So I spent the last couple of weeks in the United States of Mexico del Norte and/or America, whatever the difference is. I really couldn't tell quite where the border is. It seems if you are either in the Southwest or New York, the majority of the people are able to speak both the great languages of English and Spanish quite impeccably and I was suitably impressed. Notice I said the MAJORITY: the hard-working cab drivers, hotel cleaners, the corporate outlet store clerks and what have you. The REAL Americans.
Then in certain rare instances, I happened upon a certain pale-skinned minority who seemed to be quite lazy and useless. Like that certain tour guide who was quite content to waste a lot of time drinking coffee and only showing me the Strawberry Fields part of Central Park, the odd church and... Harlem. Oh, how impossibly hard your job must be, gracious sir. Who in the world besides you could ever be sufficiently qualified to simply share the odd historical fact which EVERYONE knows while a dirty greaseball has to drive the bus and gets paid NOTHING? I mean, I never would have seen anything of NY without your help! Good thing I had a map and a subway pass.
I was rather impressed by the Grand Canyon. It is certainly unlike any other canyon I have ever beholden. I always imagined it to be nothing but an over-rated form of the Fish River Canyon (in Namibia) but you really cannot compare the two. I can tell you I was speechless over the geographical magnanimity of its glory. Comparing it to the measly Fish River is like comparing the great Pedro Infante to Frank Sinatra. Sheriff Gringo just wouldn't understand.
I did indeed have me quite some good times in Sin City doing pretty much everything there except getting married. Quite a mistake in hindsight, I dare say! I even succumbed to the tacky pleasures of Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville but I was not stupid enough to pay for any of the overpriced trademarked cocktails which you can easily whip up in your own kitchen. Besides, I was able to drink as much as I wanted for free while staring at the hottie cocktail waitresses in my five star hotel. Stare only, I'm afraid, the company was not prepared to pay THAT much.
So, all in all, not bad for a free trip and I really enjoyed America. I suppose I should have arranged a meeting with Joe but I didn't know how I would get to New Jersey without wasting a whole day. Actually, I don't know where he lives anymore. I guess we could have planned a meeting place in Manhattan but that thought didn't cross my mind for some reason.
Oh, the topic in the subject then. I guess if you spend your whole life moaning about all those greaseball spics who done stealin' them our jobs like a certain Vegas cabdriver who was unable to say one sentence without the phrase "corporate mafia bastards" then you really should consider leaving the United States of Mexico del Norte. Idiot gringo Mormons thinking they could besmirch Spanish territory with their insignificant trading post...
It's spectacularly easy for me to get to Manhattan, yes. In fact, I often do it five days a week when I've got a job.
That said, I am secretly afraid of you, but I guess if I met you in a public place it would have been fine. Although you could still shiv me under a table in a cafe, which I suspect you would. But that's how I want to go anyway, so what Im saying is I'm really upset you didn't contact me.
Why do you think I am Canadian? Did I mention Canada anywhere? I believe I only mentioned Mexico, Namibia and the fantastical country of my own mind where ranchera music is playing everywhere and everyone gets to own a ranch. And a pony. That is quite obviously the very REALITY that you Americans took away from my tanned-skinned brothers and sisters!
I really am disappointed I did not meet Joe.
We probably passed by each other on the same street. I believe your fears are unfounded though. No one appeared too fearful of me, I must say. Many people seemed to think I was a cool dude and wanted to befriend me and some silly females seemed to desire me. Or perhaps that is just some American custom of a "Hollywood friendliness" I do not understand? Either way, I wish I got that kind of reaction here.
South Africa is not a very nice place. You must NEVER come here. Well, you might enjoy it if you like getting shot at and your few friends being Christian fundies and/or crack addicts. I am not joking. At least that brief time I spent in America showed me what a NORMAL life could be like. Not a perfect life, just a normal one.
Joined: 16 Aug 2008
Location: Fuck Yeah: ATL, GA
It was a joke in bad taste, I'm afraid. Mississippi was terrible. The only place worse than Mississippi, I think, is Arkansas. And that's just because you can't even say the "sas" part or people look at you stupid.
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