Archive for February, 2010

LMR or Last Minute Resistance. What to do?


2 of my last 3 sexual encounters have been bogged down with Last Minute Resistance. So I am trying to figure out what the hell I am doing wrong.

The first girl was in Ouro Preto. She wasn’t that hot, and she was all over the God all night. I had made out with her friend right in front of her and she still wanted to kiss me. Her friend, a dude, gave me the “go for it” gestures as well.

When we walked down the windy path to my hostel, she was saying how she couldn’t believe she was “doing this.” So I had to keep saying things like “We’re just going to talk and kiss.” In general, I believe, you have to make the girl feel comfortable – baby steps. When we were in my bed I’d say things like “We’re only going to do what you feel comfortable with” and such. It took way too long to get her top off, and I’d say my main keys to success that night were: she was drunk, and I turned the lights off. I also went down on her after her pitiful BJ, which had her ready to “feel the God”.

The other big point is she told me say to her “Quero-te Julyiana” or whatever her name was. Girls want to be told that you want them and think they’re hot, etc. This is always tough for me if I don’t actually think they’re hot. But shit, I’ll tell her I DVR Women’s Lifetime movies if it means she’s about to slob the knob.

The second girl was this brown haired older girl I had hooked up with for 2 nights for hours on end during Carnaval. We went away together for a night to the beach. I came out of the shower when we first got there, in my towel, expecting to hook up. She wanted to go meet friends and go to the beach. Fine. Later on after the beach the same bullshit. She takes a shower after me and exits with all of her clothes on(!).

I finally realize I will wait for later in the night when hopefully there is some booze and some darkness involved. Turns out she can’t drink because of medicine for her busted up ankle that she fucked up while walking around during Carnaval. I drink a beer, we hook up, and she says she won’t have sex. She says she can’t, that I am leaving for New York eventually and she doesn’t want to hurt herself. This one is hard to battle. I tell her the usual “live in the moment, not in the future” type of stuff, I tell her no relationship is final. It doesn’t work though. I didn’t freeze out on her, I just took the handies and her ear sucking. It wasn’t awful. I would have liked to bang because she had a nice “buseta”.

The question is, what could I have done differently? Why are these girls who appear to like me a whole lot holding out on me? Should I be freezing out/”breaking rapport”? Since this entry was written I slayed a dark skinned girl at a love motel in Rio. She was on her period. I am a pretty gross human being. Why am I writing this in a public blog again?

What Makes a Good Travel Partner?


Why D Makes a Good Travel Partner, and What to Look For in a Travel Buddy

D and I have traveled together in Argentina and Brazil. Brazil was for 1 month, which is a long time sharing close quarters with someone. So why has it worked out so well, and what can we learn when choosing a friend for a road trip, eurotrip, or other?

- Be who you are with no games or tongue-in-cheek apologies. This is big. D and I are pretty honest about ourselves and eachother. I try to not sugar coat things and I expect the same from him.

- Similar sense of humor and music. We have a similar sense of humor. This can’t be created from air, and I have a couple friends who I think I’d blow my brains out if I had to share close quarters for more than a couple days. If I think you’re lame or your music sucks, it’s going to be hard to have to deal with that 24/7. D and I have lots of inside jokes and running jokes, and we continue to add new ones. Sense of humor is a must.

- We push eachother. The most clear example is chatting up girls. I can be pretty shy. D pushes me to go for it. When it works, I’m grateful for it.

- Alone time is understood and implied. When you travel with someone you should have a day off every once in a while. If the construct becomes one guy relying on the other all the time, this gets tiring. If one person is a great planner and the other is great at meeting new people, then use your indiividual strengths to get the most out of the trip.

- We’re fair to eachother. I remember when traveling with my very good friend J he would always jump on the biggest bed in the hotel rooms we rented. This started to get annoying, and had it happened continually may have led to fights.

- We don’t cockblock eachother.

- We don’t antagonize eachother. (That much.)

Carnaval in Diamantina, Brazil. What was it like?


Last year when I was traveling Argentina I met all kinds of hostel types. They were usually pretty homogenous, following the same lonely planet trail, with the same stories, and the same questions such as “How long have you been traveling?” and “Where have you been thus far?” They quickly wore me out. However, I was always intrigued to meet the individuals who planned on going to Brazil for Carnaval. It was usually the same story “Oy mate, I’m going to Rio for Carnaval, should be amayzin’.” While they partied in Brazil that year, I was drinking fernets in Cordoba. I kissed a couple girls in Argentina including what I thought was a sure-lay with bad logistics and no knowledge of love motels in Buenos Aires. I’m not complaining though, I loved Argentina.

