Café Chile. Service—Come fucking get it

I go to a café once a week-ish to upload Genius to the Internet and harass people with pointless emails. I sit in the upstairs section and pass the afternoon with headphones, drinking coffee until my colon tells me it is time to stop, signaling the beginning of the Working Class Chilean Beer Phase. As with the rest of the country, service here is a luxury item that only the rich can afford. If I want another beverage I need to go downstairs and order it, wait 25 minutes then go downstairs again and inquire about it before I have any chance of getting one.

This day however I was taken by surprise by a waitress coming upstairs. What did she want? Did she realise I had been eating snacks stashed in my backpack to avoid buying their Over Priced Old Fridge Tasting Selection? Or had someone gone Exorcist in the bathroom again (I bet it was a fucking Belgian)? She seemed to be making eye contact with me — so I put my attention back on the Google image search for Mud Wrestling Sisters and left the headphones in. Who knows, maybe she was just trying to take in the magnificence of my Chin-Defying Farm Beard?

When it was apparent that she wanted something from me I feigned ignorance and looked up spitting out Hola awkwardly. Perhaps my cow shit covered pants wrongly signified that I wasn’t a gringo and she asked a question I didn’t understand or associate with waitresses or cafés. Maybe she was asking me out? As long as I could keep my screen away from her there might be something in this. I smoothly said What? She decided to repeat what she said before, word for word, but faster. I wrongly attempted a shrugging reply (you’d be surprised how often that is sufficient). It got awkward. And her face gave birth to a scowl—which is a scowl slightly different than the regular scowl that sits unenthusiastically upon the collective faces of the Chilean Service Industry.

Then I realised I had to buy something else. Apparently one espresso coffee in four hours isn’t enough. Well maybe if you dragged you bagging jeans wearing arse up the fucking stairs every now and then you’d get a few more purchases sweet heart. That would have been a sweet-as thing to say but would require approximately 10 minutes to translate and cross reference with the dictionary. I don’t know what I fucking want — I’m busy looking for chicks fighting in mud. So I opted for a time buying request for the menu — but in the stress of the moment I couldn’t remember how that phrase went. Was it carta or menu and with what verb and which tense do I use? She was about my age, but I don’t know her, do I use formal or informal?

The seconds passed and I knew I was nose-diving into a Communication Arse Crack into which even English got sucked. So I drew a rectangle with my hands and shrugged. Her return blank I’m-doing-a-turd-like face (she was getting less attractive by the minute, as I assume I was — Beard Credit can only get you so far) indicated she wasn’t computing. What else could I possibly be signifying you incompetent fool — that I’m opening a portal to another dimension to flee through with my illegal snacks and semi pornographic pictures without paying for my one espresso or divulging my intimate knowledge of what actually happened in that bathroom? We were now perhaps three minutes into this shit storm with no way out. I had one headphone in playing Van Halen Poundcake thank God (a.k.a. Van Halen) to ease the pain. And you know what the crazy bitch did? She turned around and walked downstairs AND DIDN’T COME BACK. She fucking gave up! Did she even fucking work there? How is that acceptable? Oh that’s right service is a ‘If I feel like it’ thing around here.

If I had a hat on I would have taken it off to that amazing display of Extreme Service (and thrown it at her as she walked away, and in an ideal world it would have been a over-sized metal construction helmet with Rabies-laced Tiger Wire welded to it and copped her square in the lower back at the top off the stairs. When she’d finished falling to the bottom of the stairs I’d yell out Bring me a beer thanks.

And by the way, I am uploading this spicy entry from within the aforementioned café, beer in the hand — what delicious ironing.

Munch on this you Swiss git

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Man Abroad Family Seven Star Praying Mantis Kung Fu

The Kung Fu Kwoon in Santiago was pretty abysmal indeed; a toilet sized bedroom full of furniture, with barely enough room to roundhouse a midget. Sure there are parks in Santiago but they are run by the stray dogs and besides nobody likes a tosser doing martial arts in a park full of people. The Man Abroad Farm Phase is a different story however. At the back of the farm is a massive paddock for the sheep to graze encircled by trees. It's quiet, it's serene, the sheep are a little annoying and there is shit everywhere, but for the most part it is more than suitable. The sheep tend to shit less in the dry dirt covered area so that is where I Knock About, and it also looks tough as hell when I stamp the ground and a puff of dust shoots up. Here you can see my Farm Fashioned Bamboo Cudgel And Short Stick Set.


