadian host family possibly being one of the coolest family´s to spend the next three months with whip up some damned fine meals.
Here is where I meet Poopy the green parrot who creepily turned to us one day while we were throwing bricks and said “Help me!” Emm..What the fucks been happening here for a parrot to pick that up?

Poopy was an awesome bird with that tap, tap, tap on the floor as he made his way through the house and into the kitchen to steal breakfast from your mouth -your shoulder being his favourite perch from where to sit while eating waffles in the morning. Towards the end of my time the family wondered, worried even of what would become of Poopy when they had to return to Canada. I suggested eating him and this way they could take him with them. He would always be part of you..until you need a shit!

I guess eating poopy doesn´t really sound too appetising so I´m sure he´s safely perched, squawking away “Poopypoopypoopy”! and biting peoples fucking ears! Yeah Poopy, I remember. Why do you think I suggested eating you?
Work would include chopping wood, chasing goats, getting attacked by Gandalf -massive male goat-, milking, replacing fence posts, fixing the road and digging up shit loads of these horrible South American stinging nettles sometimes taller than me. Once I was stung on the arm while rooting one out and in a sudden rage I stamped down on the fucker only for it to bounce back up and sting the whole underside of my thigh. Lesson of the day: I HATE those fucking weeds!

But seriously, what was with all those seventeen year olds who I have to add again never look as young as that. Every time myself or Roman, a German friend who´s also came to work on the farm, would find ourselves talking with a hot girl and find yet again that she´s seventeen. In Scotland it´d be a pat on the back and “On yersel”, but here you can get shot apparently. This is a shit set up with women. Clearly when the lady’s reach that special age (eighteen) they all fuck off to the city to get jobs, further education and to get away from men like me.

And so we set out to find them..

Posted November 4, 2014 by andysalwaysright in Brazil, humor, travel

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Welcome to Bonito.. Brazil starts here!   3 comments

A three hour journey from possibly the ugliest bus station in the world -they print postcards of that building!- and I´m impressed by my seating arrangements. This scantily clad Brazilian angels legs would rub continuously against my own for the whole journey while I myself am pushed closer still towards her by a girl standing in the crowded isle who eventually gives up and begins sitting on the edge of my other leg. Offer her the seat? Fuck off!

She talks to me -hot one at the window seat- and I´ve no idea what she´s saying. Could be anything, anything!

Andy’s mind:

“Have me you sexy tiger. Rip me apart right now”!

Reality:

-Probably- “Stop touching my leg you beast”!

She grabs my hand, peels my fingers open and places a boiled sweetie inside and continues to talk quietly in Portuguese while pointing at herself and then towards me. I´ve not a fucking clue.

Two hours later she leaves the bus and I want so badly to go with her but she arranges with some guys who are also on their way to Bonito that they should show me where to go and help me out. When I depart the bus I fuck off and get on with my own thing. Thanks but I don´t need a baby sitter.. Especially male ones!

The small town is mobbed completely due to the festival taking place and I might be completely fucked for finding a place to stay as it´s nine o´clock at night and it´ll have to be tomorrow before I make my way towards the farm where I plan to work for the next three months. The police I talk with point out a posada (hostel) and I get completely ripped off. Not wanting to think about this any longer or of what I´d like to do to that fuckin prick, I move swiftly on to going out to check out what this party´s all about.

I´m drinking alone beside one of the many small beer stalls when approached by the only other caucasian here and she instantly makes a drunken bee-line towards me. “Where are you from, what’s you´re name”? Standard shit but she´s really drunk and staring directly into my eyes while rubbing my arm up and down. Fucking LOVE this country!

After maybe forty minutes of talking shit she leads me towards her friend’s house, actually her Dads friend’s house, but I´m getting the feeling Daddy and friends won´t be in.. Wrong!

On the front step of the house sits her Dad with his bit on the side who´s younger than his daughter and his friends.

The second I´m introduced words are exchanged in Portuguese from father to daughter while he politely smiles at me.

“My Dad is being an asshole. He´s asking why I brought you here and doubts that you do anything decent for a living”.

Fucking wanker.

“He wants to know what you do”.

His fucking daughter by the end of the night I hope but no, biting my tongue does nothing for me and soon after he leads her away from this tattooed punk of a man and I never see her again.

A dead end sure, but it´s all going in the right direction. Two girls I want to fuck and two guys I want to kill so far, but things are gonna get pretty interesting this side of the world. That´s a promise..

Posted November 3, 2014 by andysalwaysright in humor, travel

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How Not To Travel..   7 comments

Waterproofing your camera.. Remember you have it in a condom for when pulling it out to tell someone the time!

Waterproofing your camera.. Remember you have it in a condom for when pulling it out to tell someone the time!

Holly shit it´s like I´ve never travelled before!

In Edinburgh airport with two hours left before my flight and I´m sitting alone in the departure lounge. Always makes me wonder if I´m in the right place when there´s no one else, but still two hours so kick back, relax..

“Here, you going to Recife”?From an official looking member of staff.

Emm, yeah but my flights not for another two hours.. I think? *Quickly checks watch.

“Aye Andrew, ye left yer see-through folder with yer passport, flight details and boarding tickets in the bathroom”!

Shite!

Not even begun my adventure yet and I´m fucking up. His final words to me should have ended with a clip round the lug (ear) then maybe I would have learned my lesson.

