We decided to hop on the red eye and go where it's winter. Equipped with a pillow case of cel phones meant for women of the battered variety and our collection of slightly used hypodermics we find ourselves in Sao Paulo.
Cleveland was out late slumming it with some of her girlfriends. She met her Omar Sharif in Cairo and his tempting roofie teabag. Their unwanted brown spawn grew up to be a very obese and dusty Sao Paulo. It really is a love story.
We just ordered something you can only pronounce under water. It's a plank of fried cheese covered in meat. The beer we are confronted with doubles as a tool for fire suppression.
Not pictured is a garbage can of fries, two unfiltered packs of Newports from WWII and a coupon for complementary back-alley angioplasty/heart abortion.
The English television is a choice between soft core American pornography and one of the Delta Force sequels. In truth, we would choose nothing else.
Our outbound flight to Paris was cancelled for some reason, so we'll see you back loopside in a few days. Obragado!