Madrid in two words.

1. Ham.
2.Mullets.

And if I had an optional third word, it would be "conflagublatious", which is a new word that I have just created to describe the ridiculous amount of partying this place has.
I was at a club where the DJ, named Gregor Tresher, if I remember correctly, played for 6 1/2 hours while we were there. We got there between 1 and 1:30 and he had presumably been playing since at least 11. I didn't even realize how long it had been until I started to get tired from dancing and looked at my watch and saw it was 6 am.
When we left, this group of kids invited us to some sort of after party, which we might have gone to if we hadn't been so exhausted. They were fine because they were on a ton of ecstacy.
There was also a kid who kept wanting to have his picture taken with me. He literally grabbed me out of the crowd and I thought something was up at first, but just protected my wallet and smiled for the cameraphone. But apparently it was too dark. So he took my picture again. And again. And then 5 minutes later. He asked me to do this at least 7 or 8 times over the course of a half hour or something. He seemed more sad and apologetic each time but he finally got a halfway decent one. He didn't mention anything about the movie, but my only explanation for his behavior was that he thought I was Napoleon Dynamite. However, this does not explain some girl coming up to me outside, patting me on the back and saying, "Tscheuess. It's good, ja!" or maybe "ist gut, ja!" as if I was Austrian. It was late, and I was a bit drunk, exhausted, etc, so I didn't question it.

In other news, the Museo de Jamon count has risen to 5, as well as at least two Paraiso de Jamons (Ham paradises). At a bar last night, they gave us potato chips with shaved ham on top as a snack. And when they give you shaved ham, they are cutting it off of a giant leg of ham that is often mounted into a holder on the bar right next to you. These things must weight at least 50 pounds. And every place that serves food has at least 20 of them hanging on the wall. I have often walked into a bar and saw before me a literal wall of ham. Max has given up all pretense of vegetarianism for the time being.

And speaking of the sweet mistress Jamon, I am sleepy and she awaits me in the smoky, flavorful mists of my dreams. Buenos noches.