Tag Archives: Lisbon

Portuguese Heavyweight Wrestling Champion of Portugal

For years I’ve dreamt of becoming a pro wrestling superstar, smashing chumps over the head with chairs and flexing my glistening muscles for my adoring fans. But I’m lazy and usually hungover, so I’ve never bothered to make my dream a reality. Fate, however, decided that hammering big, sweaty blokes in the ring pummeling idiots in the squared circle was my calling and so, by pure chance, I ended up as a wrestling legend. This is the epic story of how I became the Heavyweight Champion of Portugal.

I spotted a poster for Centro Treinos Wrestling taped to a pole while I was drinking in downtown Lisbon, and decided it’d be a laugh to rock up and see the show. I followed the directions on the poster, keeping an eye out for a grand arena fitting such a renowned organisation, but when I arrived at Maria Pia Sport Clube it was the size of a Polish shithouse. Loud gangasta rap music was playing inside, so I finished my beer and raced in.

The ring was set up in the middle of a run-down outdoor basketball court, with a dozen or so curious onlookers scattered around. When I swaggered in to take my seat, the fans rose to their feet and started cheering me, so I hammed it up and flexed my guns. With my chiseled physique they obviously thought I was one of the wrestlers, so I played along and slapped high-fives and took selfies with my new fans, until I felt a spirited tap on my shoulder.

I turned around to see a huge, scary-looking guy snarling at me. He had a shiny gold belt wrapped around his waist, fancy tights on his bottom, and was obviously furious that I was stealing his spotlight.

“Yo gringo,” he spat. “Why don’t you sit down before the Champ makes you sit down?”

When I didn’t do as I was told, the brute pushed me to the ground, leading to a round of furious boos from the audience. I was shocked, hurt, and angry, but knew there was no point in fighting back against such a monster. I grabbed a cheap cup of beer, sat back and dried my tears as the champ introduced himself as ‘Pai Grande’ Leo Rossi.

The first couple of matches weren’t too bad, and I actually had a great time sitting out in the sun and watching people fight. The first contest had some creepy masked dude named Symbiote punching on with a handsome, long-haired fella who the two ladies in the crowd (both morbidly obese and lacking in teeth) were going gaga for. After that was some weird intergender match where another masked duded named Red Eagle kicked the shit out of some sheila called Claudia Bradstone. It ended when Symbiote raced in to beat the crap out of them, setting up a tag team main event classic for the ages: Symbiote and Rossi vs Eagle and Bradstone!

Then some cunts came out and waved their Star Wars lightsabres around for 45 minutes. Their toys must’ve had flat batteries, because they didn’t light up and they had to make the noises with their mouths. I was hoping Darth Vader would rock up and behead hem, but ti wasn’t to be. They didn’t seem to know what they were doing and it had nothing to do with wrestling, so I drank heavily and ended up furiously banging on the club’s only toilet door. After what seemed like an eternity, it flung open and an obviously annoyed Rossi stumbled out, bringing a putrid stench with him.

“I thought I told you to sit down and shut up, amigo,” he snarled, before pushing me into the toilet and slamming the door, trapping me in there with the crawling smell of his diarrhea.

I finally busted out during a match between some big-titted stunna and a dweeb called Nelson, and when that was done Rossi and Symbiote sauntered back out. The bullies were talking shit and acting like tools, and when Rossi saw me he almost lost it. They had a hard-hitting encounter with their opponents that spilled out onto the basketball court, and when Rossi dragged his victim near me, he told me I was next. I wasn’t going to hang around and wait for that, so I grabbed my folding chair and brained the bastard with it.

Rossi was furious! With blood pouring down his head, he chucked me into the ring and screamed that he’d put his championship on the line against me. The crowd roared as I took him down with a brutal DDT, but he popped up and hit me with a wicked senton bomb. I gave him a blistering Samoan drop, but Rossi hit back with a sickening sidewalk slam. I wish I had photos of this, but as you can understand, I was a bit busy. After half an hour of blood and beatings, I chokeslammed him onto a pile of thumbtacks and then made him tap out with a Boston crab. The referee handed me the belt and I was chaired into the streets of Lisbon by my supporters while Rossi wept in the gutter. Finally, I had fulfilled my destiny.

I lost the belt in an armwrestle with a vagrant later that night, but I had become the most feared wrestler on the planet. Every man in Portugal wanted to shake my hand, every woman in Portugal wanted to shake my penis with her mouth, so I could no longer stay in Lisbon. I fled to the airport and hopped on the first place to my nearest safe house… a little shack in the south of Brazil, where I knew someone would be waiting to look after me…

LisVegas: The Six Coolest Things About Lisbon (Part II)

ORIGINAL SINTRA

The medieval town of Sintra is less than an hour from the heart of Lisbon by train, and is home to a really cool castle, so you’d have to be a complete Wally not to go out there. The town itself is situated in a lush valley, with the ancient monuments perched high up on the cliffs surrounding it. There are Thai tuk-tuks to take you to the top (but, sadly, no Thai ladyboys to take you to the brink of orgasmic bliss), or else it’s a pleasant walk up the hill. The trail winds along cobblestone streets and through centuries-old villages, all to the sounds of birds singing.