Fast forward to a year later. My friend D from SF convinces me over Vietnamese food in NYC to head to Brazil instead of yet another trip to comfortable, familiar Costa Rica. We begin traveling together, and decide to spend Carnaval in Diamantina. We find a “republica”, or basically a co-ed frat house, on a Google search, wire the money from a bank in Belo Horizonte, and consider ourselves set for a week of orgies.

Once in Diamantina, we find that the Republica doesn’t appear to exist. No one on the street, Rua do Rosario, has ever heard of the Republica, named “Quase Amor” or “Nearly Love”. Great. We’ve been scammed. The locals shake their heads at us, and tell us wire fraud is common in Brazil. Luckily a friendly kid in the pirate taxi we took from BH lets us shack up with him at his republica. Tulio was his name, and he hooked us up bigtime with parties, beer, and food. I doubt he ever finds this blog, but BIG props to Tulio, you and your roommates were chill as shit and just more examples of how friendly Brazilians can be.

D and I return to Rua do Rosario the next day and still can’t find the republica after doing some detective work on the republica website. We find street numbers in photos, yet those numbers don’t exist anywhere near the street. We continue to ask everyone near the supposed location including a homely old woman sitting on steps. Somehow this leads to a Dr. Evil looking guy in a jumpsuit with clear green eyes who walks out and greets me by my name. Holy shit, the place exists. He tells us 80 (!) people will be staying in the house with us. D and I eagerly await the unfathomable amount of puss to greet us.

The girls at the hostel were pretty beastly. The cute ones didn’t seem to dig on me and D for some reason. We were Gringo-Kings. Everywhere we’d go we would get called out “Gringo!” “Where you are from!?”, etc. We would chat up girls in English because we knew that’s where the advantage was. It worked. A lot. I wondered if we were having more success than the beefed up juiceheads with fat silver chains on. I’m sure we did better than many of them.

But what do I mean by doing better? You see, the biggest issue of these ‘republicas’ and Carnaval, is that strangers aren’t allowed inside. One afternoon I met this girl who we’ll call ‘YogaTaters’. I can’t remember how exactly I met her, but after meeting her, her friends came to me and told me to go talk to her more, and that she liked me. (This behavior is very common. I have never been cheered on and egged on so much to makeout with random people’s girl-friends in my life.) So anyway, I talk to her for 30 seconds and we make out. Pretty standard for Carnaval. Later on we happen to meet again and we hook up outside of the Diamantina Church near a big tree. It gets pretty hot. She says she won’t have sex with me, but I eventually get her to agree to go to my republica, I try to sneak her in, and the tired black security guard won’t let her. FML.

So no sex or anything much more than you’d do in 8th grade, but lots and lots of kisses, with some truly beautiful Brazilian girls. I will never get tired of making out with a hot foreign girl and barely understanding her mother tongue. It makes me feel like James Bond. D and I absolutely killed the game, talking to tons of girls with lines like “Hey do you speak English”, “Hey you’re pretty”, “Hey players”, “I love you”, “This is real love right here”, “Fala ingles?”, and “Hey I’m having a theme party next week, should it be 80s or Pimps and Hos?”. Just kidding on that last one. If you’re using that line, you might be a douchebag.

Diamantina was a total and utter clusterfuck. There is no better way to describe it. After say 8 pm at night you could not enter the square or the main stage area. It was too fucking packed. I got tired of that after a couple times and would do anything I could to avoid the crowd. It was a much more “Godly” position to find a really nice perch and watch the beautiful girls as they passed, stroke their hair, and look for the next ;funky’ dance party.

After 5 nights of sleeping on a paper thin shitty mattress and drinking all hours of the day, I was ready to move on. I had 15+ passionate kisses and had a couple of wifey-hour long makeout sessions and was actually getting bored of swapping saliva. I needed some cockle attention. The party is pretty vapid when I look back on it, but would I do it again? Hell yes. Just this time with my own pimp pad.

