et tu fais comment pour ne pas être sourde?

i woke up in a subwoofer wrapped in a filthy muddy blanket at 7 am this morning, and realized that i was 3 hours out of town and needed to be on a train at 9:40.

um. what? dammit.

it´s really hard writing a blog entry with one of your avid readers looking at everything you type over your shoulder. quit it, kythe. I MEAN IT I´MMA PUNCH YOU.

so, because i´m a trashbag, i had to buy a new ticket, a bus ticket as there´s only one train a week and i can´t stay yet another week in BsAs, although i would love to as i´m sure you know. we leave at 9 tomorrow for la quiaca which is the last city before bolivia and then we go to santa cruz for the dun dun dun, as my father called it.

oh, and here, when i disappear for 3 days, people call the cops and attempt to file missing persons reports. in montreal, knowing you guys, or maybe knowing me is more appropriate, you´d probably think i was passed out in a ditch. which was actually the case, sorta.

the party was lovely, the music was lovely, i have 10 000 pictures of me with my head in the speaker, and pictures of eyes (!) that i wish i could have gouged out with a spork but the poor thing needs them, i think. my stay in argentina is coming to an end and i can feel it pushing down on my back, i don´t want to leave but there´s always next time. even if my mother doesn´t seem to approve of my choice to travel instead of getting a proper education - diplomas or passport stamps?

um, passport stamps please! because if i don´t do it now, i won´t be able to do it when i´m pushing 60 and retired, it´s just not the same...


dot dot dot

uneventuful night at bahrein spent in the company of two beautiful columbian girls i met at mirko´s last week, but i have to admit i was already feeling kind of blar before even going out so i left fairly early (4 am is early down here). it might also be because barely anyone i know was there, and normally it´s a crazy crazy time, but alas it wasn´t, and it was my last one. oh well.

trying to figure out the best routes to get to do everything i want to do in bolivia in two weeks isn´t easy, but i´ll figure it out somehow. i do want to minimize the time i spend in peru for money´s sake, and also because lima is just so sketchy it´s incredible.

i´m already planning narfette does south amerika: part 2 for next autumn so i can continue my journey. my father told me when i first informed him of what i wanted to do that i was being too ambitious, and now i think he was right. i underestimated the distances, the cost of travelling, and especially that i would fall in love with argentina and stay here for an extra two weeks. my plan is cuando llegará la nieve en montréal... no estaré!

i get to go by purmamarca again (YAY! this time I WILL HAVE A CHARGED BATTERY!) and discover the quebrada de humuhuaca which is on the way to la quiaca. i can´t wait to see the north again, it really is amazingly beautiful, and then be on the altiplano before going onwards to the lowlands and the jungle. what an amazing array of scenery i´ll have gazed upon at the end of this trip!

anyway not much on my front today. BUT, i finally uploaded pictures. hooray! there aren´t a lot as i haven´t been bringing my camera with me everywhere.

carrie, laura, ferg, mouah, mariana and carry

with la towa, the hottest drag queen in all of buenos aires

last night at home with tsunami

my scars are healed! and wow i look tired.


como le encanta la gasolina (dame más gasolinaaa!)

i used to despise reggaeton, and now i think i´ve just gotten used to it, cause if i said i didn´t like reggaeton i´d be a lying piece of oh shi--.

so, i give you the song that´s been stuck in my head for two days.

now, if you´re like me, this song should make you want to shake your flabby, flat, white ass and start humping the air while thrashing around wildly like a mad woman.

if you´re like me you´ll also wonder why the hell le gusta la gasolina.


do not question the meaning behind reggaeton. or beware the wrath of the towel shaking puerto rican.

so in my last week in buenos aires i need to start getting my shopping done (so send in your special requests now or forever hold your peace), maté gourds, the 10 kg of yerba i´ve decided to take along with me instead of my clothes, and also... a new scar! a traditional indigen design, from catamarca, because ever since i discovered the frogs that look like cats on a painting I WISH I COULD STEAL AND HANG IN MY LIVING ROOM, i´ve fallen in love with the imagery. also because scars make me happy and are a nice way to mark my passage through argentina.

i´m going to suffer in bolivia cleaning it, but oh well.

this is the design:

isn´t it hot?

now the question is: to eat a huge slab of provolone, or not?


que linda onda!

ticket for tucumán booked, i leave the black hole that is malos aires on monday at 9 am, accompanied by miss nasty kate. sweet.
the train from palermo to retiro takes you through approximately 2 km of shanties, it´s quite astonishing to see them. nothing in comparaison to peru´s shanties, but still something.

