IT'S BACK!!!!
After months of absinthe, no absess, no absence...due, actually to having nothing of any note to report...
But here we go, random jots and photes...


The Gerrits...with glass topped table...
I need an outlet for these...UK price around £750 a set plus shipping...
Outdoor variants available ( i.e. split hardwood back and seat to allow drainage), painted or wood, hand made in solid non-Amazonian hardwood ( and a couple of bits of ply obviously...), constructed with wooden pegs as per the originals, which are worth around £250,000 each in their red/blue version...
I loves 'em...


The estate as it was a few months ago when building work was pretty much complete...
Needs a few more trees and plants...


The shadey veranda, great for brekkies...
The nearest bush is now inundated with dwarf tomato plants...
The roof terrace roof is now further palmed up...just needs chairs and table...


My mates Sonia and Lu at my fave lagoonside
bar Estacao Boqueirao a while back...
Pinchico, the bar's boss, is standing for election at the mo'...which consists of him and hundreds of mates driving round and round the town every other night on small 'sickles and in cars and trucks, beeping horns, screaming , shouting, chanting, waving flags, blasting out soundsystems at a deafening level, letting off explosives and generally blocking all traffic and all attempts at normal day to day life... and everything...
(The candidates are allowed to donate petrol to supporters!!)
Meanwhile, all the other candidates and their supporters are doing exactly the same thing at exactly the same time in exactly the same places, and there you have it....Brasilian politics.
I doubt that one in a hundred of the supporters has the vaguest idea about any of the candidate's vaunted policies, but this in fact matters little, as the chances of any of the candidates actually carrying out any of the policies if elected is pretty much zero anyway, and there you have it, Brasilian politics...

Ooooh how random.
How unexpected....


OK my suite , taken from the en-suite...


How sweet...
My seat...


MMMMMmmmmmm
My shed...
How neat...


My Brasilian designed Eclipse lamp...
Just in case you hadn't had it forced down your throat by
me previously...
It comes in a pizza box which is erm, good...?
I have been working on a chair design based on this
lamp, but unfortunatelly it doesn't work...
Isn't life funny sometimes...
And then other times, not...

Random enough for you????

OK, here's a twist you weren't expecting, I'll warrant...
HOMEMADE 100% WHOLEMEAL BREAD.
AN ANTHOLOGY.


Yes, since June , (when I hasten to add I did not suddenly become gay I hasten to add),
I have been baking what has gradually become wholemeal bread.
Look, baking, especially 100% wholemeal baking is actually quintissentially butch...
One isn't, after all, a BAKERRA or a BAKINNA, or a BAKINNI ...one is a BAKER...
You know, it's essentially very Masculine, lots of tough Kneading...and Cutting open bags with Tough and Dangerous implements like Scissors...with some pretty hefty Sprinkling and Pouring going on too...and don't forget all the Lifting as well...and the oven can be very Dangerous too as it is very Hot...
Well anyway, just fuck off...

Above on the right is my most recent loaf, which was excellent, and on the left was my last one which was shit...


This was around number 4, back in June, with a large tub of Ornella's amazing homemade marmalade made from our plantation oranges...


This was Number 4 at breakfast with toasted cheese and pooched eggs, which is eggs steamed by shoving them up a hot dog's arse...or else I mis- spelled 'poached' and tried to cover up for it with a cheap and unnecesarily crude distraction...
And a mug of Tetley's, the makings for which, horror of horrors, have nearly run out...
( I really mean that.)


Has he made 100% wholemeal bread in the likeness of rustic cooking pots and burnt it, you say??
No...
These are cheap clay pots bought at the roadside for mere pennies, and which produce amazingly tasty food if stuffed into the oven after being loaded with, for example, ingredients...
Of course, the oven must be Hot.

I'm sorry, but I've started so I must finish...


Numbers 3, 4 and 5...
Which means the previous number 4 was probably number 6...
Does it really matter??
Of course it does...


Oooooh. this is Number ummmm, I'll say 9...
Loaf, rolls, and dwarf tomato bread, made with equal quantities of dwarf and tomatoes...
Homegrown of course, and a few samples from this years first crop from our orange plantations at Palmital...most get cut back so the trees put the energy into the erm, trees...


This is Number fuck knows....


Aaaah note the obvious use of a bread tin rearing it's
wholemeal head for the first time..., and more rolls...
Number ermmmmm...twelvety??

This fashion shoot follows on from an early '06 post of me wearing underpants balaclava style on my head in an (admittedly unsuccesful) attempt to gain acceptance as a drugsoldier in one of Rio's infamous Favela drug gangs...
Here we try for some 'favela chic'...
Rather succesfully, I feel...


