I spent 4 days of pure HELL in South Beach, Miami Beach, Florida. Flying stand-by to Sao Paulo, and after two days of trying to get on overbooked flights, I gave up, and decided to go to South Beach instead, and fly home in a couple of days. So, gimme my bags. What? My bag is is Rio? Well, I am here. What would have happened if my bag had a bomb in it, Mr. retarded baggage moron? That's right, I would have walked, unsolved crime other to say that the NTSB would chalk it up to the insulation came off of the wires in the wing near the fuel cell, and oh how unfortunate.

I decide to rent a jeep and head to the Pelican hotel. Nice trendy pad, if you're Andy Dick. $150.00 a night gets me a suite with wireless and unlimited car valet. A Brazilian girl also waiting on standy-by on the same flight decides to come with me, and all I have to say about that is THANK YOU GOD.



So off we go into the Ocean Drive nightlife. First stop is the Cleveland club. I'll have a double southern comfort on the rocks, and what ever Miss Universe would like, oh, and a pack of Marlboro please. "That'll be $84.00" WTF? She's got a Mojito and I've got a double with a pack a smokes! 84.00 fucking dollars? Oh, you mean pesos, reals. No, she meant dollars.

"Don't worry" the bartender said "the drinks are magical!" Ooooooooook. She came back about 20 minutes later and said "See! They disappeared! Vanished! I wanted to punch her in the jaw, but I am sure Miss Universe would look down on such a barbaric act. You know, I don't need anger management - I need insanity around me management. 10mgs of Valium usually does the trick, but I am all out.

The doormen at Mango's were such assholes and the line so long, we didn't even bother. Miss Universe wants to walk on the beach - well, it's about time! Holding hands, she leads me up to the life guard shack so we could have some quality time, but we woke up some Hatian dude who already had dibs on the place and boy was he pissed. So we went back to the hotel and had sex like regular people.

The next day she decides she has to go home, so I reluctantly bring her back to the airport so she can get back in the standby list again. After some huggin' and kissin' we say our goodbyes and I go see if my bag came in yet. Of course it didn't. So I drive back to south beach - and wouldn't you know it, no dockers and polo shirts to be found - anywhere. I wound up walking into some woo-hoo fashionista shop on Washington Avenue, and some gay dude started decking me out in all the latest. Now I look like the guy in Grand Theft Auto: Vice City, but I don't seem to have all his magical powers.

I spent the rest of the night picking fights with valets, doormen, and I went to that disco way up the road where there are nothing but chicks on the dance floor and the Village People are dancing on the stage. I try to pull out the bazooka and wipe them out, but it looks as if all I have is my fist left. I typed "fannymagnet" on my pda, but nothing happened. I decided to go back to the Pelican, and call an escort (I was hungry, and I thought maybe she would have a sandwich in her purse) and setup my wakeup call for the next day, so I could finally come home.

Wasn't the trip I was planning, but I was in Sampa with Moondog, CC, and Sandman in Spirit, and I managed to get some top-shelf poontang in the process.

We missed ya buddy but it sounds like you made the most of it

Damn, You did well my friend. Glad to see you made the best of it. CC could not make it, maybe another time. We will do this again at a better time.

She is a beautiful girl.

Sao Paulo trip report to be posted later tonight.

D-
I too and sorry I didn't get the chance to meet you. Looks like you made it work in Miami.....nice!
Another time we must cross paths.
Turf