Tag Archive: fire

Sorry I’m Late

Yes, late I am.

Nap-fu practice is eesential after lunch.

I am late because I stopped to watch this while downtown this morning.

I had grandstand seats

I had grandstand seats

The Corpo dos Palhacos Bombeiros (clowns, Firemen) were there, late, but they got there, it was such a circus.. They had no more idea how to fight a fire than I do of flying to then moon.

Now, I am not a trained firefighter, although, I have done several courses while in the air force on basic and advanced firefighting first aid. My walking stick has more idea of fighting fires than they do.

Firstly, they parked the fire tender in the wrong place. Secondly, they should have torn down the plastic façade which would have given them direct access to the seat of the fire. Thirdly, they ran out of water and the tender had to go away to get more. It was 45 minutes later that they discovered there was a water source in the mall opposite. Fourthly, it was sadly hilarious to watch two of them try to figure out how to oparate an extension ladder, they had no idea.


By the time all this was done, the fire took hold.

The futile comedy of errors resulted in this

The futile comedy of errors resulted in this

This gave  me a much needed respite after walking, walking downtown. I felt guilty sitting there watching while I had a deserved cigarette.

Why was I walking?

Good question, Last night I happened to mention my plans to learn the art of sushification. One student on hearing that I was going to go to Mundo Verde (Green World) for sushi making supplies, told me of a small shop nearer to downtown that sold stuff cheaper than MV. I found said shop, and indeed it did have cheaper nori (seaweed) than MV; R$9 as opposed to R$25. The internet of all things bright and beautiful informed me there was an MV near the supermarket; it was only three bloks away, so off I went. I arrived huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf… where was the MV? Only in Calçadão (downtown pedestrian street), I was informed…. I had just come from there.


So off I hobbled, that was when I saw the smokey beginnings of the fire. I paused for a well earned rest and obligatory cigarette. I watched the show for an hour, and continued on my way.

Passing by various shops including the MV, they had next to nothing,  and supermarket, then the restauarant for lunch and eventually home.

Certainly more excitement than your average day orff.

The net result of my excursion was that I arrived home with enough makings for a practice sushi run.

Last night I was reading horror stories.

Yanagibabocho, second from top

Yanagibabocho, second from top

In an endeavour to get things right, I was perusing sites that sold sushi knives. A hand-forged steel yanagibabocho can set you back $2,600, so after looking for something suitable, I found a Brazilian knife that hopefully will do the trick for R$6.90… Yeah, I know, I’m tight fisted. But I figured that I was fighting salmon, not some enraged Samurai.

At the supermarket, I found pieces of frozen salmon suitable for the trick. I also got some black and white sesame seeds and some cream cheese.

My mornings shopping looked something like this.

Sushi making paraphernalia

Sushi making paraphernalia

The half kilo (1lb) of shortgrain rice was the most expensive item, what you see set me back R$50. The special bamboo bowl for mixing the rice was another R$170… meanwhile I will use a plastic mxing bowl.

I’m ready to begin my adventure.

Now the question is… Can he do it?

I have decided that if my efforts look remotely like sushi, I will take them to the botequim to share. However, if I produce a dismal failure, I’ll tuck my tail between my legs and eat at home like a whipped cur.

An exciting and somewhat frustrating day.


Picking Peppers

One of my modest chili pepper bushes

I grow chili and cayenne peppers in my small modest garden. I love to watch them grow, first green, then orange and then finally fire red.

Today, I had crops from both bushes ready for harvesting.

There is one important fact that one must bear in mind picking peppers; wash your hands before having a pee.

I learned this the hard way.

In NZ we don’t have chili nor cayenne peppers, at least I have never seen them there. We have the capsicum (bell pepper), but not the hot varieties.

It wasn’t until I came to Brazil that I met ‘real’ peppers.

Brazilians have a jar or bottle of pimenta malageta (chili peppers) in olive oil on the table at every meal (breakfast excluded) much as we westerners have a pepper shaker with white pepper.

Our smoker

Our smoker

But it was in Bolivia, c1999, that I learned my lesson. I was a cook in an American BBQ restaurant called Cowboys  in a small plaza in Santa Cruz de la Sierra.

We served great smoked ribs and various other dishes; one of which was hot beans. We smoked our own meat and cooked our own beans. The beans called for a bag of dried peppers in a 30 litre pot. I’m not sure what kind of peppers, but they were about 8cm (4″) long and they were added to the pot during the cooking.

Soon after adding the peppers to the pot I needed relief. No problem, the beans were on a simmer, so off to the bathroom.

It was soon after my return to the kitchen, that I began to get a strange sensation in the lower region. This strange feeling began to intensify gradually until it was evident that my manhood was on fire.

I soon realised what I had done.

I tried washing the affected parts, I tried cold water, I tried ice cubes in my underpants while dancing in a demented frenzy around the kitchen all the while trying to keep a steady supply of dishes for the dining room. Believe me, that’s no easy task when you are more worried about your manhood than food; and whether it will ever function again.

