cosmicbunnyhole

F- Mexico

2006-07-29T06:18:49Z

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.

Inevitability and the Swastika on the Synagogue Door

2006-07-21T21:34:13Z

Also known as, Day 52; Food, fatigue, and writer's cramp.

I like pain relievers (kind-of wish the OTC's worked, though).

I purchased a bicycle; a Harley Davidson bicycle. No kidding. I had no idea such a thing existed (HD, specifically - I was onto that bicycle-thing YEARS ago).

I urinate more than you. I have a desire to cook spicy beans in a crock pot. I am frequently distracted by thoughts of what could possibly be in my mailbox right now. The strangest question ever posed to me was, "I have a porno on VHS. Would you like to have it?" The question came from my grandmother (the one who shot her cat with a .357 in the living room [not the one that's already dead]).

Day 30 - Accidental Charity

2006-06-29T15:52:02Z

My bizarre decision-making skills caused me to sell a house with a tiny lawn and purchase one on 3/4 acre. My small engine karma hasn't been polished in many moons, so my lawn mower (a house-warming gift from the old [le] hermitage) after seeing the new property, committed hari-kari out of despair. It is now in the area's equivalent to Pet Cemetery;

I arrived home from work, and the lawn was mowed. Hmm. A welcome to the neighborhood, or, this jagoff is slacking?

To ponder this mystery, I stripped nekkid from the waist-down and fell onto the bed. The doorbell rang. Having removed my shirt and tie, I discovered that my undershirt was in fact a Gay Pride Parade sponsored by Planned Parenthood T-shirt.

For those of you just tuning-in; I'm deep in the Redneck country -

Day 27 - Far from home

2006-06-26T17:20:59Z

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).

Day 22 - The Sail of Donalbain

2006-06-21T15:24:08Z

We're not buying it, anymore. The generation X, I mean (nor the Y or "echo Boom" as I've heard them called). It was all a lie. Every bit of it. My father is the last person who got to keep his job throughout his entire career. The rest of us? Me?:

We went to college, stayed out of trouble, saved our money, gave two weeks notice, donated, volunteered, and got fucked anyway.

We smiled, agreed, made the deal, shook hands, signed on the dotted line, and got fucked.

We visualized, believed, buckled-down, synergized, sharpened our saws, and got fucked.

Day 21 - Gastronomical Debauchery

2006-06-20T19:17:28Z

Rain-soaked streets of a big city smell like rain-soaked streets of other big cities (not always necessarily) in the contiguous US. My bank was closed. I went for smokes; Nat Sherman MCD instead of the usual American Spirit. Sauntering (as I’m known to do) into a hip (ahem) retailer of musical recordings, I attempted to purchase a Bright Eyes cd (recommended to me by my current favorite person on this rock [whom I was also waiting for to complete her work day]). No luck.

Whole Foods (the one located 1500 miles from Buffalo, NY and 1200 miles from Scottsdale, AZ) was where I shopped and we (above-mentioned girl) met.

I purchased (roughly) two dozen items carefully culled because of their lack of corn syrup (of any type). I’m funny that way: I’ve spent most of my life making Keith Richards look like Euell Gibbons, but the corn syrup …

We continued to the beach and made it there the last minute or so the sun was around (we have precious few photographs) and took a walk along the sand. She found a crab. And shrimp. That gave me an idea; we need stuff like this. Fried. Over-priced. Piled-up so big, we'll need to-go boxes that'll make my truck smell like a Latvian morgue drawer in a power-outage.

Day 20

2006-06-19T19:58:37Z

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."

Day 17 - continued

2006-06-16T19:54:20Z

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."

Day 17

2006-06-16T15:50:29Z

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.

Day 16 -

2006-06-15T18:15:16Z

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.