I’m such a routine oriented guy. I’ve spent 2 nights in Rio and already have my favorite coffee shop. They make a pretty great americano although it’s not on the menu and you have to explain what you need. But I got my guy there and he’s fucking on it. Two coffees, a small loaf of bread, cheese curd, half a papaya, butter and jam. Best breakfast ever. On and R$15 — about 8 bucks. And that’s expensive. I will go every day until I leave.
Oliver installed e muito boa iPhone app for movable type and I’m doing a little test run on it here. Here’s a rundown of the last few days:
Wednesday: the fucking brasilians. You invite 4 people and 14 show up. Anderson (from the previous picture), Carol (also in the picture), Steve and Leco (Steve’s brother in-law) planned to go to a bar (Via Christina) in a barrio (neighborhood) called Santa Antonio to watch the Brasil vs Ecuador game (Brasil 2-1!). 
Who shows up? Paulina (smoking hot doctor/Cousin of Steve) with three of her hot friends (one of whom was celebrating a birthday), Julia (Carol’s sister and proof fucking positive that the concept of the Jersey JAP has no borders), a friend of Anderson’s, a fussy annoying vegetarian from Madison,WI, her gay friend (who knew that gayness could come through so strong with an accent - comforting, actually) and I think that’s it. The food was divine. Grilled steak with dried and crushed chic peas and little tater tot things (but tastier, like if you got tater tots at Firefly) and little fried corn meal guys stuffed with ground beef (and others stuffed with shrimp). The whole bill? Under $80.
Thursday: Thanksgiving. 
With all of the family constantly showing off…”This is the especiality cusine of Minas Gerais”…Steve and I thought it would be fun to cook some American food for everyone. We made a Turkey, a chicken, sweet potatoes, baked beans, Firefly’s awesome corn spoonbread and Steve made some baked acorn squash thing. Everyone enjoyed themselves, Steve cried like a little girl in a pink dress and the corn spoonbread was by far the favorite. Thanks Brad.
Friday: Friday night we went into the city and dropped the kid off at the grandparents. They are very sweet and charming folks. Luciana’s father (Luciano…seriously) is such a fatherly archetype. “I swear my father breaks things just so he can fix them later,” Lu said after a successful repair of an electrical problem in their car caused my Luciano’s meddling. Again, a few calls were made and an hour of waiting around we head to a bar/cafe near their house. Again, we start with 4 and end with 12 people. Julia was in full on fucking princess mode 
and was beginning to damage my calm (the next day, Leco said, “She’s a piss in the ass.” and I think that might be my new favorite phrase. A pain in the ass is not that bad but a piss in the ass sounds like the worst thing ever). But it was raucous and loud and everyone talks with their hands (which is helpful for the understanding) and the bill was pathetically low.
Oh, and I did get tattooed on Friday afternoon. Flavinha was hotter (a little less rundown) and her breasts were dreamily soft (she tattooed my chest and kept leaning in on me - don’t think for a minute that I convinced her to let me touch them) and she knocked the tattoo out of the park. I was going for a “written on the bathroom wall look. Check it.
Any time that I’m not able to come up with something to write I will regale you with tales of overheard and participatory conversations from my job at an anonymous restaurant. Feel free to ad your own in the comments.
Man: I like galette. The word. It sounds sophisticated. Urbane.
Man to French woman: Well…the last time I was in Paris I…
I walk away.
The fun thing about this is you get to make up what he says. Try it.
Well…the last time I was in Paris I fell in love with a syphilitic hooker.
Well…the last time I was in Paris we were mugged by Moroccan hooligans and that’s why I hate the movie Casablanca.
See. Fun! Give it a go yourself.
Next,
