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portugal, Page 31

Our Store

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I can smell the stench of old beer and urine already, it is Queen’s Night here in Amsterdam, the eve of one of the messiest, nuttiest, look-i’m-wearing-my-orange-shirt days of the year. But let’s leave that for tomorrow, today I’m telling a story from my childhood:

Growing up in Newark, my parents had a store in the Ironbound (Portuguese section). As far as I can remember, this store sold – generally speaking- Portuguese things.… Read Full Text

My Favorite Day

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It’s a bit pathetic, yesterday was my most favorite holiday EVER, and I didn’t even notice. I didn’t flip open the Portuguese newspaper, I didn’t reflect or write, I didn’t salute a beautiful event in the history of the world. I just kept repeating the date to myself like an old man losing his mind: 25 of April. 25th…. April… 2o plus 5. And only now, after receiving an email from my father, do I realize why the date echoed in my head.… Read Full Text

Low Budget Blows

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Remind me to tell you my plan for getting together a bunch of young kick-ass laywers to take all these low budget airlines like RyanAir and Transavia to the European Court of Justice and sueing them for violations of my traveler rights and fraud. It doesn’t count as Brussels, Stockholm, or Rome if the airport is 2 HOURS away from the actual city! Yet they advertize cheap ass flights as if it were true.… Read Full Text

Throw Up

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Sometimes on saturday I like blogging a family story. Tell you bout my parents and life in Newark when I was a kid. Or maybe bout a journey I took in Portugal, Spain, or whatever. I’ve got lots of those. I know not everyone gets that chance, I know I’m lucky. But actually I lost the train of thought, for one reason tonight:

I’m watching this We Were Soldiers movie. Did you see it?… Read Full Text