Andy in the Park: Bidets

My friend Andy, in Remote Year, is funny. So we decided to do a little video series of him thinking about things in parks in different countries we go to. So this is the first one of him in a Park in San Martin Square in Cordoba thinking of Bidets. If you don’t know what a bidet is, it is something that shoots water into your butt to clean it instead of toilet paper. There are bidets everywhere in Argentina and it’s not a normal thing for us Americans.

If you’d like Andy to ponder about something for you in Argentina please leave a comment and he may think about it for you.




Mendoza and a Bottle of Friends.

This weekend I went to Mendoza wine country in Argentina. It’s known as one of the best wine countries in the world.

However, I really have no clue about wine. My only real confident knowledge is knowing the difference from Red and White. Beyond that I’m not into white so I don’t know anything about it except it goes with fish and upper middle class girls who bath in it at brunch while laughing really loud as they leave lipstick marks all over their glasses.

Side note I’ve always found lipstick marks on glasses kinda sexy. I really don’t know why but it’s hot to me. So any girl that wants to come over to my non existent apartment with red lipstick and go to town on my wine glasses is always welcome.

As for Red. I can slightly tell the difference from a Pinot to a Cabernet. But Cabernet to a Merlot to a Malbec…then I’m clueless. I can tell the difference from a crappy wine to descent wine. Or the difference from descent wine to the wine ordered on an expense account. But honestly it doesn’t matter. I’m 37 years old and if I haven’t acquired a pallet that truly appreciates wine it’s probably not going to happen. And it takes effort to pretend that I taste blackberries or the leather or some other nut or oak that is protruding from the barrel. Sometimes I want to care. But I just don’t.

Wine for me is good company. A dinner table of friends joining together for conversation that I’ll remember forever. Wine is the bottle between me and a girl that I can’t stop staring at as I eat dinner and all I want to do is grab her face across the table and kiss her.

The only thing I can taste is the stupid conversations about Otters buttholes or the complexity of a buddy splurging his insecurities of a girl he’s talking to. Or the robust laughter every time I hear an embarrassing story that we never let a buddy live down.

So I appreciated Mendoza for what it is. Grapes that turn into memories. From the memories with my old friends to the memories with my new ones. Fuck that’s cheesy, Mr. Mozzarelaa strikes again!

***And if you’d like to see pictures and the quick tour of what my weekend at Mendoza was please scroll down. It starts with a luxury bus because luxury and busses just go together. Duh.***

So this is a First Class sleeper Bus. The seat reclines down so you can sleep or try to sleep as you go through twist and turns through the night. We left at 1030pm and arrived at 7am.

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I asked for the bano/bathroom on the bus. After I exited the bano and was at my seat the Bus attendant approached me and said in broken English, “Only liquids in the bathroom.” I just stared at her and was like fuck what if we have to poop what are we supposed to do, not that I cared anymore because I just unloaded the death star on the bus and was getting called out for it. And she’s like “Do you understand only liquids?” I shook my head yes like a scolded boy in gym class.

First stop on our wine Tasting tour at 10am. Yes I said 10am the perfect time to consume and appreciate alcohol. We went to Bodega Benegas one of the oldest wineries in Mendoza. Learned how to put wine in my mouth and suck in to sound like a bird which lets you properly taste the wine. Do you taste the leather? Someone chimed in, “Hmmm yes, tastes like the inside of a BMW.” The bottle pictured is the one that everyone liked the most, the Cabernet Franc.

The second winery was one of the newest wineries in Mendoza, I forgot the name. It was amazing trying real grapes from the vine.

Last winery  was a classic winery and I think the best. It also included lunch and never ending tasting. After lunch we all passed out sipping espressos on the lawn till they put us to work picking fresh grapes off the vine, which I just ate instead. Damn the fresh grapes tasted amazing.


That Night we went to a restaurant called MallMan which is part of Francis MallMan’s restaurants. He’s featured on Chef’s table on Netflix, not this specific restaurant but the chef is. The Food was fantastic. Enjoy some food porn.

Some amazing starters that we shared family style: Organic pear cooked in salt with Burrata cheese, mixed greens and bacon chips. This dish was absolutely amazing. “Humita” Fresh grinded corn cream with grilled prawns and basil oil. This is an Argentina dish that is much like an unpacked Tamale. It was absolutely amazing and it surprised me how much I loved it. The final starter was a grilled Spanish Octopus with crispy potatoes and aioli. This wasn’t bad but I wouldn’t praise it like the others.

Had an amazing Malbec with our Main Courses that we shared family style. Rib Eye Steak that was cooked absolutely perfectly. A braised baby goat made in a clay oven. I actually was like whatever on this dish and then felt bad for baby goats. Then a dish I didn’t have but I had to take a pic because it was a masterful piece of genius, The Giant Tomahawk steak with chimichurri that was the size of 3 people’s head.