My boss, who doubled as barman and waiter, caught me dancing a fire maddened fling around the kitchen. I explained the reason for my antics, and he left the kitchen with the ready dish laughing his head off.

I, however, didn’t think it was funny, not in the least.

The kitchen closed at midnight, I had spent an agonising six hours, and then I limped home, a twenty minute walk, a much wiser man, with a still warm, tingling sensation in the nether regions.

My advice to any man who handles raw peppers, WASH YOUR HANDS BEFORE GOING FOR A PEE!

Must blog along.


Blowing off Steam

Old boiler

Old boiler

There are times when I feel like an old boiler, sitting here at the keyboard slowly rusting.

I don’t get out and about much, and the feeling of being a hermit flashes across my mind; not often but it has flashed and while it doesn’t induce feelings of despondency, nor lead to depression (can’t understand depression, but then I drink coffee) it does make me think.

I do get out of the house, sometimes I have to force myself, even if it is just to the botequim (local bar) next door. I don’t go there to drown my sorrows, that’s for fools, I go for the fresh air, for a gaze over the park, or a chat.

Like yesterday, I poked my nose out the gate and there at the bar was a good friend whom I hadn’t seen for months. Grace had had a cancer operation on the throat, and even though I pass her house everyday on the way to work, I had only seen her once. So it was a pleasant surprise to see her at the botequim again; our chatting started basically where we had left of months ago, except over fresher beer.

Fire in the Hole!

Grace and her friend left, and I began to chat with another pair sitting at the table at the other end of the veranda. One of whom I had seen before, the other, never. The younger woman was quite chatty, much younger than my foggy years, quite comely in fact, making nothing more of the thought as we talked. The younger woman was in fact a little older than my initial estimate, early/mid twenties; she was actually 31, which made her exactly half my age.

Maybe twenty minutes passed and the older woman had to go and they made to leave. It was about then when I became confused. I stood to get another beer, and some how the woman was in my arms as we said good bye… her saying she’d be back in ten minutes.

I sat nursing my beer, trying to make sense of things, and within a Brazilian woman’s 10 minutes, she was back.


Fire in the boiler


But I have been single for five years, I haven’t been paquerando (hunting) for some time, and I was out of my depth.

Maybe there’s fire in the old boiler yet?

Now I sit here still trying to make sense of the afternoon.

Any way, that’s why you didn’t get a post yesterday, affairs of the boiler (I’m too old to have a heart).

Moving right along.

Neymar 1 - Japan - 0

Neymar 1 – Japan – 0

Today is the kick off for the Confederation’s Cup, yes football. Brazil vs Japan in Brasilia, the capital. TV is full of it, hype, interviews, opinions from the street, coverage of the demonstration over the cost of the event. Palpites (estimates of the result) between 3-3 and 0-0, one even guessed Neymar 1 – Japan 0. Neymar is probably Brazil’s No.1 up and coming star, just having been signed on for Barcelona.

So it’s big business. Games starts at 4pm, that’s a couple of hours away.

The hype all happens again tomorrow, Italy vs Mexico here in the revamped Maracanã.

I have had lunch, a heavy beef curry on rice. Now I suppose I should get out of my pyjamas and go along to the bar to see what’s happening.


I’ve even forgotten the title

Monday wasn’t too bad, this week it’s Tuesday that’s getting to me.

Nothing had irked me sufficient to post on my Monday Moaning on Eco-Crap, so I didn’t.

Very little has actually been happening.

They’ve found a large prehistoric snake, man started using fire 300,000 years earlier than previously thought.

Mitt Romney is still an idiot. Actually, he doesn’t have the credentials to qualify for idiocy. The Royal Canadian Bank has been caught selling its bad debt back to itself to make it look good. al-Bastard in Syria has given himself another 10 days in which he can freely slaughter civilians. There has been another shooting in another American college, makes you wonder whether there’s a major on this. Obama is still trying to convince the Mexicans not to decriminalise drugs. Burma did well in the elections, but it is still ruled by the military.

And the most important news in the US media is that a 93 year old grandmother has given up driving according to mainstream media sources.

Well, isn’t that just all ducky?   <——— Rhetorical question.

The coffee has kicked in.

One lesson tonight at 5:30, yesterdays were cancelled, tomorrows are cancelled and I’m not sure yet about Thursday, he’ll let me know. Then it’s Good Friday.

There’s an oxymoron, they call it Good Friday… wasn’t that the day Jesus was crucified? Can’t see anything good about getting piercings with six inch nails and thorns.

Like I said, very little has been happening.

BTW the T-shirt was sent to me by Small Footprints, she recognises my affection for the brown liquid.

I found some fancy flowers at work. I had no idea what they were and appealed as such on Eco-Crap. Small Footprints (as above) came to the rescue and made an old man very happy.

Damn caption adding thingy not functioning, so… They are cannonball tree flowers.


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