Fancy dress…

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Good morning folks

I trust you had a spiffing weekend and that you are in top form.
Here is the nonsensical weekly round-up of ramblings that I call the Monday morning Superclunk.com blog…

Fancy dress time!

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Halloween is not that big here, but as of last Halloween, it marks the date of a BIG session!

One of the lads suggested a fancy dress night out last Halloween, there was no set theme so we had Spiderman, Jack Sparrow, The Hoff turn up amongst others. As fancy dress is not that big here, we did get noticed!

It was such a great night out that somebody suggested we do the same thing every 6 months, so whilst Halloween is a time when you can get away with wearing fancy dress round the Boozers, the last Saturday in May has no significant dressing-up significance. Again, with no theme so Paul Stanley, Woody from Toy Story and a pirate were to be seen tippling around Miraflores.

So, again with no theme, this Saturday was a session-&-a-half for Betelgeuse, Dracula, a Mexican Mariachi, a Pirate and zombie Elvis, chasing the happy hours round Calle Berlin before taking over the stage in Sargento Pimiento’s. The music was spot-on and despite raising the average age of the club by 25 years, we lasted until 3am.

Roll on 25th of May 2019 :-)

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The silence is shattered.

It has been a bloody l-o-n-g week!

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Work is the one thing here (apart from my mates) which keeps me sane.
Lima is a cauldron of chaos, but our temporary residence within Unife (a Catholic all-girls university) is generally an oasis of calm. Until this week…

I got to work on Monday to see that a stage had been erected. The students always seem to have some fair or otherwise going on, but this looked bigger, especially the speakers!

Around 2pm, suddenly the windows started vibrating to the bass of the Monsters of Rock size sound system. It was the final week of the cycle leading to the final exams, which coincided with party week at Unife and the volume/bass kept going up & up & up & UP…

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Now, complaining about the music of the youth of today is definitely the sign of being a cantankerous old git, but the diabolical bilge otherwise known as “reggaeton” is lower than a dead-dingo’s-ding-a-ling, it is absolute crap. Originally from Puerto Rico, it is a bit like hip-hop squeezed through a voice distorter (a bit like Cher did, she has a lot to answer to) with heavy, heavy bass and generally sexual lyrics. (“Hit me, hit me and not with your rhythm stick”, a bit ironic in these surroundings). It is omnipresent in Latin America and heard all day, every day, especially on the combis (diddy mini-buses).

On Wednesday there was a 10 minute interlude which gave me hope when a band started playing a Strokes track, then some Radiohead song but which barely raised a tumbleweed response, then the volume was cranked up to 11 again and the first bar of some reggaeton bobbins got an ear shattering scream off the crowd. An awful realisation that people actually like this garbage!

Friday was the big party and I walked out shaking my head, muttering under my breath.
I sometimes wonder just why I am here…

Burnt (out)…

Last Saturday I got caught out by the sun in the cerros and got sunburnt to a crisp, like a complete idiot. Up until the age of about 20 I used to tan in the sun, since then I just seem to get burnt, go red, go pink and go white again! I normally slip-slap-slop, but just got caught with my pants down and forgot the sunblock.

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This was the worst I’ve ever had, I couldn’t sleep for 4 days, then my blisters burst and I am now just a peeling mess. Idiot!

No such happenings this weekend.

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I had an appointment on 10am on Friday, which I had arranged the week before and I confirmed it Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. 10am and no sign of my appointment happening so I texted and got the standard local response sequence.
1) ??? Was it today?
2) I am on my way.
3) I am close.
4) I am stuck in traffic.
5) Can we make it tomorrow?

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So, with a 9:30am re-hash for Saturday, I had to be up and out in the hills by 5am, home by 8:30am and my appointmentee rocked up at 10:30am. Timekeeping is never a priority here.

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Anyway, with just 3 weeks now until the El Misti race, I am entering panic mode.
Next weekend I am heading up to Yungay, into the Andes for some high altitude beasting by my mate, Charlie. Watch this space…

Red Tape.

9:30 am on Wednesday saw us at the British Embassy for an appointment, to have a very expensive signature on a piece of paper, after chasing round town for various bits of paper, this was to have been the final jigsaw piece (he said hopefully) for the Nipper’s UK passport renewal, only for us to be rebuffed with a “We don’t do that anymore” response from behind the glass partition. Where to next then?

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For 24hrs, the emails were pinging backwards and forward to various government institutions and hopefully we have now cracked it. I won’t be counting my chickens nor singing hallelujah until I have the passport in my hand though.

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Red mist!!!

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Saturday was a busy old day, being up for 23.5 hours is a long stint!
I had a naive notion that I could snatch a half-hour kip before going out, but Bob the Builder and his mate started drilling and hammering just as I was about to get my head down, so those plans were quickly scuppered.

I am trying my best to not rise to conflict situations, but there are a (high) number of idiots who test me on a daily basis.

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I was crossing the road when an old bloke started shouting at me for not using the pedestrian crossing. (There was a pedestrian crossing, but no lights, so although it may look like a zebra crossing, it was just a waste of white paint, as nobody stops there). The lights were on red and the traffic was stood still, so I gave him some travel advice, which sent him into even more of a rage! It wasn’t even a Lima-two-step style crossing, I ask yer…

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Then, an hour later, in the supermarket, an old bloke and a woman accused me of pushing in, which I completely didn’t. I was with the Nipper and had 3 items and they had a trolleyful. The people around were starting to look at us, so I backed down, which almost killed me.
Queuing is not really a national pastime here.
Let it go, let it go, let it go.
Ommmmm…..

Volcanic Businessman

Raiders round-up…

BIG news this week with a BIG signing for the Shipbuilders, possibly one of the biggest signings ever!

Gareth Hock, ex International and ex-Wigan forward.

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An incredibly talented player, with an incredibly shaded past! More chequered than a chess board shop.

A two year ban for testing positive for cocaine in 2009 and then booted out of the international squad in 2013 for missing a training session, after sleeping in, after a booze-up.

So, will he make a difference at Barrow?

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Providing he stays clean, his superleague experience and ability to fire up the team in the dressing room/on the pitch will definitely help the club, if he stays off the gear and out of trouble.

Watch this space…

And finally…

If you have studied the Intermediate 10 cycle, you will know the story of the man who swapped a red paperclip for a snow globe for a door handle for a neon sign for a part in a film for a house! True story.

The same guy once bought the entire contents of a shop owned by a man called Hercules, that was in imminent danger of closing down, this is the VIDEO.

Renews your faith in human nature.
(The receipt could be yours if you fancied parting with $18,871.93!)

That’s all for now folks.

Have a mighty fine week.
Cheers
Johnny, Lina and the Nipper.

 

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