jp

Te veo... Por qu no ests en Adium?

Sooooo.... The milair bird broke down in Bogot... Going BACK to the airport AGAIN today. I have now been travelling for 6 days and have made it as far as one flight from ATL could have gotten me in 4 hours.

Sweet. I'm fucking beat. My back is jacked up and I'm running out of clean shit to wear... What are you up to?

Fucking weird thing happened today. At 6:10 there was an explosion 2 blocks from the hotel. Reminded me of "over there." I looked out the window and waited a few seconds, saw the smoke rising, threw on some jeans, grabbed the camera and I was at the front door of the hotel as the first police truck cruised by. Cause, I figure I'm gonna have to answer some questions later and I'm just nosey, so.

But that's not the weird part. The weird part: as I get close to the scene, I can see onlookers, the po-po have secured the corner in 1/2 block increments, and as I start walking up to the orange crime scene tape, I pass this couple sitting in a doorway--fucking LIQUORED UP, with 2 almost empty bottles (a fifth of smirnoff vodka and a fifth of chivas regal). As I pass them, the girl starts talking to me, "Oye, vos... Vos... VOS! La poilicia...blah, blah, blah"... I ignore her, of course. She continues to shout at me. I get to the scene. Looks like a gas explosion. Either that or a very poorly planned act of violence. I mean, seriously, who blows up a closed Frisby's Fried Chicken joint at 0610 in the morning??? I dunno, but whatever. All the businesses with windows unprotected had damage and the Frisby's was fucked up. But, as I am taking just a few more shots, I look back at this couple, they are joined by another girl now, who is totally destroyed and sleeping in the doorway. These people have, quite obviously been out all night boozing in the street. I take one more photo and start to put the camera away and the couple have approached and are standing about 20 ft away. The girl has apparently drank herself "invisible" because she thinks I can't see her motioning towards me and the guy is giving her the "go ahead if you want, but I am not in on this" look. So, I figure it's time to go, shit's about to get stupid. I turn and start walking away. This drunk bitch starts following me, "Vos... Vooooossss! Aye!" I pick up the pace. I hear her like jogging towards me. I look back, she stops and stares at me, "Que mas?" I turn to walk away again-I hear her jogging towards me again. I look back, she freezes in her tracks. Reminds me of being chased by a fucking dog that only wants to attack if you're looking away. I tell her to go away. She starts walking up and saying, "Huh? Huuuuh?" I turn to walk away again, she grabs my arm. Not in a nice way, like grabs me like a man would. I twist my arm outside and slap her wrist away, she grabs me again, I do it again, she tries a third time and I parry her hand away. Then shout at her, "No me tocas!" She stands there with this blank stare and says, "Y qu ms, papi?" So I turn and step it out, back to the hotel and as I'm walking I'm trying to figure out what the fuck that was all about and it strangely reminds me of the incident in Panam. It was just fucking weird. I was thinking how different that shit would have been if the dude had approached me with her, that would have been intimidating. It was a bizzare, semi-violent, weird, strange, I-have-no-clue-what-the-fuck kind of thing. I don't know if she found me attractive, wanted my camera, wanted money, or what. It was just fucked up.

So, I'm outta here tomorrow. It has been an awesome trip, but I'm smoked. Total suck-fest that I have to spend the night in Miami again. I'm so ready to be home. Think I might try to fly stand-by on the flight tomorrow night. We'll see. So, yeah... It's 0815 in the morning and I've already seen an explosion and been accosted by some drunk. Now I'm going to the gym.

Yo.

Are you bored? lol

Lucky guess?

I'm back... Home now. Chillin'...

NASTY!!!! How disgusting! In VA, they would have used hot sauce on that booger and washed it down with a 40 oz. of malt liquor! Woot!

Yeah, that shit would be off da hook, yo.

LMAO. Welcome back. What ya doing this weekend?

How did I miss this girl whoe went live on the b-day? Wow...




Irenella

Hoooooooooooly shit......

If you're thinking of me; you went to the wrong place... Or you may have gone with the wrong people... Who's to say? Just don't think of me; how 'bout that?

Hope you're having fun.

m.

Happy Birthday, Fag.

Love you (mean it). Call you in the morning.

ok... that is a totally creepy default picture you have.... very disturbing ..... LOL.... but it was a pleasure getting to know you..... only wish we had more time. Take care and all the best to you in whatever you do.

I'm home, Homey. Fear not. I was out of comms for a bit whilst travelling. I just called and left you a message.
My phone was stolen in Honduras - fucking faggot even answered when I called. I tried to be all suave and told him I would buy it back from him and was thankful he "found" it. He must have sensed the trap. I was gonna knock out his fucking teeth if he tried to return it, but he hung up on me an I left the country. Assclown.

Anyway.... I'm back in effect. What ya doing for the 4th???

So...

I've always thought that the way of Hara-kiri was a good way to go. I mean, damn dawg - that's no chicken-shit suicide; that's when you MEANT that shit. And since, it's a part of that whole ritual, I was wondering, I mean, if it's not too much to ask....

I've decided that if I commit Hara-kiri, I want you to cut off my head. You're my best friend and I can think of no-one more qualified, nor invited, to strike me dead, provided I have buried a short sword in my guts and ripped them to shreds, and am therefore suffocating in a pool of my own piss, shit, blood, and guts -- I want you to be "that guy" and fuckin' man-up, motherfucker! Please chop off my head after I have suffered excrutiatingly for, oh, I dunno, not too long... I mean, I'd like to think I'm a tough motherfucker, but, seriously, it's rather sensless at that point, and you'll have a Katana right there in your hands, so.... Hook a brutha up and chop off my head. And, dude, for realz, please make it a clean cut. Don't get all nervous and bitch-acting and do something fucked, like bury the sword half-way in my skull while I am still breathing and thinking and functioning and have a smaller sword buried deep within my bowels. Please, just cut off my head. I will never forgive you if, as I lay dying, begging for mercy, you lop off an arm or leg, cuz you are too fucking nervous to swing a sword... I don't want to be dropped into a blender and slowly chopped to bits, one half-ass blow at a time, I'd much rather you just buck-up and get down to bidness.

So.... We down, or what?

I knew I could depend on you. And, yeah, obviously, the plan hasn't changed on how we're goin' out... I was just sayin', in the unlikely event of an impromptu Hara-kiri, you know...