I know that, in theory, Portuguese people are reading this blog. I do not fault them for their amazing taste. However, having to come up with a random people to bother this week, I was forced to acknowledge the fact that Portugal is, believe it or not, a country.
I am good friends with a Portuguese fellow (he is one of the men in the portrait). I call him ‘Poncho’. He calls me ‘babaca’, because he is in awe of my amazingness. My only point, regarding his people, is that I’m pretty sure they are shit at music. For instance, I went to a ‘gig’ there last year, or as they call them ‘açúcar fest salsicha revestido’, and you know, I expected the trains to run on time. However, they didn’t, and I learned that even in the South, the beacon of fastidiousness and accuracy, things do not operate as planned. The band I wanted to see entered the stage at 2 AM! As a fine, upstanding citizen, I took offense at this, as I am old and must get my tea at 6 AM, after 8 solid hours of rest. The band, and the Portuguese clogging up the scene, did not take any notice of my difference of opinion. Instead of a responsible member of society, who would rock the fuck out to Oneida at 10 PM, I had to rock the fuck out to Oneida at 2 AM, when, to be completely honest, I was already somewhat rocked the fuck out, and could not continue to rock the fuck out at the same intensity. Therefore, I give Portugal one star, out of a possible five.