i ran around all day, well actually i waited around all day, for people who never showed because we missed each other, or because i have no patience or probably mainly because i´m really bad at giving indications. sorry, mike, sorry, kythe. i deserve a beating.

while walking from one point ofrendez vous to another i was stopped by a deaf man selling little cards, he pointed at my hair and smiled, and then pointed at my back to ask how long it was, so i took my hair out of it´s messytail and he laughed, and then motioned to my piercings and made the international sign for "you are crazy." it was sweet.
two blocks later, a toothless old man carrying cardboard boxes started asking me if my hair was real, and i explained that it was but wasn´t, and he laughed a big toothless laugh proclaiming that it was the nicest hair in buenos aires (not the first time i´ve heard this) and that it was a linda onda. little things like that make me smile.

leaving monday means i probably will be at next weekend´s party, provided the sound systems don´t end up killing each other first -- sunday morning was an outburst of fighting, cursing and general pissy moods between drop in, kernel panik and OoS. i ended up leaving because i´m on vacation from this bullshit - i have enough drama in my own sound system without having to put up with the drama going on in other people´s. ugh.

i´m going to walk slowly back home and grab a beer and pass out in front of a movie because it seems like the good thing to do.

that is, if i don´t get lost in the mob of people who are currently processing down the street for god knows what reason.


not quite a superboliviana, but almost

well, the reason i´ve been sticking around buenos aires longer, the "big free party que no se suspende por lluvia" (har har) has been postponed... por lluvia! ah, and here i thought we were disorganized wankers, but apparently there´s worse than us...

you´d think when you´ve printed out 10 000 flyers and there´s 30 djs who´ve all come in from various parts of the world and the continent for this party you could find a rainproof spot.... or just move it indoors to cocoliche for the night, i guess that´s ok.

you might stop the party but you can´t stop the lluvia? that´s what it seems like, what with 4 days of rain. oh, a porteño autumn, how lovely.

in any case i can´t afford, time or money wise, to stay another week, although i´d love to, because bolivia awaits, la ruta del ché, santa cruz de la sierra, the (dun dun dun) death train, the salar de uyuni, the rainforest, city of skimask wearing shoe waxing children aka La Paz, ayuhuasca in Cochabamba (Lake titicaca), all of it is there, beckoning out to me... i´ve even started wearing my filipino dashiki-type-garb to prepare myself for the bolivian highlands.

i had originally written one of my artsy fartsy entries on the Road (tm) and how much i was missing it but a power outage caused all the PCs in the locutorio to turn off aaaaaand I lost it.


anyway. this trip, in the beginning, was very beneficial, because i needed to get away from everything and everyone and just be by myself for a while, live my life without really having to think about everyone else, my 4 roommates and whatnot.
after 2 months however, it´s also helped me to realize how much i need these people in my life, because i miss them like crazy... what matters in the end is that they´re my family, even if we fight ad bicker and scream at each other for stupid things like sleeping on floors instead of going to the formule 1 (oh, louis) or money issues (what family doesn´t have this problem?), or silly material possessions. i am proud to be a wanker alongside you guys.

speaking of wankers! one of the people i actually got along with at the point (shudder...) is in town! yes! new people to bug and pester at parties! cause i think the oos guys have reached saturation point. or maybe i´ve reached saturation point.

i´ve been having strange pesadillas lately, mostly weird things about possession or strange spirits and alternate realities and worlds. if all of these things are inside me, i can only wonder what is going to come out when i go see the shaman.

i managed to wander over to the oldest and biggest accordeon factory in all of south amerika the other day, i must admit i had a tinge of hope in my heart that i would find an old used battered 120 for 300 pesos.. what i found there was high ceilings and accordeons on shelves from wall to wall, every size, colour and type imagineable, from accordeon to bandoleon.. but alas, nothing affordable. i did get a free concert thoughm as the fabricant took out a couple and played everything from traditional french to traditional tango as the three women sipping maté at the table behind him sang along. i was in tears!
last night we thought we heard accordeon coming from the room but it was actually the computer, and we tiptoed with a hige knife and opened the door, tears of fear streaming down our cheeks, expecting some spectre to lunge out at us.
what a bunch of drunks!

i waddled over to see the brightly coloured tin houses of la boca, which is actually one big decomposing bario of old buildings in dire need of repair, and 3 streets of cute coloured houses. it´s a poor neighbourhood, supposedly the roughest inside the limits of capital federal buenos aires, where one is not supposed to venture out at night. being who i am with my general disregard for the rules i did the contrary, and hi i´m still alive. mind you i didn´t actually venture in TOO far, cause i didn´t have my guia and it was starting to rain. ah well. next time!