Pamela provocatively models one of Marks & Spencer's "Finest" range of single -sex multi-use garments in an 'over the shoulder' fashion, perfect for the more formal occasion...


Ariane, again with one from the "Finest" range, this time, still in blue...
Casual yet sophisticated, complementarily accessorised with a flower theme...


Pamela again, this time in exuberant mood...
Perhaps ready for the beach...
Or for that impromptu chic afternoon get-together
with friends by the pool...
Swinging!!!
Marks & Spencer have done it again!!!


And finally here's the lovely Ariane once again...
... this time in a teasing mood...
What is she thinking, we wonder...
Perhaps, "Oh Christ, they're in my mouth...
...I bet that fat pig didn't wash them ??"

Well bugger me!?
If this isn't a bit of a hotch potch!!!


No it is...
Here a shot of Cabo Frio by the Sea-o...
When me and Rich Cooper were here in '87 it was two restaurants, a Bum Bum bikini stall, and a couple of houses struggling to reach the first floor...
Now just bloody look at it...
Look at the size of it...
It's Eeeenormous...


The sand hasn't changed much tho'...
Still so white and still the texture of snow...
Amazing...
Interestingly, back in '87, the waiter at the first restaurant was Radar from the TV series "Mash" ( not the film, I hasten to add, that would have been too wierd...), and the waiter at the 2nd restaurant was Jack Nicholson...
How odd...
And further up the road in a town called Valenca, we sold our fursca ( VW Beetle) to Phil Andrews of Moles fame. He was running a small cafe bar.
Funny old trip that one, always full of surprises.
We rented an apartment, in which the landlord's daughter was asleep on the bed.
He offered to throw her in at no extra charge.
We declined, not being sure what decorum required of us, and also she was asleep, after all.
Later Rich got caught in the rain and took refuge in a Bum Bum with two old ladies.
Alright, I was trying to be clever.
In a Bum Bum Bikini store.
But that was the name of the franchise.
Bum Bum.
There, I've said it..


Moving swiftly...
And extremely tangentially,
Here are some of my Dwarves growing...
The first seven are visible.
Grumpy, Dumpy, Lumpy, Swumpy (chained to the roots obviously),
Frumpy, Trumpy and Dave.
There's always one, isn't there?


These are my not-dwarves.

It's strange, but wherever I have planted or tended, there is nothing...
Like the Ukraine the Russians left for Hitler...
But wherever I do nothing, crops flourish, particularly in totally inappropriate locations like here on my path, within grabbing reach of the road...
Or round the back of my house, all over Nachman Reclamation Yard.
Ric wouldn't stand for it.
He'd shout and swear and kick the shit out of them until they
moved into a shop in Walcot Street called Nashers Fucking Tomatoes...
With a silent "Fucking" obviously.

(The real name of " John's Bikes " is "John's Fucking Bikes" in honour of just such tantrums by Ric.)

My third trip to Buzios.
St Tropez of Brasil.
Discovered by BB in '64.
I love it.
So did she.

Ex Furniture store with post industrial interior...
Would make a beast of a night clube...


Another beast...she was my friend at the house I rented on my return last May...
She still remembered me this june bless her...


Here an ancient Galleon plunges through a shop roof into the street in Buzios...
Brasilian drivers eh...


Nice drapey things display a touch of colourful French design flare at
my fave pousada in Buzios run by my buddy Frederic.

More Buziossing...

Here my Scouse mate Steve, still working at my fave bar in Buzios, although it's changed hands and Yank owner Ken is back in the motor trade...
Steve's been in Braz for 20 years and shows no signs of returning to the UK...probably cuz they won't let him back in...
Steve is a stout fellow.
And he calls me Nasher, not fucking Paul...


mmmm, nice bar...


Kubitschek, who initiated the moving of the capital from Rio to Brasilia, to open up the interior in the fifties. (What a dump.)
The Argentinian guy on the right said we should shoot all politicians just like this, but not with cameras...
Astute chap.


Graff'd cacti...not something I saw a lot of in Bristol...

Here in complete disorder, some Arraial do Cabo pix, then back to Buzios.


The boat I should have bought, back in '87.


The boat we looked at, purely, and unfairly, just for something to do...
We pretended we were on the buy...


Aaaah Buzios...one of the 30 odd beaches around the isthmus(???)


View from a Buzios bar.

Awright you lot, time fer some bleedin' art...


All I did was ask if I could take a snap, and this amazing lady gave us free reign of her house and garden, and we ended up chatting politics for about an hour...
Her stuff is amazing...Rosie Popay it was made for you, or you were made for it!!!
It's wire mesh based, then either papier mache'd or fibreglassed depending on how strong/waterproof the piece has to be...


She's based in Buzios, and her stuff, including some in cast statue form is all over the place..


The chairs really are...


Her understated living room.