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Mexico. I had a choice to have fun or buy gifts for people that I needed to buy gifts for. I chose to buy gifts, and everyone who I bought gifts for told me I should have had the fun, but I think I made the right decision. Cancun is going to be here tomorrow, and besides, the college girls will still want to hook up with me when I am 35, right?

It looked like a fun city. It looked to me just like Miami Beach looks from the shots in CSI (I’ve been to Miami, but never Miami Beach) but it was pretty much dead when I got there at 7AM. I kinda wish I’d stayed.

I sincerely doubt that he is the nicest guy now, since it has been two months since I sold him the motorcycle and still haven’t received payment for it.

He never picks up the phone, doesn’t return e-mails, hangs up on me when I actually get through.

So if you’re in Belize, and you’re in Corozal, go look up Douglas Bowden, and kick him in the nuts for me because he owes me money.

Every one of these big stores gave away free shots of tequila. That is a big plus, especially if the tequila is $60 a bottle in Mexico.

You know those people that say, “Oh, I’m good with every alcohol but X. Give me everything but X and I’ll be fine.” That stuff is all mental. I used to think the same way about tequila until I had some Patron. It was at that moment that I realized what tequila was supposed to taste like and that it was delicious. Then there are people who say they can’t mix their liquors and I say bull. It doesn’t matter.

Long Island Iced Tea – case in point.

If I’d have received payment for my motorcycle, I am positive that I would have got myself a bedroom in one of the hotels on the strip and had a mind-blowing spring break experience with two or three nineteen year-olds . . .

But alas
No cash
What a dumbass
Back to Mass

So how much did they pay to license these characters to use in front of this location. Wouldn’t they have been better off dumping it into a restaurant marketing consultant or something?

There is something to be said for the Caribbean, even though I like the Pacific climate better, the white sand beaches are unparalleled on the west coast.

I really didn’t do anything here today.

Got a Meat Lover’s pizza at Pizza Hut, walked into a private resort and chilled out by the pool, bought some trinkets for the people back home, hung out at the airport trying to get an earlier flight back, and hung out around the bus station on the internet.

What a boring day. If I had $50 more dollars, I would have bought a bracelet to one of the club clusters that were selling all you can drink wristbands and experienced the mayhem of Cancun Spring break.

Too bad I was flat f’ing broke.

Is this my third post complaining about how broke I was? Well, I was pretty damn broke and it’s pretty much all I can remember about being there.

The only bar that I actually wanted to go in in Cancun, and I didn’t get to check it out. It seemed like the only thing closed on the strip.

I took the bus back and forth to downtown Cancun twice. I must have took sixty pictures of the flag as I was going by, and this was the best one.

I have very few memories of Mexico, I was basically at the airport.

You already can’t tell that I am not in Miami Beach.

What a perfect slogan to rope in all their shitfaced nineteen year-old clientele. I went for it.

What do you think that says about me? Am I an alcoholic, or do I have the mindset of a nineteen year-old . . . or both?

But seriously, Mexico, tell us how you really feel about smoking.

Not really.

Everyone spoke English. Everything was in American prices (and the Starbucks was higher). I don’t even remember the announcements being in Spanish, but I might be going too far with that assumption.

I didn’t know if I had any money left in my account, but I know I didn’t have $20 to take out at the ATM. I think I had about $7, and I holding off on buying anything because I didn’t want any overdraft fees (I got knocked with $200 of overdraft fees this week, by the way. Thanks for remembering my deposit, Wilkens).

I spent four hours in the airport waiting for my flight, because I couldn’t afford anything else. I bought a pack of gum at the bus station because it would stave off hunger longer than anything else on the rack.

After not eating anything for eighteen hours, I finally cracked at 11:50 and bought a burger with fries and onion rings at johnny rockets. Usually, food you get after not having food for a while is the best ever, but the burger was well to the point of burger return. I didn’t, but the fries were freezing, and I am a stickler for hot fries, so I got some new ones.

If I was going to end up paying a $35 overdraft fee for this food, you better believe that I was going to do whatever was in my power to make this one of the best meals that I’d eat down here.

I figured that I would catch the exact moment that I left Central America.

I mean, I caught the moment, but I didn’t get the shot that I expected to.

The divider between first class and coach fell down. It took a piece of the overhead compartment down with it, and you can see both in that picture.

The black guy with the surprised look on his face was hit by the falling plastic, but it didn’t hurt him in the least. I think his daughter was sitting next to me, but I don’t know, it could have been his wife – they had deep African accents. After the piece was fixed, the flight attendant came over and offered the two complimentary drinks, but didn’t ask me if I wanted one.

“Hey,” I said, “I have the whole thing on video.”

She immediately responded, “Well than you can have two!”

Adios, amigos.

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