Drunk Travel Log

[Dear Booze]

Mexico 2017 minus nine hours.

Shit. Now I'm ready. Early. it's not like me to be early. I could have slept another 25 minutes.

[oettinger]

May I do some fart noises to cheer you up?

[Dear Booze]

May I do some fart noises to cheer you up?

Been here for several hours now and only managed to offend one queer-sounding mexican (he sounded french to me) bar owner. holy shit. i will probably get my head cut off before this trip is over.

Viva la something

[Artful Drunktective]

May I do some fart noises to cheer you up?

Been here for several hours now and only managed to offend one queer-sounding mexican (he sounded french to me) bar owner. holy shit. i will probably get my head cut off before this trip is over.

Viva la something

You? Offensive?! Obviously these people do not know that Dick Eagles Esq. is the Prince AND Mayor of the great land of Arizonia!

My advice to you sir is to use some of that money you never gave the dead hookers and tip them better. Then they won't pee in your strawberry
margarita.

[mistah willies]

What will be your first drink of the day today in Mehiccuppo?

[Dear Booze]

First drink was a beer. During the trip from the airport to the hotel, the cab driver stopped at a liquor store. We purchased a gew six packs and drank a couple beers in the cab. It was all downhill after that.

[Dear Booze]

Fun fact: "mexico" is Latin for "I'm a total asshole".

[Nausea]

I could have slept another 25 minutes.

It's amazing how precious those 25 minutes can seem. But they always run out.

[Dear Booze]

Gooch, Mrs. Gooch and Allen have joined us for the rest of the Mexican experience. A tilt in the universe just took place. Did you feel it? Things will end in a bad way. These locals like the work "beheading". We are fucked.

[Dear Booze]

We sat by the poil for the majority of the day. At 7:00pm we went to dinner and wild drinks.

At Squid Roe, I convinced a rough lesbian that I had AIDS. Not HIV, but full-blown AIDS and would die within a week ot two. She bought me a drink.

At the next place, I cut into an expert salsa dancing couple's dancing shit and got spun around like a record baby, right round like a record right round.

After that, I drank with a Korean War Vet. He bought me a drink and we fist bumped.

Next, we drank with an ex pat bar owner who used to be a Chicago cop. He sucked. I made up stories about my grandfather and dad. He believed me. The punchline to all of my stories was "Well, he should have seen that coming, right?"

[mistah willies]

^ ^ ^

So funny! Like a personal comedy club, one drink minimum, but they don't know that they're the audience for the performance.

... Salsa version of that gheyties song? Friggin Hispanicals, of course that'd be a thing that exists.

[Dear Booze]

Other things I didn't remember about last night but have been informed about today:

While walking back to our hotel, we tried to take a shortcut and walked between a couple of buildings from the main street toward the ocean. As we rounded a narrow corner that opened to the beach, we discovered that the only way out was to either turn around and backtrack to the road, or walk accross a stage where a shitty cover band was performing to about three dozen drunk tourists.

I guess we decided that the worst thing that could happen would be something in line with Adventures in Babysitting. "Nobody leaves this stage without singin' the blues."

https://youtu.be/bymE4SuxyR0

But instead, we surprised the band. I guess they thought we we going to atrack them or something because they stopped playing and moved quickly out of our path.

We climbed down from the four foot stage, walked accross the concrete patio, and disappeard down the dark beach.

[Dear Booze]

Yesterday was dedicated to traditional tourist activities.

We found the beach bar where the big fat sombrero-wearing man pours tequila into your mouth, shakes your head, and blows a whistle.

We haggled for shitty souvenirs.

We watched some Sineloian dancers.

We drank shitty beer.

We ate shitty tacos.

We shared a case of diarrhea.

[Dear Booze]

Today, it became apparent that Mexicans are gifted with a superior sense of hearing. The quietest whisper of "strip club", or "handjob", or "bookmaking" can be heard from several yards away and accross any busy downtown mexican street. Then they pounce and provide two-for-one coupons for anything you desire.

[mistah willies]

Today, it became apparent that Mexicans are gifted with a superior sense of hearing. The quietest whisper of "strip club", or "handjob", or "bookmaking" can be heard from several yards away and accross any busy downtown mexican street. Then they pounce and provide two-for-one coupons for anything you desire.

While that is certainly a sort of "Darwin-ish" capability, I'd be more likely to attribute it to your appearance, my good man.

For those of you whom do not yet engage with that Skype thing, be warned:

Dear Booze looks like the sort of fellow who would appreciate a strip club/handjob and bookie, sometimes all at once.

Mexico loves you, baby!