The faggot, the friends, the police and the vagabonds

I said I didn’t want this to become a blog and so I don’t, but thought I might just share this wee story.

Some of you may be aware that I’ve been sharing a house with a faggot for a while. Well, when you share a place with anyone, unresolved tension will simmer below the surface like in a pressure cooker if issues aren’t quickly aired and resolved and so it was with the faggot and the pressure cooker exploded on Friday night resulting in angry words, pushing, many gay gestures and, ultimately, punches to the head. What I didn’t expect, but should have, was the little faggot firstly running from the house squealing like a dying drama queen (that I did expect), but his return with half a dozen friends I did not expect. The result of which was that I was dragged bodily from the house and had the kick shitted out of me and I was more or less asked to leave, which was a no brainer anyway. What I didn’t expect was that the cops would be called who duly arrived and the little bitch tried everything to get me arrested, including claiming that I was illegally in the country (I am, but they’re not the sharpest spoons in the drawer as all I had to do was show them my work card, but no one looks at the expiry date as you have to be legal to obtain one – mine expired less than a week after it was issued). The cops watched over me as I packed and confiscated my cooking knives and machete (bastards), fearing that I might put that screaming little wally woofter out of my misery and then hit the streets with suitcase in hand and backpack upon my shoulders.

TBC

You should have bought him that ball-gag for christmas that he wanted so badly.

Knew I could rely on you, Terps. Thanks buddy.

I hope people aren't thinking this is a poor me thread, give me sympathy. No, it's more about what comes next.

So, I managed to catch a few hours sleep on the street and plan what I do next. As a top gap, I temporarily booked into a cool hostel in Copacabana yesterday to collect my thoughts and lick my wounds (my ribs still hurt like a motherfucker).

I purchased a few beers and wandered to the beach to contemplate shit. As I was sat there, I heard maniacal laughter and noticed it came from a guy with dreadlocks and really bad teeth with another two guys as they passed me. The "insane" sound of freedom reverberated from that crazy laugh and it stopped me in my tracks (yeah, I know I was not walking, forgive the metaphor.

It was obvious that they were itinerants and I suddenly called them back. I told them that I couldn't spare them any change but I could give them a smile. It turned out that they were a Columbian, Agentinian and a Uragayan and not one spoke English or Porkandcheese, but it didn't matter, we all made ourselves understood and shared some laughs and bonhomie. I asked if they were travellers and they laughed and told me they identified as vagabonds, to which I responded that I was envious of their freedom, however I was happy with my freedom from hunger.

They shared some cachaça (Brazilian cane spirit) they had, and the one with bad teeth insisted on tying a woven rasta bracelet on my wrist and another asked how to spell my name and then proceeded to make a keyring out of wire that spelt it. A Brazilian guy approached us and asked for a light for his hand rolled cigarette and it was immediate apparent that it wasn't tobacco and he proceeded to share it with us.

After an hour or so, we went our separate ways, all of us richer for the encounter and I have to say, when we met today serendipitously, there was much hugging, cachaça and cigarette sharing along with goodwill to all. I thank these guys from the bottom of my heart as I met them at a very low point in my life and they made me smile and love my fellow man.

Moving hurts. Moving from A to B hurts like a bitch. Smiling doesn't hurt.

Time to come home?

How long will it take to get the fare together?

I hope you are okay. While meeting those guys on the beach is a good thing, being put out on the street by a gang of faggots, who also tried to get you deported, is not. I hope nothing is broken Your Mom and that you heal quickly.

Will you get your knives back when you find a new place to live? I don't understand how it is legal for the police to keep your cooking knives. Sounds like we will only be allowed plastic cutlery at home soon. Sucks.

On the good side you don't have to put up with faggot boy anymore. I am going to trust that you find a much nicer place to live, and end up wondering why you put up with the ugly faggot for so long. I am so sorry this happened, hang in there.

Im REALLY TRULY CONCERNED for this weed plant you had in the pot on the table.-that you always show us


IS IT ALRIGHT?

So sorry, Mom! It's wonderful though that you met up with those freedom loving guys when you really needed encouragement. The universe takes care of us. Hopefully you can find a new and better home soon and recover your knives. many loves to you....

Damn shame mate, especially since that was such a nice place, with the jungle out back and stuff...plus the weed plant K mentioned that is now gonna be raised by a poofter...

