Tuesday, 15 August 2006

Drunken Maneuvers In The Dark

There are a few things in life, in my opinion, that you should always be worried about. For instance, catching hepatitis from a public toilet seat or getting your tie caught in the fucking paper shredder, I for one always look out for being decapitated by thick metal wire that suddenly and without any real warning becomes flexed. Another biggy is angering the locals where ever you may be and I think put enough effort in during my time in Acapulco to escape just about unharmed, I wont be needing the UN Peace Keeper Escort I gave the local embassy a heads-up about when I arrived at least, even if a fat Che Guevara did threaten me with death a few days ago. All some bad noise about using my bed sheet as a cape, no bother though, I was more than happy to go to bed by the time he started ranting, I hadnt slept in about 30 hours anyway and desperately needed some shut eye.

Its overall been quite a wild ride, usually its time for some social commentary now, the only thing I will mention is the naivety of some people and how certain religions with extreme leanings not only cause all number of problems for the masses, but for individuals as well and in the most peculiar of ways. A Muslim American girl by the name of Clare happened across my path almost a week ago now, she seemed eager and pleasant enough so we had a talk about various things. Throughout her youth she was a hardline Muslim, forced to wear the postbox head gown and body covering thing, not even allowed to look into the eye of any male. She chose to rebel, now on her own, in a foreign country by becoming a stripper. Now Im no oil painting myself but this girl made the wild street dogs cry as she walked along, after making friends with the owner of the local stripclub she was soon up on the palladium, it was unreal. We went to watch and give some moral support, the place was a dive, a small Asian woman came up to me in a very stereotypical fashion and offered me sucky sucky for $100, I told her to go buy me a drink and Id think about it expecting to be laughed at and left alone for the rest of the night. When she asked me what drink I wanted, thinking quickly, I asked for a cloud in a brandy glass and after a few more choice words she finally left me alone, anyway, back to Clare. This girl was clearly a virgin, she confessed to being very unused to any physical contact, this night shes getting bought pinaciladas by fat Mexicans and being groped left right and centre. Arh for her mother to see her now I thought, Thank your god now HAH, you turned your daughter into a whore you fucking brainless gimp. There was no choice, when her breasts flopped out of the too small boob tube she was wearing we had to leave, there is only so much a grown man can take, so we left with haste, to the nearest bar, flaming tequila and khalua shots to help numb our minds, I shudder at just the thought of that place.

Plenty more speedy moves in the dead of night, causing a few problems but nothing that I couldnt handle. I had this poor bastard driving around for almost 2 hours up and down the mountain side as the sun rose looking for a mountain jaguar or puma, Im almost 100% certain they dont exist in these parts, but I needed the drive, it didnt cost all that much either as far as I can remember, agreeing a price before you enter the taxi is usually essential, trying to drunkenly explain youll pay him to drive around the small mountain roads to catch a wild tiger like beast is more difficult that you may think.

But alas, there were yet more drunken nights, as you can well imagine. I made a good friend by the name of Evan whilst here, hailing from Mexico City I knew wed get along from the moment I saw his back, covered with H.R Giger tattoos, it takes an interesting person to get blistered and boiled mutants all over your body. The picture below pretty much sums up my time here, I have no idea where it was taken or who the guy is but it makes me laugh and will always remind me of my two chased weeks in Acapulco. Its come to an end with extraordinary speed, but everything needs to move on. To Hollywood now, and to start with real hedonism, in the worlds capital of deviancy with a degenerate on every second corner and the millionaires filling in the gaps its going to be another extraordinary time. I will write when I arrive.

Your friend in debauchery.

Monday, 7 August 2006

How to make a rapid exit.

Arh, life in Acapulco, its hot and bothered, all hustle and bustle, if its not cars exploding from over heating its the god damn Mexicans and their morning shreaks. Im kidding of course, theyre not damned by God, the magnificent cross bearing down on the city takes care of that surely, over powering the fact that I get asked if I want to go to a brothel every 40 to 50 seconds. Im not sure I look that desperate, perhaps its my transparent texture, it seems to bemuse and frighten everywhere I go. At the beach for instance I sent a small child running in terror, all he did was look at me, my bare Anglo-Celtic chest in all its glory, reflecting the sun with great strength. The poor child, Id imagine, had thought hed seen a ghost, a particularly muscular and striking one, but a ghost none the less. My Mexican friend Evan said to me in an entirely serious manner, it is like your skin, it battle with the sun, and the sun, it always lose, I began to laugh before he put his hand on my shoulder and continued, I do not joke. Theres little a man can do other than smile and not politely in those situations, as far as an Englishman is concerned at any length.

