Suck up mo' "fantasy tonic". >>>From Natchez to Mobile, from Memphis to St. Joe, wherever the four winds blow, I´ve been in some big towns, heard me some big talk and here is one thing I know, a woman´s a two face, a worrisome thing ´who´ll leave you to sing the blues in the night.,,
'Codin' wi' MSWud coun' exa'ly 50 gawd awful wuds. Wi' gitar 'n' bones you gut a winnah. No soun' good 'ear da blues 'n da nite. ...Sing da blues fo' yu go. Betta moosic to 'ear.
He wanted a bifstek real bad, but his jaws were wired shut. If only he hadn´t gone into that bar in Tepito last night wearing a skirt. They didn´t see he was Scot. There was blood on the kilt hanging across the hospital chair. Next year he´ll vacation in Nicaragua.
I loved that Merry Born. Thanks for a great post. Haggis Man indeed. I remember many the outsider driving through such places as Cullman in the 1950s and stopping at a local redneck bar seeking directions to Birmingham and misspronouncing that city´s name as "Birmingham" when the correct local pronunciation in those days was "Buminham" and lucky to get out of that town on one piece much less to "Buminham" and here is another tale of Southeastern Mexico:
Willard anticipated impediments along the way from Comitan to Palenque on the highway hugging Guatemala. A military imperative. But when he passed the Ocosingo-Palenque intersection and was stopped by the inevitable army checkpoint, he found a Zapatista checkpoint immediately nearby soliciting contributions and this seemed the essence of co-existence.
It is amusing to watch folks wearing masks agreed by all medical professionals to be of no value in protecting the wearers from respiratory disease and realize that these same goobers would sit in some roadside taco joint with no sanitary facilities and ingest tacos coated with indiscernable human excrement.
(This post was edited by Hound Dog on May 2, 2009, 3:11 PM)
Life was dull and I wasn’t making very much money. I moved to Baja and soon met me a young honey. Liked the looks of the beach and bought me some land. Saved up some pesos and asked her for her hand.
Now… Life is a peach on the beach!
Our House Building Project in Mexico... Lomas de San Martin Loving Life on the Baja Peninsula
Baja Gringo, enjoyed your story and good luck. I'm sending you a word counter connection for what I believe is an accurate word counter. If it isn't accurate re-edit your story, believe it or not based on this counter your (1) to many words. 51 to be exact. One word less should put you right back into the ballgame.
I just did it the old fashioned way and counted with my index finger and two eyeballs. Just tried it again and came up with the same number - 50. Is my eyesight that bad??? Our House Building Project in Mexico... Lomas de San Martin Loving Life on the Baja Peninsula
When I used it, it also gave me a 51 word count on my entry, so I just took off something and it worked. Who knows, maybe its the blind leading the blind. Whatever, its no biggy, if it works, it works.
I would like to suggest that you ADD a new forum topic to M/C
Arts and Culture in Mexico.
There are so many opportunities and certainly opinions that could be shared and exposed on this forum of the arts-culture scene around Mexico.
Example - Earlier this year at the MAZ in Zopopan was a collection of work from the amazing young artist Javier Marin. It would be great to have comments here about shows and programs around MX. Just a suggestion.
Death seemed eminent. Christmas in Chiapas and only one surgeon available. Two hospitals proffered in this ancient colonial city of San Cristóbal. One run by Catholic nuns managed by a stern and humorless Mother Superior. One private and profit oriented. Private : Filthy disgusting, degrading, mercenary. Catholic: Poor, clean, sympathetic, well managed.
There you go. Fifty words and for the first time in my 67 years on the planet I appreciated Nurse Cratchet. It´s amazing how one´s perspective changes when one´s guts are visibly strewn about the coroner´s chambers.
On Route 2 between Mexicali and Tijuana, the bus takes its time. The cracked vinyl seat is hot, the window won’t open. My water bottle is empty. What’s that up ahead, on the rise of the highway? It’s a tarantula, the setting sun orange between its belly and the road.
Constable Juan went to his friend Junebug and told him it was time for the usual election sacrifice and and Junebug decided Dogberto Gonzalez was the most likely candidate and Dogberto´s still was dismantled on the front page of Thursday´s Cuarto Poder and the preachers were pleased and Juan was re-elected.
Drove up to a nightclub in Guaymas, danced with a young hotty, she had seen my dazzling new ride, I asked her if she wanted to go to PV, she said yes. I scored; proud as a peacock, in PV she hugged me and said she was a working girl....:-)
From Natchez to Mobile, from Memphis to St. Joe, wherever the four winds blow, I´ve been in some big towns, heard me some big talk and here is one thing I know, a woman´s a two face, a worrisome thing ´who´ll leave you to sing the blues in the night.
And I just wrote the Star Spangled Banner with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back. (HaHaHa) Great one. I love it when your imagination goes wild.
Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe. - Albert Einstein
Well, thank you Donald. I am glad I entertained you. Try this:
The shoreline dirt road from Xcalak to Majahual was totally deserted. Within a few kilometers of Xcalak and the last beach cottage the unrelentingly aggressive tiny mosquitos attacked in the mangrove swamps.Then Bubba was driving along a broad beach covered with plastic discards, cans, human filth. Green my ass.
(This post was edited by Hound Dog on May 6, 2009, 3:31 PM)
I asked my other half, honey, what is it you like most about Mexico? With a wry, mischievous smile, she looked at me knowing I was fishing and said, “Everything!” A bit amazed with doubt, I retorted, “That’s impossible.” She laughed and with a smirk said, “You got that right.”
Tony, this is fun and a good pass time for some of us who have been hanging around for a while populating the lobbies and sitting along the corridors listening for opportunity’s to jump in with a contribution. Telling from the response thus far, a 50-word expression is like freedom of movement and this is good, something to consider and perhaps expand-on for those who can share a small piece of the forum to do so. Perhaps a short 250-word story or something along those lines…. Muchas gracias.
Here’s another:
Una Canción
The heavily mustachioed Mariachis neck-veins almost burst as his hands desperately clutched the air with fists begging with emotion, as he belted out Cu Cu Cu Ru Mi Paloma. A Ranchera, which is the salt of Mexico. I’ve always loved it and makes even the strongest of the strong choke.
Bubba´s relatives inhabit the North Carolina and Alabama coasts. Nice places. They said let´s get together on a beach anywhere so Bubba suggested the Bays at Huatulco or the beaches near Tulum as alternatives to the Southeastern U.S. but that invitation has been met with stone silence. Vacation among lepers?
Deep frown creasng his forehead, her son's barely controlled voice said: "you can't move there, Ma ! Don't you know they go around with machetes and kill all the gringos every few years?" Months later, the visiting son was ogling senoritas from a curbside perch and picking his new Mexican guitar..
In 2000, my good friend upon being told I was retiring to Mexico exclaimed, "Are you nuts? You don´t speak Spanish and they´ll cut your throat. I´m moving from Mobile to the Garden District in New Orleans and I can eat and drink all day". Then Katrina. Blessed silence prevails
Sun burnt crags of flesh exposed to thousands of years of wind and rain made this old man’s face painful. Alone at midnight, in Guanajuato, he held a flyer no one claimed. I startled, when in the "clearest" of voices he said, “I have a discount tour for you Senior."
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