In the beginning there was no one to fight but nature, so that's what I did. These trees are not simply trees, they are rock hard knobbly street fighters that want to steal my wallet and kick my skull in. Using an old fashion Line Fighting Technique I fought tooth and dagger for that wallet and skull — and believe you me those trees looked a lot healthier before I arrived.

During my many hours of practice and meditation on the various aspects of Awesomeness, I decided to develop my own definitive style of martial arts that gets it right all the time. Yes, we all know Chow Ah Naam observed a mantis killing a bird in China ages ago and developed Mantis Kung Fu from there. But I too have captured a Mantis (Murray from the last Man Abroad post) and observed his daily patterns. And Murray is a sick fucker, easily the single most ruthlessly violent creature I have ever met. I have adapted these observations (including the de-capitation and head eating of every type of farm animal there is) into a Super Advanced Style of Kung Fu called Man Abroad Family Seven Star Praying Mantis Kung Fu overseen by myself, Grand Master Man Abroad.


This book contains the current curriculum and some of the deadly secrets of The Art. As you can see from examples on the cover ALL modern day senarios are addressed without censorship. I simply present the information, it is up the discretion of the pupil to apply it sensibly and legally.

I have also released a line of Tai Chi books for those less inclined to violence but who have an interest in attaining Inner Awesomeness and reap the rewards of Tai Chi's broad spectrum of Healing Powers.





As interest in the Chilean community about this new Super Gringo Martial Artist grew, the cunning entrepreneur dwelling deep within me knew what to do: Strip While The Iron Is Hot! I set up a tournament in the Old School fashion whereby I ask the top fighters in the world to come to my Kwoon and fight me in their chosen style to really see what Man Abroad Family Seven Star Praying Mantis Kung Fu is all about. I can talk the talk but I can also walk the walk (or as the saying goes in Man Abroad Family Seven Star Praying Mantis Kung Fu: You can palm the palm strike but can you hold the holding squat?) I don't want to toot my own horn here (that's a private thing between a man and his laptop) but I fancied myself.


The tournament was called Latin Kombat. Including myself there were 10 fighters in total that were to fight it out No Holds Barred in the safety of the Chilean countryside. Even the most average of you out there will most likely have heard of these top notch fighters:

Man Abroad: Grand Master and Creator of Man Abroad Family Seven Star Praying Mantis Kung Fu, the organiser, main spectacle and anticipated vanquisher.

Ken: That walking shampoo commercial-looking pussy from Street Fighter II that spends more time dueling with his hairdryer than anything else, but does have a dangerous move that shoots out a hot white thing while he screams.

Kung Fu Panda: Flavour of the moment and nothing more. A useless animal and a useless fighter. He was invited for no other reason than to destroy him and his reputation guaranteeing no further tainting of the Martial Arts Movie World.

Sub Zero II (Minus Sub Zero): The love child of former Mortal Kombat sensation Sub Zero, this little pocket rocket is the next generation of Coldness. I thought it best to challenge and kill him while he's young as a self preserving investment for the future.

Scorpian II (Scorpling): Unable to do anything without copying Sub Zero, Scorpian, of the same Mortal Kombat fame also knocked one out. This little dude is also slightly unnerving and it would be best that he gets crushed as well.

Old Asian Dude: He's the guy that has starred in every Asian martial arts movie ever made. But due to extreme ugliness and an Asian lisp he only gets action parts and hit the glass ceiling well back in the seventies. That being said he is a fucking good fighter and I look forward to touching hands with him, before breaking his back.

Murray Mantis: Inspiration for the development of Man Abroad Family Seven Star Praying Mantis Kung Fu, Murray is a formidable martial artist. That being said he is only 8 centimetres tall so there weren't too many concerns there as long as I can keep his raptorial forelegs away from my eyes.

Raven: She maybe unfamilar to some of you non-pinball playing people out there. She is an ex member of the Naughty Navy Seals that gained world wide fame in the Pin Ball Circuit in the early eighties when she got into bed with Premier Pin Ball Gaming. The next image down may jog your memory and impress you with her arsenal of guns.

BJ Penn: Celebrated top notch UFC Fighter known for his natural mixed martial arts style and unpredictability, I was very keen to challenge him to a cage-less cage fight in the country side and let the organisers at UFC know there is a new contender.

Cheeky Twins: These two chicks earn a living by play fighting on camera before making out while getting hosed down. Little did they know that they were invited not for legitimate fighting like they had hoped, but that they would be fighting each other for the camera.


