| F- Mexico |
[Jul. 29th, 2006|07:55 am] |
I cant even punctuate properly on this German laptop!
So, Im down here in Guadalajara for the past week. Nothing will make you love the US and shit Lee Greenwood autographed stars and stripes quite like a trip deep into Mexicos interior.
All that aside, lets bitch about my friends ...
Im visiting a German friend, his Argentinean fiance, and their friends from France and Peru. Great scene.
Every other night, they entice me to what they call a cool club. When we arrive, they all order ONE drink each, nurse it like a drop of dew on a barbed wire fence at Auschwitz, then order sandwiches.
FUCKING SANDWICHES!
So I pound four or five beers the way the good lord intended and they order coffee. FUCKING COFFEE!
Then they ask if Im ready to go home.
WOO HOO! Look out international party goers! Next, we might just take up that filthy child at the intersection when he offers Chicklets. |
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| Day 27 - Far from home |
[Jun. 26th, 2006|12:16 pm] |
I haven't been home since the summer of 1990. My parents are together, they've had two houses since then, but I haven't had a home. I bought a house. I slept in it. I painted it. At times, I was relieved to get there from somewhere else, but...
I have another house and I've never been so far away from home.
It seems to me (or I thought) that somewhere along the way, life was supposed-to start making sense. I don't know much more about where I'm headed today than I did when I was 17 (strangely enough though [re: age 17] I hit that High School English Teacher-thing right on the head). |
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| Day 20 |
[Jun. 19th, 2006|02:55 pm] |
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Urban withdrawal - I don't care what the GD weather is like, I'm going to the city for snobby, over-priced, organic, Epicurean groceries. They shall comfort me in the days to come; Whole Foods "365" labels smiling at me from the pantry as if to say, "Yes. You are so much better than all of them." |
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| Day 17 - continued |
[Jun. 16th, 2006|02:38 pm] |
I took a short drive at lunch today. I was in my pick-up. Even in a truck, I don't blend well, here. First of all, it's not one of those giant Ford F250's that growls, runs on diesel (and the essence of children) -it's a little one. I think it has a vagina.
I saw a billboard; Renaissance Festival Now Interviewing.
Interviewing? I'd like to see some of those resume's;
"Squinty carnival trash - no problem wearing hose. Can slobber-out British accent." |
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| Day 17 |
[Jun. 16th, 2006|10:46 am] |
I've started a compost pile. It's neatly stacked (I hate a mess). It's not so much a compost pile, as a garden I'm too lazy to plant and don't want to take care-of. A rabbit discovered it.
I'm suspicious of the morning power-walking ladies. I think they're the ones who encouraged the Deputy Sheriff to apprise me of the neighborhood speed limit (there are no posted signs and most of the vehicles are four wheelers and horses).
I think they smell, "city," on me. |
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| Day 16 - |
[Jun. 15th, 2006|01:15 pm] |
I'm roughly 2,000 miles from Spokane and 1100 from Sarasota.
You can typically tell what neighborhood you're in by what can be purchased from a drive-through window. Fried okra. In my vehicle. Hot, oily, fried okra. No waiting. |
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cosmicbunnyhole's journal
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