write this entry from Pittsburgh, at a cafe called Beehive, run by guys with tattoos and piercings that fit sweet and cereal bars with songs by Depeche Mode and The Smiths in the background. All real estate is vintage, there is graffiti on the walls, lamps on tables, messages like "God Did not Save Him" \u200b\u200bin the bathroom and a bicycle hanging on the wall. Cheers. But afterwards I will write to the Steel City.
Chicago: very hot. Is no longer the mobsters in the street, but instead a bunch of youngsters in short-shorts shouting "wahooo" on the sidewalks. One night I got to John Hancock, one of the tallest skyscrapers, with the sole purpose of taking a martini and enjoying the spectacular nightlife of the city. As I sat at the bar, his hair pasted to his forehead from the heat and my muddy Converse, I started chatting with a couple of Southerners who were very friendly and very entertaining. A cliché down.
But there is another, since I arrived at the airport in Atlanta, where I level, I found. The fat black woman scolding, finger-snapping while he was a skinny mashed who listened without knowing what to say. An obese couple with red skin, each using a visor, eating McDonalds while occupied two seats with their huge nalgotas gringo. Tens or hundreds of "California gurls" using short corner panties, blonde and tanned man, chewing gum and using overly catch phrase like . And the inevitable paisa, with very long black shirt, pants and tennis cholos pure white.
Finally, Midway Airport, I found the Tony Fayer. Needless to say, whether in Mexico we are always talking nonsense pure nerd until we bleed the throats, here we did as we walked to die for downtown .
Some photos for your viewing enjoyment:
This photo was my favorite. Chicago is the capital of architecture.
In the famous "bean"-in is actually a tag as a sculptor, where, if set, can appreciate the Fajr taking the photo.
At Navy Pier: distorting mirrors (which since the Mac there and do not cause grace).
Two mexicanotes in Yankeeland, we.
(well, legally Fayer gringo, we) (do not the expect, we).
The eye looks at you. 
chinguísimo Building A "and so."
More old buildings and everything.
Leaving the metro station The 18th, in the Mexican barrio now more hipster, Taran: carnitas Uruapan.
The classic Chicago theater.
pinchurriento In a McDonalds on Navy Pier, as if we had never seen those balls with electricity.
Chicago from the lake.
In the subway station outside of Chinatown, before I could pose. That pinchi Fayer tourists a bad photographer, ca.
Wheel happy fortune.
died laughing with a warning on the beer cooler in a Seven-Eleven.
***
The Lollapalooza: splendid. But there are also various adventures, photos, videos and happy rides on bicycles at night then I will relate. Chicago was an adventure in the rain, heat, sun, chance encounters on the street (one afternoon and I were the Fajr sentadotes on a bench and spent the comrades that Chilango.com) conocencias dispensable, meetings essential, reunions (I saw my friend Pau, who in 2003 moved to Chicago), long walks through the city and many conversations. Definitely go back.
Wait in a following post:
1) Details of Lollapalooza. Lady Gaga "showed his penis? Is it really Anand Wilder of Yeasayer more stupidly handsome type of indie? Do they get too drunk gringos as they say? Did I see a seizure live? "I invented at least three different nationalities? Did I auditory continuous orgasms? All this and more.
2) My tattoo. Chance.
3) continued.
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