San Martín

Meet me at the corner of Jorge Luis Borges and Avenida Santa Fe, and we'll walk a block to Kentucky Pizza. Later I'll take you down Thames, to MALOUVA and there we ingest Malbecs from 2004 and beyond. Oh the future is grand, as we take a turn down to Hollywood, not so far away, but as Liberacci rolls over in his grave, we take in all the sights of Mundo Bizarro's brand of brutish behavior. A quick survey, the scene, a sighting of slight figures, slim, slow, sultry figures, locomotive motor train whistle blowing through my brains.

Again, Levon Helm will simply not leave my head, his drumming too idiosyncratic.

You better stop and think about what you're doing:

The Solution