Ever happen to you: You're whiling a morning away with your best friend and sucking his cock; things are going pretty good--he's a squirmin', about to blow when the Mother pops in and literally freaks out? The old gash went freakin' ape-shit! Carlos and I were caught enflagrante with our pants down. There was much yelling, beating of chests, gnashing of teeth and whirling of rosaries. Mother Vasquez kept pointing at me with her gnarled finger and then the picture of Jesus glaring down from the wall with that condescending smirk of his.
I was asked to leave.
Bags were packed, a taxi summoned, and I rolled down the
mountain into The Red Zone, that warm cuddly cocoon of sin with only one
hundred and twenty dollars and a pack of Lucky Strikes to my name. Rented a
crappy $ 10-a-night room at Hotel Coliseo and then did what I always do when I
am stressed out. I went to the movies.
Viewed Hostage with Bruce Willis. Pretty decent action
flick. Enjoyed the previews a bit more. War of the Worlds and The Hitchhikers
Guide to The Galaxy. Can't wait!! Snuck in and damaged my brain with
Sahara...good God! What a piece of celluloid crap!
These films being seen in San Diego, I returned to Tijuana
via the trolley to gather my marbles and form a plan. I sat at a sidewalk cafe
in Plaza Santa Cecilia sipping a cappuccino and watching the carnival of flesh.
My mind is in a muddle. I have asked several friends if I could bunk at their
place, but they all proved to be unreliable worthless shits. How quickly people
turn. All they want from me is a piece of ass. Most folks on this planet are
not worthy of my attention anyhoo, can't depend on nobody but myself, I
suppose. I'm not bitter...I'll just get myself out of this mess. I always do.
Walking to the Internet cafe, that hub of homosexual
intellects and purveyors of porn, I was approached by this horrendous
prostitute. Hair a rat’s nest, face of a battle axe, drooping, floppy boobies
in a dirty black tube top, flab spilling out of her black caprice, and dirty
bare feet. She smelt like rotted pussy.
"Hey, baby!" She blurted in English. "Wanna
little fucky-sucky?"
"No. You need to go back to the States and reevaluate
your life." I retorted, she was obviously a junky American.
"You think I'm ugly, baby, huh?" She said
earnestly.
"No. Not exactly. I think you're...well, you're
special."
She smiled a smile filled with rotted brown teeth,
"Thank ya, honey!" And wobbled back to the Coahuila Alley.
My life can't be all that bad, reet?
4 comments:
Sweetie...when will people learn? NEVER and I DO mean NEVER enter a movie with the words Penelope Cruz anywhere near the marquee!
Hmmm with that in mind your life will be much better!
...not even Matthew McCounaghey's abs are worth two hours of Penelope!
are you kidding me? you're life is an adventure... one i only dream about.
good luck on finding a place.
"...not even Matthew McCounaghey's abs are worth two hours of Penelope!"
I don't know Jose... Matthew is almost worth anything... Even Penelope's irritating ass.
~Kate
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