HOT LESBIAN ACTION!!!

Most of you won't get that. A little bit of a reference to my younger days. Feel free to contact me and ask about it. Except for you, Ben, I've had just about enough of you.

So... Mexico? I just got back some hours ago. Let's say... 6:30 in the god damned freaking morning. See, usually, you want to arrive in your city of choice (or not choice, depending on your situation) at either an hour so ungodly that you can get home and sleep until 10:00 AM or whatever and be back on your system pretty much, or you want to get back you know, 1:00 PM, 2:00 PM, whatever, on SATURDAY, and sleep the rest of the day and take it easy. But no, I had to get back on Sunday having been up about 24 hours, and get home by the time I'm usually AT SCHOOL on weekdays.

Okay, fuck that. You guys want to know about my trip. Well, first, I'll remind you all that I went Puerto Peñasco, Mexico last Saturday, for a week. Weather indications said it would be cold. If I were to answer in the form of a question, I'd ask, "What the hell are you talking about?" I mean, Mexico, right?

So, let me detail my travel plan for all you geography buffs out there. Okay, for you one geography buff out there. I left JFK on an airplane to San Diego around 7:00 AM. After five hours (and a viewing of the probably much-edited Runaway Jury, which was so not terrible I was racked by paroxysms of non-misery), I arrived at the San Diego airport. By then it was 10:00 AM. After those of you who "do math" have "done the math," you might be confused. Then I shall explain that San Diego in fact, be three hours earlier than New York. Which means San Diego is LIVING IN THE PAST. But none of my crazy lottery schemes seemed to pan out. I also tried to mess with their heads by telling them that us future people were highly advanced and lived in cramped gray buildings hundreds of feet high, instead of sunny fields covered with palm trees, whose coconuts were most likely the San Diegans primary source of food. It was here that I, and my parents, met my mother's sister who was coming along with us.

Now the fun part. Some genius of near-Euclidian brilliance decided we should, at this point, drive from San Diego to MEXICO, our destination.

And I must say, the first hour was fine, even fun. So were the next two. And the succeeding three or four. In fact, you couldn't really talk smack about any of the hours, but after "you" had added up eight or so of these human time units, you would be pissed. And cramped.

And we did pass some real interesting scenery. In a way. In Mexico, we passed miles of mind-blowing poorness. They had these shanties that were like houses, except they were made of pieces of billboards and driftwood. And they looked like they couldn't withstand a light breeze, like for instance, exhalation. I don't know where the driftwood came from with no clear rivers or ports in sight. There were also TIRES everywhere, strewn about the landscape like a surrealist Meineke ad. We also passed through Arizona on our way. We were treated to two different landscapes: the first involved scenes of devastating flatness, comprised of either grass-type plantings, or desert. Their were CACTI. They were tall and thick, and vaguely intimidating. We also saw big mountains. Some of them seemed to be gigantic rubble heaps; millions of very large rocks stacked upon one another. But they weren't rubble heaps, not man-made at least. Someone explain this because it's bizarre, and bizarre is only good when it comes from me. And the British.

Finally, we arrived at our Mayan Palace resort, where we retreated to our palatial suite made entirely of rocks precariously stacked upon one another. The Mayans insisted that we leave their temple or face the wrath of mighty Quetzalcoatl, a creature of such daunting and terrifying name that we saw no choice but to leave.

Of course, I'm full of shit. We went to our room, the one facing the driveway instead of the oceanfront, which we had reserved but of course was given to some disrespectful shit who was probably getting plastered at that VERY MOMENT and making terrible messes of the nice artwork.

Oh, and it was COLD. Maybe warmer than New York, but it was probably between sixty and seventy degrees, which isn't Mexico. Now that I thought about it, California was cold too. Someone was clearly having a little fun with me, so I punched the concierge. To show I meant business.

We settled down in our nice room. My parents slept in one bedroom and I had to sleep in the other with my aunt, who can't sleep without her noise generator. Which was okay. I could have gotten to sleep better if it had a setting for "Screeching Cars" or "Loud Arguments Outside My God Damned Window." You know, to remind me of home. But the sleeping arrangements turned out fine, and after approximately 20 hours of wakefulness, I slept.


You have come to the end of Side 1. Please turn the tape to Side 2 to hear the continuation of this tape.

Side 2 will be available Wednesday, possible earlier. This may or may not be the last segment. I don't know how much detail I feel like cramming into your tiny minds.

Yours,
Nicky

MY E-MAIL! Okayeahwhatever@yahoo.com.
AIM: Jake Aimer