Fiebre de las chavas

Otro cheve, otra chava
Necesito en mi cama

Sí quieres a entender esta, entonces tienes que aprender español:

Primero: Finalamente tengo un móvil. ¡Yo lo tengo! El numero es: 811 075 65 44
No se cual numeros salvos estos, pero creo que es facil. Y Yo no se cuanta cuesta a llamar, pero prueba. Creo que es listo a comprar una tarjeta telefónica.

My Spanish can be summed up with this phrase: Free whole eat toes. But it’s coming along. I can swear with the best of them and talk all day about cables and ropes. If anyone from the continent that stole our name ever makes fun of you for not being able to roll your Rs, have them try to say any word that starts with ‘th’.

Now if only the Norwegian would leave me alone. It’s still lodged way back there, and too many simple words mean completely different things between the two languages.

Get used to salsa. Good to keep Pepto and A/D around, as everything comes with salsa. Even toilet paper. It’s a vicious cycle. And there’s simply one cultural tic here that I just can’t do. Can’t do it. Nope. Sorry. Oh, and I’m now available for children’s parties.

I’m leaving for Guadalajara on Tuesday, after I drive that damned climbing wall around a little more. Pinche caminetta. Pinche pared. Jodidas de mierda.

When I get some better interwebbenservice, I'll get some pictures of the recent construction (much rigging), and the next set of canyon photos.