Glad you´re ok tho...

To those that expressed concern about the baby, rest assured that that was ancient history and was cremated long ago.

TC NLI wrote:Time to come home?

How long will it take to get the fare together?

Where is home for a gypsy wanderer?

Of course I've thought about returning to blighty, which is as much home as anywhere, but my "kids" live in OZ and would rather I go there first.

As for how long to get the fare together? Should be done by the end of the year and, yes, I suspect my Brazilian odyssey will soon come to an end.

Oooooo that was not a good weekend at all. Glad yer ok! Do you have any couch surfing sites there? I'm a member on my site - but there are other sites on facebook. DirtyKid Couchsurfing coalition is a big one (I'm a member on that too - haven't had any of them surf though my place yet though - have a kid in out of my place now).

Oh wow, I kept seeing the title of this thread, having no possible clue what it could be about, and planned to read it when I had some time.

Soooo sorry, YM! Sounds like you had an AWFUL weekend! I know you wouldn't, but you can come stay with me if you want.

Your Mom wrote:

TC NLI wrote:Time to come home?

How long will it take to get the fare together?

Where is home for a gypsy wanderer?

Of course I've thought about returning to blighty, which is as much home as anywhere, but my "kids" live in OZ and would rather I go there first.

As for how long to get the fare together? Should be done by the end of the year and, yes, I suspect my Brazilian odyssey will soon come to an end.

You should stop in on your way and visit the old world. See Europe once more before it is burned to the ground (again).





But seriously, do stop by...

Wow i'm so sorry that happened to you Mom. How did everything work out? Did you find a better place?

I found a place, but that didn't work out and I left after a week. I've been in another hostel for the past week.

I went to look at another place on Sunday and that was interesting. Because it's situated down a tiny alley way, I had to wait for a woman to come up to guide me. The entrance to the alley way was guarded by a young guy brandishing an AK-47!

My ribs are a lot better and don't hurt too much now.

Your Mom wrote:I found a place, but that didn't work out and I left after a week. I've been in another hostel for the past week.

I went to look at another place on Sunday and that was interesting. Because it's situated down a tiny alley way, I had to wait for a woman to come up to guide me. The entrance to the alley way was guarded by a young guy brandishing an AK-47!

My ribs are a lot better and don't hurt too much now.

Geez! I'll take the walking by the shifty apartment buildings with some nasties hanging out front daring me to look at them instead of an AK 47!! Do stay safe!!

Tude wrote:

Your Mom wrote:I found a place, but that didn't work out and I left after a week. I've been in another hostel for the past week.

I went to look at another place on Sunday and that was interesting. Because it's situated down a tiny alley way, I had to wait for a woman to come up to guide me. The entrance to the alley way was guarded by a young guy brandishing an AK-47!

My ribs are a lot better and don't hurt too much now.

Geez!  I'll take the walking by the shifty apartment buildings with some nasties hanging out front daring me to look at them instead of an AK 47!!  Do stay safe!!

The guy with the ak-47 didn't faze me, even when he questioned what I was doing hanging around there. About 300 yards back up that road is what is known as a Police Pacification Unit post, outside of which I saw half a dozen heavily armed cops. Now, these are the ones that bother me as they are notorious for shooting first and asking questions later.

I saw a terrifying statistic recently: in the last 10 years, police in Rio had shot and killed about 13,000 civilians.

/00\ They are taking "thinning the herd" literally!!

So, continueing "this is definitely not a fucking blog" theme; I moved into my new quarters yesterday and realised why there was a cunt with a machine gun guarding the entrance.

I had arranged to call the woman who was renting out the apartment when I arrived at the end of the main road. There, howvere, the dude with the machine gun said I couldn't cuse my phone there. I asked why and he told me it's because it's a fucking boca de fumo (place where they sell weed). I was instructed to go back until I was out of site to make my phone call. Sweet! Everything was sorted and I found out where to buy weed.

This boca de fumo is about 200 metres from a UPP police station; What total bad assery!

I should get internet connected tomorrow.

Weird ass trip my friend. Do be safe

Is their weed any good?

The really important question...

Macdougal wrote:The really important question...

Of course...if they sell crap then its not worth the hassle, but if dem niggas peddle some dank bud? Who could say no to that?

It's certainly not the best I've had nor the worst. After not smoking for six months or so, it certainly left a smile on my dial.