Landing in Gatwick (England) with time to kill, I park my arse down in a restaurant and demolish a fry-up before gathering my shit and making my way towards the departure lounge.. Something’s not right.. Fuck!

Running back I find my fleece jacket thankfully still there complete with wallet, bank cards and money still inside. What’s wrong with me? I need to get a grip!

Finally off the island and upon seeing the hostels, hotels and bed n´breakfasts so close to the airport while landing in Lisbon, I make my decision to fuck the idea of sitting for twenty one hours inside the airport for my connecting flight. Instead I will get myself a nice wee pad to lay up in. Something cheap and close and so I venture towards the girl behind the tourist information booth.

I pass my bank card to her while she books a cheap bed n´breakfast for me. She loads it into the machine and hesitates for a while and so for some reason I assume she ´s waiting to hear my pin number.. I tell her my pin number! “DON´T TELL ME YOUR PIN NUMBER”! Ohh, I know. Why did I just do that? I´m doing everything wrong so far, surely I´ve run out of stupid things to do?

Brazil, Brazil I´ve fucking made it! I’ve made it in one piece and somehow not managed to lose anything or EVERYTHING!
Grabbing a taxi in the middle of the night from Recife airport and finally making it to my hostel where I´m booked into for the night, I throw myself down and start to rela.. I´m so fucking hungry! I go out.

I´m walking down the street with a Brazilian room mate who speaks no English and combined with my knowledge of Portuguese (absolutely nothing) we sit down to eat in silence. Conversation extends to names of famous Brazilian footballers and my finding out that as far as Brasilians are concerned Portuguese has no resemblance whatsoever to Spanish.. I think/hope that’s balls!

I check the time.. Try to check the time.
Where´s my phone? Oh fuck Andy, not the phone! Where did I have it last?
We finish our meals and make our way home -or to the hostel- where I hope beyond hope that St Christopher (Saint of travel) hasn´t given up on me and find to my great relief my phone sitting in the middle of my bed in a room of five bunks. I am one seriously lucky idiot!

Now I can finally kick back, relax.. I´m in Brazil!
I´ve made it!

I think of the backpack I´m travelling with for the next year and wonder how the Hell I managed to get all my belongings down to only ten kilos. What have I forgotten to pack?

My clothes?!

Posted November 3, 2014 by andysalwaysright in humor, travel

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Avoiding cobwebs. Prep for Brazil   14 comments

Packed! Ok, so to avoid the whining of fuckin hippies believing that I'm taking my machete overseas to maim a leopard.. I'm not.  No, I'm sure they'll give me one while I'm there!

Packed! Ok, so to avoid the whining of fuckin hippies believing that I’m taking my machete overseas to maim a leopard.. I’m not.
No, I’m sure they’ll give me one while I’m there!

Flicking through my wad of Brazilian reais (currency) and taking note of the variety of wildlife displayed on such colorful notes, which might actually eat me at any given time. I consider that my occupation whilst living there –shepherd- combined with my location of such job – 200km West of Belem or Amazon territory to you and me- makes my notion of becoming a predators bowel movement not as farfetched as it might seem.

 

I’m feeling pretty much prepared as I sit in my bedroom surrounded by paper work of flight details, travel insurance, health..fuck, I don’t want to even look at that pile of time consuming shite right now. So that’s all there, clothes folded and ready to be crammed into a bag at some point, camera, few books and my tablet. Even that stretchy rope thingy for keeping my arms in shape, all present and ready to rock.

 

I’m informed that mosquito repellent isn’t cheap and I don’t expect it would be but my minds more focused on the acquisition of leopard spray as harsh language will only see me so far.

 

*Images of a Tarzanesque Andy decked out in junglewear aimlessly crashing through dense rainforest muttering “Nae fuckin’ danger!” while hotly pursued by a carnivorous jungle kitty.

 

. . .

 

So what can we expect from this forthcoming adventure?

Something really stupid involving snakes and crocs no doubt. I can pretty much guarantee that as I am that idiot that has to touch. My ways have served me well so far, but feel free to tell me you told me so if I return minus a limb. Ten months in Costa Rica and the most savage attack came from the jaws of a terrapin (although it could have been far worse if we’d found that puma we were tracking in Corcovado or Derik the fer-de-lance snake we pestered) so do your worst mother nature for you are my bitch. –ok, so I do respect nature a little more than that-

 

Being something of a football fan although not obsessively, it hasn’t escaped my notice that during my time there a certain tournament will be taking place. I may however, be the only living thing in Brazil who will miss it all entirely. Just can’t justify to myself the possibility of forking out £300 per night in a city to watch sport. Especially if England win the fucking thing! –I’m Scottish- ‘Boo’, ‘yeah’! Fuck off, it’s just a bit o’ banter!

 

So don’t expect a 2014 World Cup review or even a travel guide of what’s hot in Brazil. Just expect the tales and photos of a man exploring something new.

Think Bear Grills meets Mr. Bean!

Well versed in the ways of the mighty Leppard!

Well versed in the ways of the mighty Leppard!

 

Posted January 11, 2014 by andysalwaysright in Uncategorized

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2013 in review   4 comments

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 7,100 times in 2013. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 6 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Posted December 31, 2013 by andysalwaysright in Uncategorized

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