Extra Notes:

- D had his virgin girl ready to bone after chatting really directly about how he wanted to see her naked and wanted to have sex with her. One of the roommates of Tulio’s house gave us a set of keys, but they didn’t open the main door. Cockblocked by keys. I’m pretty sure he was sobbing on the sidewalk afterward. He refutes this belief.

- The flu nearly ruined my carnival. I spent 2 days gargling salt water, drinking lots of juice, and sleeping. If I drank absolutely nothing it may have healed quicker, but I still got it in a lot. It was Carnaval, no way was I missing that action.

- Tweaker Trance was really big during the AM part of the parties. Such shitty trance. So awful. Other music that you heard every 30 minutes was Sexy Bitch by Akon/David Guetta (I still like this track), Rebolation (The carnaval theme song, annoying), “I gotta Feeling” by Black Eyed Peas (Don’t even get me started on this joke of a music group. Most undeserving music group of our generation.), Infinty (good club banger that I didn’t know about), Stereo Love (Techno/Accordian mashup, sounds really good), and “Oo-pech” (Spelled wrong, I’m sure, it’s a funky song, which means when it’s playing, hot girls are making love to the air.)

- Some of the more memorable kisses I had were:

- Hot 18 year old girl dancing funky outside my hostel, burning my eyes with her gaze. She was petite, black hair, a little too much makeup, and just a gorgeous little body and face. Some other cocksucker kissed her before me, probably because I didn’t listen to the 3-second rule. I had waited like 3 minutes. I went up to her after he had stolen a kiss. He said “This is my girlfriend”. I said “She’s my wife” and started dancing. She grinded on my leg because the music told her to. My heart was fluttering she was so pretty. We kissed some. I think I told her I was 21.

- Beautiful half-black girl with curly hair. Her name was Luana. I approached the group and began talking to her, most likely in Portuguese because she didn’t speak english. I probably told her how beautiful she was. We made out for a while. Her smile was amazing. She has since told me she loves me via e-mail. I am just your average gringo heart breaker.

- Cute drunk 19 year old girl whose name I forget. D and I were tired at like 4 AM just sitting down near our republica when this girl comes up to us and asks us where we’re from, in English. The conversation begins, she is eventually sitting next to me. I think I tell her she’s beautiful, we make out a lot. She takes drinks from her Catuaba Salvagem cheap wine bottle at every break. Total cutie. I see her a couple more times, but I’m with another girl each time.

- Bitchy cousin of D’s “Ex-Wife”, Barbara. This girl had an amazing smile and curly black hair. She looked kind of Spanish. She spoke English. I danced with 2 of her friends before talking to her which had her jealous. I reasoned that I wasn’t kissing them. Then we made out for a long time. She was a great kisser.

- This thick blonde girl in my republica who looked like she was German. She was so impressed that I was from New York. I told her we’d get a drink, and we went and made out. I asked her what her interests were. They were, in the following order, “dirty sex” and “reading”. So I dragged her back to the republica (She has a wristband on! Thank God!) and as we are approaching she is hiccuping like a drunk-sailor. Fuck me. She’s way to drunk. I have no intention of date-raping a girl who pukes on me. I ditch her to flirt with other girls outside the hostel.

- Older light black girl – D and I are sitting during one morning. I think it was the 2nd or 3rd day. D has tried to get it in a couple times unsuccessfully. This girl’s friend wants to sit down, so she sits down, and black girl sits in between her friend and me. I ask her “Como voce vai?” We talk a little in my butchered Portuguese. Might have been some English. She is taller and looks older than most of the other girls. Totally not in the set of women I’d think was interested in me. But lo and behold she tells me she likes me, so I ask if she’d like a kiss. She does. We make out.

- There were a bunch of other kisses too, including one young black girl who D and I wifed up with unfortunately. Hour long makeouts with nowhere to go fucking suck. Those girls wanted to have sex, too. We told them we were going home and then had to avoid them, that kind of sucked. I saw her the next day while making out with 29 year old. Hey, it’s Carnaval. Life without attachments.

Kissing Endnote: Going after the girls aggressively didn’t work nearly as much as them approaching us (obviously). Indirect “game” seemed to work out a lot better.

- “So na pele” was a chant that the guys in the republica taught me, which means “Just the skin”, as in, unprotected sex. I hope that’s not going on too much, but obviously it is, and I’m sure the AIDS rate is pretty damn high.

