Dear Tom,

I went to the clinic but I was too late. Will you push me down the stairs?

Sincerly,

Sian.

Dear Tom

My bail is set at fifty grand. I could work it off in your bar/restaurant. I promise I've given it up. I mean it this time.

See you soon,

Evilboy.

Dear Tom,

As a fake redhead I require a job to continue paying for my hair dye. Your vague gumtree ad for bar staff will do. I am a couch potato but I will do my best to pour beers for you with minimal head. From my expatriate friend's apartment in Chile I have decided that London is the way to go for I can't speak Spanish. Working at your bar/restaurant/brothel would be my pleasure (and maybe yours too). I used to play the trombone - you know what this means. I'll be good to you, bitches.

Please hire me.

Kisses,

Sian.

Brain of a VIP

I'm back in Santiago. Went for a drive to the snow this afternoon as it was the first rain of the season yesterday. I do all of my big thinking in cars. Here are some of the things I thought:

- "I would quite like to become an expatirot. They seem to spend money frivolously, and you meet lots of important people. Except I wouldn't like to be a wife. I would like to be an important person."

- "That dog has a rabbit in its mouth."

- "We're going to die, we're going to die, we're going to die!" - We drove up a mountain and Trevor was determined not to put chains on the tires. We did eventually, though.

- "That child is shoveling snow into its mouth. Yuck"

- "I wish I had brought my copy of the book Sian is reading" - It's about life in a Bolivian prison. Cocaine and tourists. Called Marching Powder.

As you can tell my brain is full of particularly poignant thoughts at the moment.

Valparaiso.

Saw a man with a skull tattooed on his face. Went to Valparaiso. Spent an hour and a half trying to find a car park - got yelled at by lots of drivers for trying to turn into a one-way street. Ate a gross hamburger. Went to a Karaoke bar. Waxed about Children of the Revolution for an hour in a salsa club. Whinged in a park all day (hungover). Wore clean socks. Ate cheese, salami, crackers and off-tasting olives watching the port of Valparaiso. Sian popped her pimple with a pin. Bought really bad wine for less than $7. Watched Friends and Two and a Half Men for at least three hours. Played Jenga to avoid the TV. Someone called Jorge (hhhore-hay) made us pisco sours with chili flakes. Woke up, saw the rain and left a night early. Walked for forty-five minutes with pack in the rain. Got home, ate blue cheese and poured expensive wine.

Itchy. Bed bugs?

I'm in Santiago with Sian, whom has recently caught the travel bug. She has become a couch surfer convert and is in the process of writing reviews of the people who hosted her in New Orleans. I've been particularly helpful and wrote my own draft of her experience. It's all true and plays an important role in my decision to save for accommodation.


A review of couch surfing hosts in New Orleans:


I enjoyed staying with These People. They picked me up from the airport and from there my time in the south was a hoot! I was so enamoured with the place that I offered to clean up their pittbull's explosive diarrhea, my hosts were so pleased that the smell had abated they placated me with empty promises of a night out.

Unfortunately Sarah is severely depressed about the fact that she is currently unemployed and has developed a severe case of chronic fatigue, which is also related to her severe exchema. This means that she is awake approximately four hours a day. Recipe for a bit of loneliness, but if you free the three puppies from their small cages they will be sure to befriend you.

People seem to have alternative lifestyles in this city. When I arrive they did not provide me with any bedding and seemed entirely uninterested in having anything analogous to what I would consider 'fun'.

Best of all, I finally managed to get the travelers bug. I will forever remember my time spent in New Orleans. Mostly because some of the bite marks will be forever imprinted upon my skin.




Expect a post on South America, but be patient. My main priority is to drink my daily pisco sour.


Hasta luego!

EvilboyinChile.