maio 25, 2008
Weird game
Garrincha (1933-1983) was one of Brazil's top football stars, second only to Pelé. As a player, he was chased and roughly tackled by defenders. Now, his statue at Maracanã Stadium falls prey to Flamengo supporters (although Garrincha also played for Flamengo, he made his name at Botafogo, a local rival). For the so-called flamenguistas, gently "slapping" Garrincha brings luck.
Posted by david at 12:10 AM | Comments (0)
maio 19, 2008
Unexpected football Top 11
Face it: if you talk "football", you must mean low scores, hooliganism and 22 players running after a ball. That's if you wish to be understood by 95% of the world population.
Next to the border, you’d better get a green card to reclaim the ball from gringos up north.
The rain forest? Kinda weak on defense.
Hardball.
Not about techno.
Only 4 kilometers from the White Mosque, you might play football - yeah, only if you’re a Muslim.
Maybe the finest one.
Well, let’s say you live in a town called “Blowjob”.
Below 0º C, no big deal.
French football, colonial style.
A functioning league, a non-functioning country.
The beautiful game, Flamengo’s tack.
More of the same:
Exibir mapa ampliado
Posted by david at 08:12 AM | Comments (0)
maio 15, 2008
Pillot pen graffiti
Posted by david at 11:48 AM | Comments (0)
maio 11, 2008
Coffin Joe, alive and reporting
Coffin Joe, Brazil's coolest cult horror director, has a TV show of his own. If you don't know who Coffin Joe (or José Mojica Marins) is, I strongly advise you to read this.His style is idiosyncratically primitive Latin American, low budget and highly ingenious, and his filmography counts over 60 films - amongst them several which were under censorship in Brazil for many years.Below, you can catch a glimpse of the debut episode. Unfortunately, there are no subtitles available, but you'll be able to feel the craziness of it all, as Coffin Joe lectures a class of detectives-to-be, in São Paulo.
Posted by david at 12:18 AM | Comments (1)
julho 07, 2007
The news someday
Trendy tribe: In anticipation of access, tribes debate the internet 
Imperial debris (U-20): US sends home a team not worthy of the yellow shirt
Radical transparency: Brazilian ref strips 'til there are no more trappings of power
Posted by david at 01:48 PM | Comments (0)
junho 24, 2007
Ashes to ashes, hoe to hoe
The Mastruz com Leite forró band has tropicalized terrorism.
(Someone) threw a bomb in the cabaret
Pieces of women flew all over the placeThere were so many fragments of hoes flying all over
That one could catch it with a spade, a hoe or a spoon!In the middle of the street were Teresa's arms
In the curbside were Raqué's legs
Over the roof, Maria's hair
In the terrace, the tits of IsabéThen I took it all and stuck it good
(I've) made a mixed hoe - and now every man wants her!You can bomb the cabaret,
That I'll collect the broken hoes
To make another woman!
What about now?
Posted by david at 11:53 PM | Comments (0)
março 18, 2007
Towards a new threshold of embarrassment
Posted by david at 11:55 AM | Comments (0)
julho 07, 2006
For the benefit of Mr. Kim
Posted by david at 02:32 PM | Comments (1)
Taepo's menu
Posted by david at 01:35 PM | Comments (0)
Stencil reaction
Posted by david at 12:00 PM | Comments (0)
maio 08, 2006
Sigismund and after
150 years after Sigismund, there are the ones who still insist on taming the libido of others. Like it ever worked.
1) Teens lie. 2) Pledgers lie more. 3) Born-again pledgers (those who pledge after having sex) lie the most. 4) Pledges fail. 5) We have no idea what works or what the truth is, because all this revisionism makes the data worthless.
There's no escape. In the end, it gets fucked up.
Posted by david at 02:22 PM | Comments (0)
abril 06, 2006
Civilization and its Cariocas
A common feeling to a good deal - I almost say most, almost say all - of my friends, in this blessed province of Rio de Janeiro, is the will to go away. I get myself within this pack; all I need is some extra money and a small town with fast internet. No thinking twice.
It's hard to think of this city, of this state, and see the reasons for the huge optimism related to it. We live in a garbage box. It's no more reasonable to say we're decadent - it's a surpassed stage here. The rottening stinks no more, it's dilluted, ethereal; it sticks to the skin rather than offending the noses.
I abstain from mentioning the signals of this disgrace; whatever can be bad in a city, in a so-called metropolis, is surely to be found in Rio, and worse and in plenty; but whatever is good is rare and accessible to few. And all is even more annoying due to that pack of sissies, er, inhabitants, who believe the world to turn over Rio. Agree, Rio isn't even the preferred destination for perv travellers anymore. Cariocas scream the world is prone to Copacabana, but the world probably forgot Copacabana; and if it did, did very well.
This is not only a Rio's thing, it's a Brazilian thing - this mania of feeling to deserve so much more importance beyond the one it deserves. To be short about it, Rio de Janeiro = dozens of dirty beaches, hundreds of favelas (guess what!), thousands of criminals and millions of gross people. But if we were to be according to public opinion (I mean crap), newspapers (I mean crap), TV (I mean crap), we live in a finger of the paradise. All we have a lot goes like good things for the eyes of our beauty finders.
We only like the soccer's world championship because our team often wins. We had a F1 champion, then we liked it; he's dead, we don't like it anymore. I'm sure if some brazilian buddy won the Paper-Rock-Scissors World Championship it would be considered a most important sport category, around my house.
When the first hurricane reach our rock bottom and destroy one or two towns, it will be talked of as "a sample of our beautiful, wide weather spectre"
Prior to it, I hope I can be elsewhere, baby.
Posted by Igor at 01:20 PM | Comments (7)
Seriously bananas
You may be wondering, but let me put this straight: in the end of the day, with us, you NEVER know.
Posted by pimentel at 11:38 AM | Comments (0)