- D fell in love with a couple girls who quickly became his ‘ex wives’, because he forgot one girl’s name, and because he got caught kissing another girl when his other ‘wife’ saw him randomly in the trance-y square. Both girl’s names were Barbara! I can’t stress how important it is to remember names, which is hard for me. You’ve got to think about something else that is familiar with you that shares the girl’s name.

- There is a popular huffing drug called “lo-lo”. I think it’s computer cleaner. I got pretty fucked up on it one occassion. I thought I was going to pass out. It was pretty great.

- Every guy practices the arm-pull move. This almost never appeared to work. D became a big fan of it too. I just stroked hair instead, which also never worked.

- A couple gay guys seemed to always find D and I. One of them brushed my cock with his hand one night. That was uncomfortable.

- Lots of guys in speedos, lots of guys in drag, lots of guys and girls with very ugly tattoos.

Flag Captured in Ouro Preto, Brazil


Ouro Preto, MG Brazil – Last night I leave the hostel with my two buddies, one from Seattle and one from San Fran, with a bottle of Sprite and a bottle of pretty cheap Cachaza. It’s our last night in beautiful Ouro Preto and we want to get some Brazilian honeys back to the hostel later on. There are a couple of parties and a couchsurfing girl who wants to meet up, so options galore.

First the 3 of us hang out in Plaza Tiradentes, drinking and chilling out, spending 5 reals on some ganja (the guy scammed us by never returning with anything), and working up a little buzz before heading to a party of Braceface, a girl one of the guys had made out with a couple nights earlier.

Out of nowhere the Couchsurfing chick shows up. In her photos she looked kind of manly, but not horrible, and perhaps tip-able. Different story when she shows up. Her mouth is pretty mangled with teeth of every size, and she looks like she could probably kick my ass. I let my buddy who invited her to talk with her.

We walk down the steep hill of a Rua Direita, take a leak in a bar, and as we are collecting ourselves, a pack of girls are walking up hill. So we start saying funny things in English like “Hey y’all players” and “Hello beautiful ladies” and whatever else – we get a little nibble, and bang, the 3 of us are on these girls like vultures on carcass. We each find one or two to start babbling with, and the Argentine Couchsurfer Girl comically disappears. Whoops.

So plans change and we head to a “frat party” in a Republica out here. We walk in, it smells like old beer and I see broken couches. Yes, this is the fraternity life I can recognize from the college parties.

We get in to this side outdoor area with green lazers shooting and popular music blasting and start dancing with our girls. My SF buddy is already ‘apegado’ with his chick, who had straight black hair and a little brown face, and next thing I know they’re making out. Brazilian girls will make out with you in under 5 minutes most of the time. I get a little envious so I dance closer with the girl in the yellow shirt that I had been talking to, and I ask her if she wants a kiss. She does. We make out like two diabetics seeking insulin at the back of eachothers throats for a couple songs. She then backs off to talk/dance with her friends.

The vibe gets lost. Not another makeout night, I think to myself. SF Buddy and I step outside for a ciggy. We talk shit to the “bouncers” and these 2 dudes come to the door, who presumably worked for the police and were stopping the music. So my friend and I get back inside only to find the whole group of girls tending to this major attention whore of the group (who was also the hottest). Fuck this cockblock, I say. The girls all leave except for a few, and this one shorter chick who I earlier exclaimed I was not interested in, sits next to me.

As soon as my first option left, I ask this new girl if she wants to kiss. She does. (What a surprise!) I get her to come with me “to a party.” This ends up being my pousada.

Long story short, I get some of the worst resistance ever from this totally average girl. It takes like an hour to get her top off. I take two steps forward one back until I’m guiding her hand to my neglected member. Eventually she’s down there, I give her a little attention as well, we bone briefly, very briefly, and I pull out to decorate her babylons – when she grabs me down there and tells me not to shoot on her! What the fack! My right nut was throbbing after that, and if this was Grand Theft Auto, I would have taken her outside and run her over with a stolen car.

I got the flag though, and that’s what matters. Get out of the drought and back into Pusslandia. Carnaval is less than one week. It’s going to be fucking crazy. I just better get some easier puss that doesn’t talk about how much it hurts or who doesn’t have enough self lube and makes me waste my one(!) packet on. For the many strains of herp that are sure to greet me, I need some warm folds in return.

Bless you and have a great day. I’m off to Tiradentes.