The Rain In Spain
So I decided to go visit a friend in Barcelona. Like a week after I did my masters dissertation. This meant running around like a headless chicken for days trying to get everything done to stay at Goofus' house. Goofus is my friend, whose most marking achievement was to throw up from a balcony in the 4th story of a building and have photographic evidence of it.
So the dialogue went kind of like this:
Me: OK I'm going to visit you like you said I could
Goofus: OK you have to pay $N per month
Me: What you don't rent the whole apartment
Goofus: No I rent like a room
Me: Oh... ok
Goofus (4 days later): Oh and $N more as a deposit
Me: ...
Goofus: Oh and I told a friend of mine you'd be bringing him a thing he left
Me: What thing
Goofus: An acoustic guitar and a Playstation 3
Me: ARGBARGGARG *sigh* ok fine
Goofus: OK if it's fine he's tying a -second- guitar to the first one
Me: ARGARGAGRAGRGAR
Do you have any idea how bloody heavy a PS3 is? No wonder it costs seven hundred dollars, it is entirely filled with liquid gold. I had to carry that thing up and down more stairs that I can recall and through more customs offices than I care to recall.
And, of course, these are European customs offices, staffed by ex-elementary school hall inspectors. One of them deftly caught my attempt to smuggle a half-empty 160ml deodorant bottle when the limit is 100ml. (I suspect that this is based on science.) This unfortunately defused the plan to overcome the pilot with minty fresh armpit smell, and I had to do the rest of the trip smelling like a pig sweat factory.
The supposedly dangerous aerosol can was carelessly tossed in a box in the corner. What happens when they catch an actual bottle of explosive?
However I braved all dangers and finally got to Barcelona, land of Gaudi, cheap leather articles, no parking and Gaudi. The airplane movie featured Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson as old people who get sick and then die. I will report things as they come to be reported, but for now, I really miss not having brought the dang cookbook with me.

1 Comments:
You were a PS3 mule? Man, your rectum is never going to be the same again. Incidentally, if you ever come to California, can you bring me a large bag of unidentified plant parts I "accidentally left" in Brazil?
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