Here she is, that Militant Mistress; Raven, shamelessly lending her considerable armory to promote pin balling.


Kung Fu Panda. I refuse to watch the movie (the only animal fighting I will accept is dog, cock and llama fights) so I was unaware of his abilities, but not fussed in the slightest. One of my specialties is taking out fat, hairy people so I wasn't too worried about anything except maybe his claws, disturbing gaze and constant crotch promoting postures.


The authorities were invited to come watch and help clean up any mess (including tricky paperwork) in return for empanadas. They had their work cut out for them removing this 800 kilo, now neck-less, mass of Former Panda.


This was a tough one. Bj Penn and I went five rounds of five minutes before I knocked him out Ground And Pound Style in the final seconds from a Full Mount (that's a non-sexual MMA term for you losers out there). I went all out too because the cocky bastard talked shit about me and my moustache in the pre-fight interview which will be edited to my liking in the DVD Extra Features.


Fight Number Five (which was renamed Half Time Entertainment in the DVD edition) was a spectacle. The Cheeky Twins were furious at being invited under false pretenses and let me tell you they took it out on each other. The Tournament budget didn't allow for a mud pit like I had hoped but in the end it didn't matter. Even the sheep hung around to watch this one.


I don't know who invited this 'guy', where he came from or why he was wearing nothing but unnecessarily tight underwear. He maybe holding two razor sharp Katanas and willing to fight to the death but please. Neither the world of Martial Arts nor Entertainment what to see this flabby wanker get his comeuppance. That being the case, I set the farm dogs on him who returned later with the Katana swords (which I will sell on Ebay) and the tattered remains of those foul little undies.


Another hard slog was the Cudgel Fight with the Old Asian Dude. Don't get me wrong, I am awesome on the cudgel, but it's not my weapon of choice and I am unaccustomed to fighting dressed as an ancient Asian peasant. Nevertheless a good fight was had and let's just say the Old Asian Dude won't be acting anytime soon (unless it's a hospital bed drama).

All other fights went as I expected — Man Abroads way. I kicked Ken in the stomach, breaking his intestines when he got his fringe stuck in his eyes. Sub Zero II is floating in the river and as always Scorpian II is copying him. Most of Murray Mantis is still stuck to the bottom of my shoe. Raven is offically classed by the Naughty Navy Seals as 'Missing In Action' and the Cheeky Twins remained unharmed but not untouched.


To celebrate the public validation of Man Abroad Family Seven Star Praying Mantis Kung Fu I shaved my head clean and had some peasants knit me a Grand Master Night Gown. As foreseen, the press have picked up on it and Man Abroad Family Seven Star Praying Mantis Kung Fu is fucking hot news at the moment.


Got the call up from NEO GEO who begged me to approve the speedily created gaming version of Latin Kombat, who are flogging it to schools, seedy arcades and airports throughout Latin America.


Man Abroad was the special guest feature of this month's Latino Kung-Fu, the most respected Martial Arts publication in Latin America. I recount victories and reveal a few of the secrets from Man Abroad Family Seven Star Praying Mantis Kung Fu.


As my credibility and popularity sores I have also been involved in a few classic movie remakes as well as sequels, as is the fashion these days. Due to the abysmal efforts of Michael 'What is acting?' Dudikoff in the first installment, the producers of American Ninja decided to cast someone with actual Kung Fu and acting ability. Man Abroad willingly stepped up to the plate. The producers also felt that American Ninjas were becoming a dime a dozen, but Latin American Ninjas were few and far between, hence the creation of a Modern Classic.


To commemorate the 22nd anniversary of one of the greatest martial arts movies (and movies in general) of all time, Bloodsport, and bring it to the Latinos, I was cast as the Latin version of Frank Dux — Fredrico Dulce — in El Bloodsport. And It even got the nod from JCVD himself.


Man Abroad's innovativeness is spreading beyond simply reinventing martial arts. If I see something lacking in Awesomeness, and I have nothing better to do, I will kick it's arse until it is Awesome. Now Man Abroad is selling tough-as-hell Man Jeans to hardcore farmers across Latin America who, until now, have been unable to fully express themselves Kick-Wise.

Tranquil life in the country side? I think not. No rest for the Awesome as they say. Please send requests for Man Abroad Family Seven Star Praying Mantis Kung Fu publications using this blog site. As that man-looking former swimmer once said about muesli bars; If you dream, you believe, you create, you succeed.