getting to bolivia will take me through córdoba and tucumán, then back up through either jujuy or salta to the bolivian border.
in the spirit of jujuy, i ran into one of the peruvian transsexuals i met on the bus whose face was melting off from the heat! i asked her how she was, and what she was doing here...
"doing what?"
"working. with my friend. for ourselves."

no explanation needed.


la gonche del parrote!

it´s humid as hell although about a metre of rain fell last night (once again turning niceto vega into a river), you can feel it pushing down on you and i kind of wish it wasn´t so hot out because it´s not helping my headache.

went out to bahrein and ran into antoine and marie maud from drop in who i spent quite a few hours talking with, it was weird speaking french i kept throwing in buenos and porkes and other spanish words which much have sounded weird but then again i was really really drunk (doh).
anyway. talked with mm a lot about their trip, the 11 countries they went through, heard their version of stories we heard back hom (the renegade virus brawl, and what have you), what actually happened to seb (was in a car, got jacked, at 3 in the afternoon, they asked him to hand over a cell phone that he didn´t have, and then they shot him WITH HIS KID IN THE BACKSEAT WTF HOW CAN PEOPLE BE SO GODDAMN EVIL?!), discussed montreal ("When I think of Montreal I think of Mutante!" - Antoine), realized that contrary to what we, NTK, believed, they didn´t think we were complete idiots but were rather quite fond of us.
really nice to see those guys, i liked them when they were in town, and they were the 2 i got along with, so i´m happy to see they´re still around.

i don´t want to leave argentina. i really don´t.

but i really want to go to bolivia. and then come back here. and then go to ushuaia and frolick elf styleez with the penguins.


you might stop the party but you can´t stop the pizza

i just spent an hour writing an entry that i thought was top notch, and stupid mozilla crashed and I LOST IT AS I PRESSED PUBLICAR.


coincidentally, my other entry was all about ARG, and how much i love it, even though it makes me angry on some days (i blame that on my raging hangovers and random passer bys raging libidos, hola mami this, dipshit), it makes me really happy most of the time. i mean, how can you not love a city where you can get a slab of cheese on the grill for 2$ and beer is cheaper than water?

oh, and have i mentioned how gorgeous the men are?
the men are gorgeous! albeit BATSHIT CRAZY, slightly misogynistic, and oh so very macho. but like my father said.. what the hell else would you expect from a mix of italians and spanish?

i figure next week i´ll hit rosario for a day, and then jujuy and up to the bolivian border where i can hop a train to vallegrande and then santa cruz, where i´ll take the (dun dun dun) death train not only once, but twice, because doubling your risks of dying is always better in my book, with the lovely miss kythe rawson (yer a nutter, nutter), before hitting uyuni and la paz, lago titicaca and returning to peru. i have exactly one month to do all this.

i figure if i can hitchhike 2500km in 3 days i can do this in a month.

when i look back on my month in argentina i think of so many things, so many wonderful things come to mind, like low laying fluffy clouds and open spaces, ché, boludo, splooge and puntitas, crazy beer filled nights and green-almost-yellow eyes (and as such, elevators, you crazy bastard), sleeping under shooting stars and windy plains, icy water and dolphins; i think of giggling furiously and stripey red dreads, pumping tekno fists and waking up with things written on my leg, chilling winds and scorching deserts, sprained ankles and simultaneous sighs of satisfaction met with bursts of laughter, multicoloured mountains and muddy shoes, street dogs and choripans, dead guanacos and flaming drag queens.

but mostly i think of the love.

so much love. so much at some times i felt i was going to explode. so much love it made my eyes change colour and my face took on an elfish glow down south in ushuaia (<3), so much love in this country, or maybe it was just me that needed to get it all out of my system, i´ve been holding that stuff in me for a while.

i also think of my alfajor sister (she´ll get the joke, will you?) who´s gone now (cry), and that i´m the only trashbag left out on the giant curb that is buenos aires, or malos aires, whichever you prefer, depending on my mood and my state of ebriety, so now who am i gonna hump speakers with?

and carry who has been so amazing, so sweet, opening his home and his heart to me, putting up with my drunken rants and (not-so) mediocre (anymore) castellano and my overconsumption of maté.

i´m totally marrying him. love you cariño, hey you´re sitting next to me in the cyber café fancy that...

oh, and by the way, i have some really awesome friends, specifically mossieu crevette, aka MY NEW FAVOURITE PERSON EVER (tm).
gracias bómbon! i owe you dinner and a (downloaded) movie.

i´m off to spread the (speaker)love.

