siggimus ir kustigs

(excuse siggimus, but siggimus mislaid his pen recently, and is still looking for it. hoping this one will do. still, it might be a yearning for good ole valis…)


riga is much the same. no, way better. pulkvedis rocks like never before, beergardens sprout like fungi, zelta is still smoother than smooth, the female population still has a very distinctive way of dressing (if you can call it that), the burritos at andalusian suns still kick royal ass, and last but not least, there are still 3 pharmacies on every streetcorner, begging to have their picture taken.

it is also a place of great adventures. one can still venture into vernisasa to gawk at rich russians trying not to get seasick on the moving dancefloor, one can buy 4 litre bottles of chivas regal at 4 am on monday morning, one can jump on a trolleybus and go for a joyride, one can eat ostrich, boar or beaver, and one can practice ones latvian on unsuspecting waiting staff.

riga has been one big adventure (which is of course why siggimus hasn’t written yet 🙂
everything from accidentally seeing two of latvia’s biggest bands live to siggimus’s first premeditated opera, with a stopover in a surreal, gangstery sauna

snippets from the life of a mouse in riga:

-spent first two weeks boob- and buttspotting while marinating in the delicious local brew, aldaris zelta with the diligent assistance of a good friend, johann. (thanx! bro. couldn’t have done it without you. too bad about the 15.000 prostitutes. you’ll spot one next time…)

-discovered the benefits of a centralised system. overpaid a whole lat at a cafe, only to get it back 10 minutes later in a bookstore

-drove for 3,5 hours to music festival in rented car (shudder! siggimus still has nightmares about driving in riga. shudder again!) to spend an hour in the worlds largest shower, before returning

-hears two pops that were way too lame to be gunpops sitting outside a restaurant one night. then sees what seems like kidnapping, and comes to conclusion that they might indeed have been extraordinarily lame gunpops. case solves itself in a newspaper a few days later. fret not, siggimus’s friends: it was a police officer who shot those lame shots. off-duty and pissdrunk, but he only shot the guy in the knee, and the bouncer can only blame himself for denying a police officer entrance to his cheesy karaoke joint
other than this, siggimus has spent way too much money, seen way too many falco videos for anyone’s good, stayed in way too many rooms at a certain hostel that sometimes doesn’t have hot water for 9 days, followed icelandic football a bit (go fylkir!!) & gotten a mobile phone in order to fry his brain a bit (+371 9 299 814 or for those without sms) [nb!! currently defunct in a big way!!]

so, adieu for now!


ps: if you like siggimus at all, you can donate money to account 4271 at bank 1150 (SPRON), account type 26. my personal code is 261071-3479. anything from 10.000 iskr to 1.000.000 will be accepted with deep gratitude [this, on the other hand, is far from defunct… any & all spasms of generosity in the siggimus general direction will be most favourably received]

not too fond of the idea? think of it this way: for the price of an icelandic beer, siggimus can get ca 6 over here. it’s a much better way to spend your money, right? you’ll get much more for your money! & siggimus will get to have some fun, which is always a good cause…


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