Next morning after waking up from a food coma I took a walking tour of Mendoza. Learned about the kidnapping of woman and children and mothers looking for their kids. Apparently the dictatorships were really bad back in the day in Argentina. This symbol of a handkerchief on the head of mother is a symbol for a non profit that is searching for these lost children.

Super sad stuff. They supposedly found a child (now a 35 year old) only a year ago. Apparently they’d take mothers who were pregnant and after they gave birth they’d kill the mother and give the baby to another family. And this family knew and never told their adopted child. And then that child finds out 30 years later from a DNA test. Devastating and heart crushing story. If you were against the dictatorship and spoke against it you were targeted and kidnapped.

Then we ended our day at a spa for $19 for the day. So we lounged like kings and splashed in a hot tub like we were 15. Great weekend.




Meet The Remotes 4 and 5 of 75: The Editor and Career Coach

Meet some more of the 75 amazing people I’m traveling with this year with some quick interviews. The more I get to know my little Tribe of Remotes the more I realize how awesome they are. These quick little interviews don’t give em justice of how rad they are because I could write a book on each one of them. So these quickie interviews will have to do.


24 years old. From New Jersey.  Works as an Associate Editor for a Business Technology website.



26 years old. From Los Angeles.  Works as a Career Coach.



12 countries. 12 short films.


Every month in every country/city I visit I’m going to do a short film. At the end of this year journey I’ll have 12 short films. That’s kinda rad. There maybe 9 pieces of shit short films. But 3 might shine like a newborn baby’s smile. Either way I’m going to push myself to do this. 12 films will be made.

When I was in high school and college I did a lot of short films. On 8mm, 16mm and digital. I was one credit away from a minor in Filmmaking in school. Then I started working and I stopped doing it. Not because I wanted to. Because I worked to much and I just didn’t have the time. I’d say I’m a workaholic. Ok, I wouldn’t say I am, I know I am a workaholic. I want shit to be great. And when your brain is wired like that you don’t have time for side projects even when you try to make it happen. They always take a second seat to work. And I hate that about myself because I can’t control it.

Another reason I think I stopped is because if I did something I wanted it to be at a high level. After working with great art directors, editors, sound people, etc. when I’m shooting million dollar commercials my level of taste rises. And when I go and do my own projects with a budget of a McDonalds Combo meal I start hesitating, feeling that what I’m working on is as bad as a bunch of obese walruses singing “Can’t stop believing” off key. That it was going to look like shit. That the writing wasn’t going to be sharp enough.

So 13 years later with zero short films made. I’m going back to what I like, creating. And not caring if it’s great or even good. I’m going to care about creating. And even if I give birth to a (film) baby that has 800 arms, 27 eyes and poops out it’s mouth I’m not going to care. Because the process of creating is what I love. Nothing to something. I just love creating.

So this year I’m going to create without an excuse.

This will be my process each month for every country.

Week 1 and 2: I’m going to take in the city and figure something to write about.

Week 3: I’m going to write and organize the shoot.

Week 4: Shoot it.

I’ll edit and finish in the next country which might take me a couple weeks since I’m extremely rusty on editing. And when I’m done, I’ll put it up for all of you to check out.

And I don’t care if the films are great.

I care that I create them.

I care that I enjoyed the process.

I care that I learn from my failures. And get better for the next one.

I care that I’m going out of my comfort zone and putting something up that I know is far from perfect. That might be a giant turd named Peter. But that giant turd named Peter is my giant turd. And I created him. And he’s going to splash in the water of this amazing world.

“Hi I’m Peter! I’m Patrick’s splashing Baby Turd! Yeahhhh! I love that I’m alive! Animal Fart!” a quote from Peter my turd baby.

It’s not about putting my demons to bed so I can create again. It’s about taking a shit on my demons. It’s about letting Peter  jump on top of my demons and having a shit fest as he  whoops their ass till they drown in their own tears. Peter is kinda tough, he is literally the shit.

And the reason I haven’t blogged in about a week is because this week I’ve been shooting the first of my 12 short films. And it’s been everything I’ve wanted it to be because I’m actually doing it.










Meet The Remotes 3 of 75: Puppy King, Roommate and Pony Rider

Many of you have asked. Who the hell are you on this 1 year journey with?

With some amazing people. That’s who. Each week I’m going to do a quick little interview with a couple of them so you can meet them. Believe me you don’t want to meet all 75 of them at the same time, your head will explode and getting brain splatter out of your keyboard is a bitch. I’ll still have some brain splatter in my keyboard this week from trying to take so many new people in. Let’s start with 3 this week.

Before the 3 video interviews meeting new remotes. Here’s  an overview of all of them.

Remote year info


AKA “The Puppy King.” 29 years old. From Austria.  Works in HR.


Respect “The Puppy King.”



40 years old. From Atlanta.  Works as a CPA. And my roommate in Cordoba.


38 years old. From Los Angeles.  Works as a Graphic Designer. Also he’s a pony Rider.

