Back in BA

I chucked my bag on and took the fuck off from Milhouse, sin una remera de "I survived milhouse". No me gusta y no quiero. I grabbed a subway out to Palermo and got out my Lonely Planet book to find somewhere to stay. Great. Big blond tall cunt with a backpack on and a lonely planet book in hand. Surprised to find not a problem. No pasa nada. I ended up getting lost enough to know my way around Palermo before I found my hostel. It was "Back in BA" and had an extremely nondescript entryway, as most hostels seem to have. I rang the bell to the reply of "Hola"

Parkour and Zombies

My head was an absolute whirl with the changes of the last few days. From tranquil familiarity to alien hecticity. The city bore a striking resemblance to Mega City 1 with its barrio-blocks and slum towers. I felt the oppressive grasp of sandstone brick skyscrapers, squeezing me into the street like long stony fingers. I immediately set out to do something awesome with this new environment.

Parkour.

Milhouse Avenue

I didn't realize when I booked this one exactly how it be. I thought to myself that yeah I can deal with having a fair few beers, but this was five nights of nothing but piss and party. There was two blokes in the room: Daz, a carrot top Aussie who was the classical 'not going to learn your language but I'm going to be extremely Australian and if you don't like it go get fucked' type, and yet somehow he was kind of a good bloke who I could have a laugh and kick around with. The other one, Dicko, was a kiwi with a penchant for powder and a beard like a champion, and a more amiable kinda guy but had a shitty side that came out every now and then. Dicko and Daz. Daz and Dicko. You know what you're in for there.

Welcome to South America

Well, this is going back a fair way. Have been in SA for three months right now. I'll try to recount things as relevantly and succinctly as I can but there's a lot to catch up on. But it's a pretty awesome story so far, with some pretty awesome characters.