Castelo dos Mouros was built by the Moors (Dudley, Mandy, Roger and Billy) in the 10th century to defend the city against evil, bible-thumping Christians, but these days has been overrun by Chinese tourists. It costs eight Euros to visit, so I waited until the guard was looking the other way and snuck in. Shit, no wonder the bloody Christians conquered the place so easily!

IT’S HIP TO BE SQUARE

Portugal once suffered from the highest rate of drug abuse in Europe, so back in 2001 the government decriminalised Persian Rugs and saw a massive drop in the number of people wandering around with needles in their arms. You wouldn’t know it from walking around Lisbon’s many scenic town squares, though, because they’re absolutely crawling with crack-peddling cretins, deadshits and low-lifes.

It’s a shame, because the architecture surrounding the squares – Praça do Comércio being the most prominent – is stunning, with beautiful old buildings running up the surrounding hills and impressive statues gazing proudly over the city. It’s kinda hard to soak in the historic ambiance when some fuckwit in a fedora is trying to sell you a bag of cocaine. I’m always one to make the best of a bad situation, so I grabbed some magic mushrooms and a handful of Viagra tablets off a scummy-looking little bloke, and spent the night wanking myself off while watching episodes of Powerpuff Girls back at the hostel. Good times!

PUNK IN DRUBLIC

Grab a few dozen cheap cans of Super Bock from a shop, find a park without too many vagrants in it, quaff the booze, argue with a dog, pass out in the sun, shit yourself. It’s one of Lisbon’s greatest cultural experiences!

LisVegas: The Six Coolest Things About Lisbon

1. I FORTE THE LAW

Lisbon doesn’t have a spectacular harbour like Sydney, Hong Kong or Woy Woy, but it is on the water, and has a few things to offer those who are after a stroll along the agua. The 25 de Abril bridge looks a bit like that one in San Francisco, but hopefully not as many people commit suicide by jumping off it. Maybe it’s because the bridge is next to Santuário de Cristo Rei, a statue of Jesus that looks just like the one in Rio. I like to think the big fella has a quiet word with anyone feeling blue enough to end it all.

A short powerwalk along the Tagus River reveals the enormous Padrão dos Descobrimentos, a 52-metre-high monument to Portugal’s history of exploration. It was finished in 1960 and boasts 33 statues of famous Portuguese explorers, all of whom have funny names. It costs five Euros to climb to the top, but I didn’t because I got distracted by a chick with big tits and forgot to.

The best thing to see along the waterfront is the 500-year-old Belém Tower, which was originally built defend the city before being converted into a place to imprison homosexuals. Once it became obvious that the homosexuals quite enjoyed being locked up in a dungeon with dozens of like-minded individuals, they were all drowned in the river and it was converted into a regular prison, with only a three percent drop in the amount of gay sex.

2. BOUND FOR GLORIA

Lisbon is really hilly and the Portuguese only have little legs, so they built a bunch of funicular railways to carry them home after loading up on bacalhau and vinho verde. The most famous of the three remaining funiculars is the Elevador da Glória, which was handily located just around the corner from my hostel (which was very handy for getting home after drinking my body weight in cheap supermarket beer).

Gloria was opened in 1885 and rolls a few hundred metres from Baixa up to Bairro Alto. It costs three Euros to head up or down, so it’s best to buy a transport day pass for six Euros and ride the bloody thing all day long. The best part is that when you get off at the top, you can dance around like you’re in the opening of Full House.

3. BLISTER IN THE SUNSET

There are few things more enjoyable than smashing ice-cold beers while watching a glorious sunset in an exotic city. Alright, maybe watching the Raiders beat Manly 50-0 in the grand final with an endless supply of free beer and meat pies at hand would top it, but you get the point. Lisbon is an ace place for watching the sun go down because it faces west over the ocean and has heaps of stunning lookouts.

Miradouro de Santa Catarina and Miradouro Santa Luzia are great spots, but the best I found was the snappily-titled Miradouro da Nossa Senhora do Monte. The name means ‘Our Lady of the Hill’, and it’s easily accessible by wandering through the Graca district’s labyrinthine alleyways until you either stumble upon it or die of starvation. Situated in the grounds of an ancient church, the view is tops, but the best thing is that there’s a bar serving nice big jugs of Sagres (and some overpriced food, so bring a bag of chips). By the time the sun finally disappears, you’ll be so smashed they’ll have to roll you back down the hill!