If trouble arises don’t despair. Matt and Pat the Pony Riders will be there.


Call me Mr. Mozzarella


This Saturday, 75 people gathered to hear how we are going to live our lives together for a year. We saw a video from Remote Year 1 advising us on Remote Year 3. One bit of advice really stuck with me. I absolutely loved it and it sums up what I want my experience on this journey.

“If you don’t like hiking. Go Hiking. If you don’t like dancing. Go dancing.”

Basically push your personal boundaries and grow. Sounds cheesy when I write it. But call me Mr. Mozzarella then because this boy is doing the string cheese dance this year.

Travis one of our leaders on Remote Year, basically our adult camp counselor, wrote a song and put all 75 people’s names in it. And it was rad. “It’s the beginning of Remote year as we know it.”


After Orientation we took a van 45 minutes out of town to a river.

We drank. We swam. We talked. We bonded.

Beach sand.jpg

Fernet and Coca-Cola with Ice is a very popular drink in Cordoba, Argentina. Not everyone likes it. It’s interesting to say the least. I like it especially when I’m enjoying my third one.

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Here’s all 75 of us in a picture. (word on the street is that there is only 72)

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Then we went to a dinner by a lake and it was a gorgeous view. It even made me look like an angel, I now plan to star in toilet paper commercials leaving millions of baby soft babies out of work. It’s a harsh world babies, it’s harsh.

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A fellow remote is a DJ and made everyone tear it up on the dance floor. Mr. Mozzarella did that string cheese dance and even the lactose intolerant people loved it.

Sat Dance.JPG

We smuggled wine back on the van home. On the way back I might have been drunk. And I might have mooned other vans. Someone else might have mooned other vans too. And sadly we found out it was to dark and our moons went in vain.

I’ll end with a cheesy quote from Mr. Mozzarella.

“I’m blessed. I’m grateful. And this year I’m going to push myself out of my comfort zone. So I can do the string cheese dance all year long. ”

Actually that’s not really a quote but who’s really reading this blog anyways. Animal Fart.

Hi mom!





I bath in Baby Wipes

I am a male. A filthy disgusting farting and pooping male. I smell like a 100 unbathed dogs. Which is why I shower everyday to make that strong poignant smell of barferoni leave my body and go to the sewers down the drain where it belongs where Ninja Turtles can fight it and destroy it. Every man smells. It’s what being a full red blooded man is about. Wow, that last sentence made me feel kind of tough and rad. Like I should post a video of me chopping down a tree and doing pushups with puppies on my back. I wasn’t trying to hype myself up but I did. Ladies, I’m single. And when I’m showered I don’t smell like a wet cat farted on me. Message me.

I got a little distracted in the last paragraph. Main point, men stink. Back to the story.

And for the past two days the water in our Cordoba Crib hasn’t worked.

Which means no showering. Which means this man is going to stink even more. So my roommate and I bought baby wipes and I now smell like fresh baby powder. My whole body waifs of baby butt smell. Have you ever wondered why there isn’t a cologne out there called fresh baby butt? Because it’s repulsive it’s only supposed to be used on your ass not wiped all over your face.

We also bought 7 big bottles of water so we can brush our teeth and if anything else comes up.

But the main problem of not having water is not being able to take a shit. Imagine you wake up and you have a giant log named Henry living in your Fresh Baby butt smelling body. And you can’t poop anywhere. You just sit and wait and hope.

Henry is screaming, “I want Freedom!!!!!!” like he’s Mel Gibson in Braveheart giving a speech to let my bowels explode into the world. He’s like one of those singing Fish singing take me to the River!!!!!! Fuck, I want to take you anywhere that is not in my butt anymore. But I can’t. Because I can’t poop in my own house! Because if it doesn’t go down the toilet our house will smell like corn and peanuts trilogy of shame and I will probably die. And I don’t want my tombstone to read. Man dies from the smell of his own shit. That’s just wrong.

So I have to walk down the street and find a public bathroom smelling and looking like a homeless man asking if I can use their restroom with my non existent Spanish.

It’s actually very funny. Especially since the water started working again this morning. Then it stopped. Then it worked again… I’m going to go and shit while I can. Bye.


99 ATMs. And money ain’t in 1.


It took me two days and 11 ATMs later to actually get cash out. I want to spend money in your country and I can’t. Especially when most places don’t take credit cards. Apparently this is very common in Argentina nowadays. There never is money in ATMs. I mean hardly ever.

And when there is money a que lines up for half a block till it empties.

ATM que

Their cash has been fluctuating a lot and people are making mad dashes and super long lines for the ATMs.

However The exchange rate is amazing. 15 pesos to one US dollar. So everything feels like it’s half price out here. So you can get a bad ass steak dinner with as much wine as you can swim in for about $20 US.

Here’s some Argentina Dolla Bills for you to check out. A bunch of old dudes and a hot lady. I’m thinking Evita but I’m the worst historian in the world so I’m probably wrong.

Arg Money