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An unsubstantiated rumor on the origins of

  • An unsubstantiated rumor on the origins of the name 'Titicaca' formed the basis for the notoriety of a little hole-in-the-wall bar on the outskirts of Mocomoco the locals called

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  • Grandes Pezones, the best bar in Bolivia. They've served the most interesting drinks there for literally centuries. Drinks like Leche Madre, made of sweet cream, rum, & a splash of

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  • parakeet poo, which lent the beverage a decidedly tropical zest. The Grandes Pezones was where anyone who was anyone in Bolivia hung out. I, Arturo Manchana ChaCha, got drunk there

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  • on a few memorable occasions. I fondly recall the time when me and General Martinez got so drunk, he forgot about the Revolución the next day. He was a great man but couldnt handle

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  • his fork and knife after a hard night of drinks. It was entertaining, watching a grown man trying feed himself with the motor skills of an under developed child. "How is this man

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  • even a man, man. This is a job for man's man Steve McManaman. Steve flew in from Manchester to show this manchild a thing or three about how to wear a pair of testes. "Man up boy!"

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  • The manchild gurgled and cooed. Oysterish snot pearled on his lip. His eyes were so innocent. But his chest looked like a linebackers. But his arms will short and chubby.

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  • The door splintered inward. I was trapped as the 300 lbs (138 kg) toddler lumbered closer. "PIGGY-BACK! DA-DA! PIGGY-BACK!"

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  • My ability to precisely weigh people at a glance had indeed benefited me on the boardwalks and fair midways of my youth, but here seemed utterly unhelpful. Those giant, infant han

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  • ds just threw me off. And so did the hat. And so did the shoes. I stared at him intently for a good five minutes in silence before I just got weirded out and left.

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