It is an old post, however so updated

Yeah, yeah, yeah... I live in Brazil. Yeah, yeah, yeah... It is carnival season again in this nation. When I first wrote about this subject was 2005 (link). We are in 2008 and nothing has changed about this crappy festival filled with crappy songs, crappy drunks, and tacky outfits, and stupid body moves that can be seen on the streets and on TV. Yew! Here's that old post being reposted:

"I never understood why there are jerks who travel all the way to Brazil to enjoy our CARNIVAL!!!

Carnival is a typical Brazilian thing when people are led to the streets to see out there parades, get wasted, and listen to live loud music performances. Everyone is supposed to dress up in costumes, put on masks if they will. They may wear wigs and even become androgenous figures if that suits them since the spirit of the party is to get out of control.

As I am not fond of these kinds of parties, when it gets to carnival season, I normally stay home having my hot herbal tea, sitting on my leather couch, glancing at the parades on TV filled with those naked tramps shaking their asses and showing their boobies hanging (I know someone who would strongly enjoy this.)

The fact that I don't like carnival and being a Brazilian citizen make me look weird among the folks down here. I don't really care about this in part because I am pretty much confident and also because I have got my personal reasons to dislike this so-called cultural event.

I remembered when I was first sent to a carnival ball (let me call that mess this way). My mom took me to this crowded place filled with so many idiots of all ages and races. Some of them seemed to be drunk, others seemed to suffer from epilepsy on their hips, and others looked like having cat allergy for rubbing their nose frenetically. To me, they were a bunch of imbecils dressed in funny clothes, dancing in circles as they were mice in a maze. That's how I saw them, taking into consideration that I was only 4 at that time.

My mom also got me a strange outfit which had a little kid's umbrella as an accessory. Besides looking just like the other idiots of that place, I had to carry that umbrella around wherever I went. That was a huge pain because I had trouble holding both the accessory and a cup of soda, and let me not forget, I was also carrying a munch that was bought from those suspicious club cafeterias. Mom had the wittiest idea, "hang your umbrella, sweety, onto this chair." Fine! The place was very stuffy, so the cold soda gave me a relief.

The music sounded insane. Those carnival marchs played by a poor-sounding orchestra started getting on my nerves. I was only 4, I insist, but I was old enough to distinguish between good musicians and crap asshole losers trying to make their living out of something it wasn't made for them. I was too young, too short, too embarassed to get in the mood for a hectic non-sense party: "what are these people so happy about?", I would ask myself that question many times.

I hadn't noticed that everything was going smoothly so far, until the moment my mom decided to push me to the crowd. She would say "Join them. Dance, honey. We are here to party, not to keep staring at them..." Gee, they were just like starving lions and I felt like a pound of fresh sirloin steak. I figured out:"nay-nay."I prayed so she wouldn't try again but then, a friend of mom grabbed me in the arm and dragged me to the crowd.

At the exact moment she did that, my hair got stuck in the wires of my little umbrella which was leaning against that empty chair mom had asked me to hang that stuff on, and not less ironically, the handle of the umbrella that had a hook-like shape embraced another chair. So picture that folks: a stupid middle-aged female human being had been pulling an innocent tot with non-well combed straight long hair stuck on a kid's umbrella hooked on those cheap plastic chairs for ten minutes going in circles in a crowd of hungry lions listening to horsecrap carnival music... yewf!

After that year, there were a few more intents to participate in such event, with some successful ventures I may say, but those were the years that I was reaching the youth times in my life. I had other purposes but being amused by freakos shaking their booties...

Curiosity fact - For those who may care, my scalp wound did not require any reconstruction surgery!"