As Im on the subject of beaches, Ive never taken too kindly to them, I feel if I wanted miniature shards of glass stuffed into my pockets and into every other ungodly orifice Id smash a telephone booth up and get the job done properly. Recent events have added to my natural aversion, after a lengthy night at Paradise, now my local haunt, and some wrestling with some Mexicans,

My newly acquired friends and I decided to take a late stroll along the calming beach. All was well and we were at peace with the world, the sea leisurely strolled up the sand and we were all drunk enough not to have any hassle in the world. I had my snake skin cowboy boots on and was pleased at the fact they let no sand into my socks, I was happy, but then came the rush, the mescal tequila took hold of my brain, I remember someone earlier in the night shouting TAKE HOLD OF YOUR MIND, ITLL BE IN THE BAY SOON, and jesus it almost was. After taking a photo of this portly fellow

All I seem to recall is running along the beach, at some speed for a drunken man on sand, away from two or three screaming Mexicans, I could have sworn they were wearing huge sombreros with belts of bullets along their chests, but that could have just been the mescal twisting savagely at my mind. I made a quick escape luckily, into a beachside club, its hard trying to blend in though when youre as white as the driven snow surrounded by chocolate coloured Mexicans. I soon spotted an exit however and was on my way to the main street, a clean get away. I feel my cowboy boots gave me the edge on the sand over their flip flops or I would have surely been done for. The reason behind this chase though will have to sleep with the fishes, in this swollen bay of tourism and decadence, for I cannot remember and I will have to settle for that.

More of these tales will have to wait, Ive quite outstayed my welcome in the local starbucks, leeching their free internet on my wireless laptop. And of course, theres always more mescal to be drank.

Farewell, Los Angeles here I come.

Friday, 4 August 2006


It seems to me the Latino women have quite the propensity for fatness. This may come across as inherently racist, much the same as saying black people are good at sports, Japanese people are naturally good at maths and the French are tragically poor at winning wars. However, the former of these statements steps closer to truth, in my own thoughts at least, on a daily basis. Even the thin ones look on the verge of maximum density, ready to explode in a sea of cake and ice cream. This isnt the only observation Ive made whilst being in Acapulco though, the men are all quite portly in stature as well and even though it is a scorching 30c daily, with upwards of 80% humidity, a cruel tick of nature seems to have been played on these people to stop them from sweating. So whilst they bask in the thick air, no weight is lost, not even in liquid form. Im sure my rounded Mexican friend Bernado shakes his fist in temper at the skys each night, but he called me Casper when I wondered in drunk at 5am having lost my shirt, so he can fuck off.

HAH, ye-Gods! Its been an interesting few days, I tried my luck the other night and Im getting the fear just thinking about it. A group of three Canadian girls, pretty, quick witted and of Anglo bloodlines as far as I can recall, we all stood into the night together with Mexicans and Irish, heading to La Paladium. One of Acapulcos more up market clubs, at roughly £30 to enter, we were all dressed to kill and ready to drink. After such a high cover charge alcohol was free all night, beginning with a few long island ice teas and some beer with mescal on the side I soon hit the brandy hard, along with the Irish company I was holding. The whole place was adorned with round tabled stalls, cushioned, clothed and candle lit the waiter would bring whatever was ordered without question, which was just as well because we were all very thirsty. The grand feeling of being Tony Montana was visible on nearly everyones beaming face, free drink and high riding attitudes are never a good mix, not everyone can own the world.

The night remained free of aggravation on the whole part and as the hours grew thin, the sun rose we ate hot dogs and played in the mild early morning air. I followed the Irish and Canadians back to their hotel and as I bid farewell to the Canadians, I seemed to be passed a bottle of vodka by the Irish, arh, one for the road, I thought. The remaining memories of that early morning are distant and quite horrid, trying to sneak into bed with the Canadians girls, who without my knowledge, seemed to have acquired a huge Persian body guard, caused all manner of bad noise. The immanent prospect of being turned into a human hamburger from a 30th floor balcony fall scared me enough to leap into some primal super fast thinking beast. Talking rather vividly and at immense speed about the blood bath to ensue and spending decades in the hotbox of a Mexican prison I was allowed to go free with a perhaps we shouldnt email after all.

More ugly memories follow, none of which I care to re-visit, horrible one eyed black dwarf men, all my shirts suddenly and without explanation turning themselves inside out and folding themselves up neatly again so I would barely notice, stickiness, the driest of mouths, long searches for just-the-right-sort-of-food and long deep sleeps discharged and without dreams. Alas, enough of this, I must go ready myself for it all again tonight, warriors into the dark, tequila fueled, on the brink and retaining just enough of that alabaster white sheen to throw off the locals.

Adios amigos!