(and maybe eat a chori. or three.)


i haven´t been up to much, due to lack of money to move around (THANK YOU to the people who donated, you have saved my life from VISA the EVIL).. i was hoping to go to rosario this weekend but it is my trashbag sister´s last weekend so i´m staying on. i´ll go there when i leave for bolivia.

i plan on leaving buenos aires on the 24, giving me about 4 weeks to go through bolivia and get back to lima.

in the meantime i continue living life the porteño way.


ready for... what?

in typical crackwhore class fashion, i was waltzing out of a door when my foot decided it wasn´t happy and promptly bent itself to a 70 degree angle, sending me flying into a mud pit screaming profanities in a mix of castellano and french.

a kind girl came over and i was screaming at her because she kept touching my foot and then i´d start screaming at her, then apologizing, then screaming again until i finally told her to get lost before i killed her because the pain in my foot was blinding all common sense:
"i´m sorry, i´m drunk, i´m in pain, WHAT THE FUCK DON´T TOUCH ME BITCH, oh my god i´m so sorry i didn´t mean it WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DEAF DON´T TOUCH MY FUCKING FOOT!"

oops, i´m really very sweet when i don´t aggravate an old sprain, it´s nothing personal.

i managed to waddle back to the speaker but my foot was throbbing so i decided to curl up under a table and sleep the pain off, which worked somewhat.
i ended up sleeping again and woke up in time for a yummy breakfast (gracias frances) and cow cadaver with potatoes and marek´s cuba libres and BORAT and chic the dog slobbering all over me. sweet.

wandered off to a bar with giacomo and marek and then woke up in kristian´s bed (who left for mar del plata sweeeeeeeeet i have a bed) with a nasty headache that seemed to scream GET ME A CHORI AND SOME JUICE BITCH, which is exactly what i did.

now, i must call my insurance and make sure i don´t have to pay for this and get my foot to a medico before i break it.

also, please send beer monies, food monies, or "we miss you and don´t want you dead so here´s 500$ to get back to peru without hitchhiking or blindly following teknotravelers into la selva" monies... random acts of kindness are always appreciated. MMKAY?


i just prepared a very tasty ratatouille for five very hungry djs, a catalan who knows pulpi and oriol (obvio), a czech from metro sound system, polak and frances from here and an italian whose name i can´t remember for the life of me.

some of them are buying a bus and going to bolivia in a month.

it´s very hard to resist offering to cook for them so i can go with them.

i like that there are so many people converging here in BsAs for the party in two weeks, that we are all from different sound systems and countries but are all incredibly in love with south amerika.

it´s going to be very difficult to go back to canada and live with a sedentary sound system that i love to death, don´t get me wrong, but who i wish would get a move on a little more often.

decisions, decisions.

ponar la bañera

i think that means plug the tub, but i could be wrong.

i have about 150$ left after paying off some of my visa bill (ARGH) for the next month and a half. will i survive? will i manage to crawl back into the dimsal abyss of filth and hell that is lima, peru, in time for my plane?

only tuning in, same blog time, same blog channel, will tell!

so in the meantime, pictures, people.

my dots are sexy.

i miss my dog, and i miss ushuaia.

so much love. is in this picture.

el estrecho de magallanes and tierra del fuego.. goodbye, my love. goodbye.

a sheep on the ferry. who could sense death was near.

my maté consumption is approximately one kilo per week. that´s a lot of yerba.

i ran into a montrealite!

warning: overconsumption of tekno is hazardous to your health.

see what i mean?

crazy nights spent, sunday was very strange, tuesday i drank too much pisco and i think i got woken up by a security guard at bahrein but i can´t be sure, last night i watched the sun rise with ezekiel and woke up with the sound of ferrrrrrg in the house.
tonight.. i could take it easy, but i think i´m supposed to go make a ratatouille for frances and a bunch of austrian freetekno kids.

buenos aires you´re killing me. i love you though, so it´s ok if you eat my brain.



i shed some skin because i´ve shed my skin

i spent 48 hours in 4 buses for 3200km to come back to buenos aires, heartbroken that i was leaving my promised land behind, patagonia, tierra del fuego.. but confident.

i really have shed my skin, i really have found a light to guide me.

so i decided i needed to mark it.

my dear takito, juan, gave me three dots, dermally punched and then the skin was removed, on my forehead.

a new beginning.

i needed to mark it, like a tribal rite of passage, it tells my story. it´s not an aesthetic thing, it´s a memory, and i love it. it´s kind of crooked, but then again so am i, i´m not perfect, and neither are my mods.

i will be staying a while in buenos aires... and then going to bolviia to take the (dun dun dun) DEATH TRAIN. sweet.