Archive for February, 2009

Somebody kill me


Feeling like death warmed up this morning. Last night I was very excited to check out a large outdoor club near the mountains, I imagined the booze flowing, the girls dancing, the electronic music pumping.

Instead, the booze flowed far too hard (pouring warm fernet into my mouth and chasing with coke – disgusting) to start the evening, I don’t remember anything about the club or any girls, and I spent most of the night sitting and puking, followed by getting kicked out.

I also remember asking Vicki from the language school for a hug, then the French girl with a boyfriend for a hug. They both looked at me like I had some terrible flesh eating disease.

Absolute and utter failure. I will attempt to sleep off this awful feeling, and have a fun night tonight without getting smashed.

Thoughts on Cordoba – 2 Weeks Later

  • Women: I could go on and on about the women here. They wear these revealing cotton tanktops and I swear they nearly all have beautifully formed bouncy sets of babyfeeders. It must be tough becoming an old woman in this city. The young girls are mind-numbinglybeautiful… They look like ice-queens as they walk around the city, but if you actually talk to them, the girls are pretty friendly. At least the ones I’ve met, usually in nightclubs, or “boliches”.
  • Food: For a country influenced by Italy, the pizza here is sub-par…. everyone eats meat, it’s cheaper than pork or chicken…a good bottle of red wine costs $3USD…
  • Hospitality: Everyone shares food/drinks here. It’s considered rude to be drinking or eating in front of someone and not share with them. This equates to being offered to drink from other random strangers’ cups of beer whenever I go out. I almost always partake. The passable-by-mouth-disease proliferation rate here must be pretty high.
  • Beer: Why is BUDWEISER so popular here? Curses!
  • Dogs: More homeless dogs than people.
  • Che: Che, boludo? is how people greet eachother.
  • Temperature: It’s February – the heat is almost intolerable right now. January is the hottest month.
  • Spanish classes: I enjoy them. I am getting better at understanding what people are saying. I still need lots of practice, and I could use some flashcards.

Going to an upscale nightclub in the mountains tomorrow night! Will remember to take photos and video!

Wow these people are nice.


My first evening out in Cordoba, and I can say that the people I met were so friendly that they bordered on gay. I was chodeing out for a little while after my Israeli hostel friends abruptly left me alone, then finally grew the courage to talk to an unbelievably cute slender young creature with bangs. I asked her “Why aren’t you dancing?”, she responded by waving her finger at me. I mimicked her, stayed in front of her, and we began to talk. “Where are you from…etc.” She begins speaking to me in English, then her boyfriend arrives over, I shake his hand, he offers to buy me a beer. I buy my own drink, we continue chatting, his girlfriend invites me to her birthday party next week. (What the faaack?)

This was after one of 2 random dudes who were also unfortunately choding out, asked me if I wanted their unused ice in my Heineken. I did not. This then became the one dude offering to show me around Cordoba a following night. They left when I was hunting for someone to dance with unsuccesfully, so that probably won’t happen.

Anyway – I know from Roosh that “Social Circle” is important in Cordoba and I am happy to say that I have apparently made some friends tonight, and plan on going to that girl’s birthday party next week.

On the way back from the club, as I was walking, some dude says something to me in spanish including ‘hermoso, maravilloso’ (beautiful, marvelous) and tells me to follow him and his friend. Eh… thanks but no thanks, but hey, gay or not, these people sure are friendly.

Cordoba Day One: Roosh was right.


The pretty ladies in Cordoba have a very similar style to those in Spain. Skinny frames, flowing waves of hair the colors of acorns and licorice, generally covered up, even in the sweltering heat. They are quite beautiful in general. They also would rather stare at the crumbling sidewalks or the dried up dog doo than look into the face of your strikingly handsome narrator.

Perhaps this is a good thing, as I’ve had girls who have stared right at me, or smiled at me in the past, and I nearly always just let it slide, giving my fragile ego glowing gold star.

Tonight I plan to hit the bars out here with some hostel types. I will drink several Quilmes and ask the slender spanish bonitas if it’s true that they are the most warm and inviting girls in Latin America. I will then wait for them to give me a disgusting look as they flash their clear eyes and whip me in the face with their flowing mane as they immediately change direction.

2 Weeks in Costa Rica, Next up, Argentina


I spent the last two weeks in Costa Rica. I’m now awaiting my flight to Cordoba, Argentina.

What I like most about Costa Rica is the laid-back lifestyle of most of its inhabitants, $1.75 beers, pristine beaches, and of course the unbelievably beautiful Costa Rican girls.

Let’s talk about the girls for a moment.

The typical Costa Rican girl has smooth, long, shiny and straight black hair that gracefully rests atop a colorful tanktop of some sort. Their pants are form-fitting, and 85% have beautiful, round bubble bottoms, excluding my tica ex-girlfriend, who did not have such a bottom without the aid of really tight jeans. The ladies seem to enjoy those bug-eyed sunglasses, which I am eagerly awaiting for that particular style to fade away.  (You can never get a good idea of a person’s face when their sunglasses blocks half the surface area.)

As far as picking up Costa Rican girls goes, and their general sexuality, unfortunately I didn’t have any success during these couple of weeks. I met a few cuties at a coastal festival in a very warm town full of young girls. The problem is these girls are nearly all 17 or under. I grinded with this one girl all night, but she was so shy and timid, stroking her ponytail constantly as she ‘backed it up’, and of course I found out later that she was 16. Repeat that story about 5 times and you’ve got a good idea of the state of affairs in Santa Cruz. The city girls will give you the eye, I wasn’t sure if it was my white skin or if they wanted to jump me, and I didn’t find out. One girl in particular was eye-fucking me at an Italian Restaurant while I was eating a delicious plate of Pasta Matriciana and cup of red wine, but that was as far as it went.

Now I eagerly await Argentina. I’ve heard that the girls play very hard to get in the beginning and are shy to kiss or dance too close at first. I found this out myself last weekend at Tamarindo Beach, the 4 tan girls wouldn’t grind. However, we sweatily danced the night away, I drunkenly showed off my salsa moves with each one of them, and even had the girl with interest isolated when her friends started back to their hostel without her. I exchanged e-mails and gave kisses on the cheek. When I’m in Buenos Aires I’ll reconnect so they can flake on me.