Ok. Here I am, past the barbed wire fence, in the country where the tagline is simply - Venezuela: The Adventure. (But let's not have tooooooo much adventure, ok?)
In my first few days here (half of them without my luggage) I have been discovering that 1) everyone hates, hates, and really, really hates Chavez, 2) a full tank of gas is ONE DOLLAR, 3) traffic is an abomination (see 2) 4) the McD's drive thru is the "auto mac" and 5) the children drink beer-flavored soda instead of milk.
Yes, the last one is kind of interesting... apparently there is a shortage of milk so my lovely client (think Budweiser + Coke + Kraft in one company) markets "Maltin" the beer flavored drink that's nutritious as milk and adored by children everywhere. This is pretty incredible marketing by a beer company if you ask me. Get em young, get em for life.
The other truly AMAZING aspect (or dual aspects?) is boob size. Seriously now, I have never seen more silicon in one place (or on one woman) than in Venezuela. Oh yes, more than Scottsdale, L.A., NYC, and other famous boobalicious destinations, Venezuela really has the market covered. Er... or perhaps more 'uncovered' as the case may be. Cleavage is not something racy to be saved for late night cocktail lounges -- oh no -- bring it all out, way out, all the time. At the office, at the airport, at the grocery store. It seems completely acceptable to -just barely- cover these strangely evenly tan lobes, firmly uplifting plunging v-necks. Truly admirable (that they can lift their head... or even their upper body).
Buenas breastas.
