The Mocréia and Rider
In the place where I caught the "charter" to go take care of my own life every afternoon, a busy intersection in a certain avenue of São Paulo, it always does some kind of bizarre incident. And since I'm a lucky guy, of all people who take the same bus at the same time, usually bizarre hit me like a lightning rod.
Last week, I can not remember the day, nor do I care, here is what happens most of them. You know those pretty ugly women, there the kingdom of mocreônicas disenchanted? Those that make Fiona feel a miss? Those with maloqueira face, and the stench of maloqueira maloqueira way? So here's this lady pleaded with me, and used the most beautiful words of his extensive vocabulary.
Yes, my dear, people who were there can attest to that.
Finally, after losing the opening two signs in her monologue, she finally crossed the street swears eternal revenge.
For a few days passed, and on Thursday last whom I turn up there in the same bat-time? The same, this time together and just looked at me and laughing that it was a pleasure.
Behold, yesterday, Friday 13th, after a week of work, cloudy weather, bad traffic, etc, etc, etc, were to comment:
"Wow, you're giving the time of the bus and nothing happened bizarre today, that thing!"
As if by magic, there is a bike toward us, and who was on the back? Herself. This time accompanied by her supposed husband searching for the male who moved with his wife.
More huh!?
The distinguished gentleman, seeming to have been literate, argued with two or three grunidos he wanted from the face of the bastard who messed with his wife in the street. I tried to tell him that his mocréia, say pinel wife was, but then I realized that his single neuron was half-duplex, gave up and regretted having spent 4 or 5 seconds of my life with it. I turned to the direction from where would the charter and left him talking to himself.
The young man went away vowing revenge and vowing to stalk to see if anyone could shake up his wife again. He would have given us a lesson, leaving all blurring by its Corgem, bravery and virility. The mocréia was with him, fuck in his hip, could handle while laughing.
I wonder:
- Friday, after a full week's work, with little sleep, have yet to hear it? I? Stir with mocréia on the street?
- I'm in no time even to read books that I carry in my backpack or a decent update the blog, I'll spend my time with bikers and boilers equipped with IQ and mental age of a digit?
- Caceta, which leads alaguém to be so clueless to the point of approaching a stranger on the street and go tell the hubby? Worse, it takes someone to be so clueless, able to stop what you're doing to go get satisfaction with a stranger on the street?
Do not surprise me if two people are from the same level and work things out on the bullet.
When I came to Sao Paulo everyone told me I would be robbed, murdered and massacred at the first corner, and the first violent incident after nearly three years was a guy in a helmet with a CG mocréia trying to bullying? WTF? I'm disappointed. I expected more of.
The people who ride a bus, there was even afraid of being gunned down, kidnapped, called the Corinthians or something, ui!
If by chance they appear again and not trucidarem us, we will post photos and / or videos of the couple, so you have a sense of what is meant by "maloqueiro."
Comments
- Edward
- Edward
- http://blabos.org blabos
- http://blabos.org blabos
- Khaoz
- Khaoz
Translator
