We continue our foray into distant lands

Today it's raining in Buenos Aires, for the first time in a week or so, and thus we shall sit around the fire and recount.

For starters, here's a full shot of today's banner :

The sushi in this town is out of sight. I ducked into a little sushi place, maybe 100 sq feet, and put away 36 rolls in one go. The cost ? Just about twenty dollars' worth of their local paper here. I've never had sushi this good, and judging by the fact that half the financial district's Japanese population was elbowing me to get to the ordering window I imagine I can't be all that far off. Seriously, I've not seen that many gooks in suits since the 80s real estate bubble.

The shot above is taken in a much more pretentious place, with double prices and better service. It's arguable if the food's any better though. But - seeing how taste doesn't carry through the lens - this is what you get.

This is a table with a bunch of half eaten cake on it, worth about 9600 calories at the inception. Because fuck you, that's why.

This is a street, and I am on it.

This is a steak, and I'm etting it.

This is a pretty good Indian restaurant, located pretty much in the middle of the Jewish section of town. I've never seen this many men in funny hats.

This is another street that I am on (upon).

This is a place where they grill and otherwise cook things on the charcoal fire during the day, being washed down for the night.

This is what the view looks like in one of my (numerous) apartments all over town. Basically, I got a whole floor's worth of bachelor pads on local Broadway. The cabaret here is decent, mayhap a little timidⁱ - I'm half considering starting something. Maybe in a decade or so it'll come naturally however.

Random electric appliances shop where I got an extension chord displays for sale... Romanian Xmas lights. In a simple package with no further indication. I ask the man, whence are these ? He tells me he thinks they're Chinese, I tell him that's definitely Romanian. He asks me if I'm sure, I say I couldn't possibly be mistaken, he looks puzzled.

So, was it a box of led lights manufactured in China for the Romanian market accidentally sent to Argentina ? Or is some small sweatshop around Bucharest actually making these cheaper than the Chinese ?

Wonder of wonders, archeology of present times, vestiges of civilisations.

I'm leaving this here for ThickAsThieves, thestringpuller and the rest of the audiophiles.

Cheap, btw.

I'm leaving this here for asciilifeform, diametric and the rest of the electrophiles.

I asked, btw, and yes they will rewind your transformer. Walk-in.

That cat owns that shop. It will graciously permit you to pet it, without bothering to look, if you pet correctly. If not, it will give you a disapproving stare. Hi Moiety!

You can buy a shirt or a saddle in a shop here, just like that, off the street. Because why the hell not, amirite ?

Plaster cast of old style barber chair. Because people got calls to make.

This used to be reality, by the way, back when I used to love New York.

This purports to be salmon. s.a.l.m.o.n. RED salmon. Would you eat it ?

My first and perhaps last visit to a local super market.

This is the genuine article.

And with that, my dear reader, I bid you a most excellent June the 4th.

1. Cabaret is, of course, a historical event rather than an art form. As such it is not eternal, but merely expressive - in this case, expressive of the desire of street whores to advertise their wares and obtain a better price through creating brand and all the rest of the delicious crap, "you don't sell the steak you sell the shizzle" sort of thing.

   Consequently, a collection of virginal ballerinas and other aspiring dancer girls aren't too likely to manage to reconstruct it, nor when they're young and shy about putting their cunt up for display, nor when they're old and imagine the hodge-podge of new age boredom and whatever may be retained reading a lot of glossy magazines constitutes culture and may allow them to speak ad lib to a crowd. [↩]