March 21, 2011

Mon-Chee-Chee Mon-Chee-Chee, Oh So Soft And Cuddly. Except In Mexico Where You Act Like D-Bags. Mexico Part Dos.

It has been a few weeks you guys, and you know how it is: You wait months to go on your fantastic vacation and it feels like forever and then it finally comes and then goes by so quickly. Like, about 5 minutes after you get home and back into Mommy Mode and your kid acts like a wanker and then breaks his arm and you have to deal with Houston traffic and you forget the vacation ever happened. Still….It’s so totally worth it.
Ok….So our first day there we decided to walk up the beach to check things out. The next thing I know The Hub is saying “Monkeys! Monkeys!” The man knows how much I love them, and have always wanted to hold one. One time we were at a party and there were little monkeys in dresses but the stupid lady who had them wouldn’t let anyone hold them. Really? Then take them home! Or at least don’t put them in mother-effing dresses AND CUTE LITTLE BONNETS if you don’t want anyone to want to hold them, you jackhole!  I was totally pissed! But the guys who had these Mexican monkeys were letting you hold them and have your photo taken for 5 bucks. Really? 5 bucks? Cuz I would pretty much give them the entire contents of The Hub’s wallet plus a dry humping for a chance to hold a friggin’ monkey. They had two, and at first I was drawn to the teeny tiny one with the mohawk, but the more I looked at him the more I thought he looked like a punk a-hole. The bigger one was not as cute, but looked much nicer. Obviously I am not a good judge of monkey character, cuz here’s what happened:
So the monkey was sitting on my arms. So far so good. Then the dude is all “Let’s put him on your shoulder!” And so since I assumed that this guy new what he was doing, I was all “Yeah! That sounds amazing!” And so he sits on my shoulder. And things are going well. And I’m happy. Then something pisses the monkey off. I’m pretty sure the monkey guy gave him some sort of hand signal that meant “Kill this stupid blonde girl so her husband will be distracted and we can totally steal his wallet!” And then the monkey a-hole went bonkers and started to pull my hair and yell at me. And The Hub didn’t really care. So he wasn’t distracted. And it all happened so fast. So the monkey guys didn’t even get to steal his wallet. Obviously they overestimated Steve’s love for me. And of course the guys didn’t photograph the attack, so I had to draw it in crayon for you. And I made myself look much cuter in the drawing cuz in real life I had no makeup on and was sweaty and windblown and looked like a doofus. You’re welcome.
When you love monkeys as much as I do (did) and you’ve waited about 35 years to hold a real live one instead of a plastic thumb-sucking Mon-Chee-Chee, and the real live one turns out to be a total douchebag, it is very disheartening. It’s like if I finally got to meet Paul Rudd and after I hugged him and told him how much I loved him, he started pulling my hair and screaming in my ear. Not cool, Paul. Not cool at all.

And I’m starting to think that the animal kingdom has an issue with my hair. A few years ago when my suspicions about crows being a-holes were confirmed, it involved my hair. I was at the zoo with some friends, and while they were all looking at the big map a crow dove down, landed on my head, pecked it once, and flew away. I was like, “Oh my god! Did you guys see that? That hurt!” And everyone was like “What are you talking about?” And I’m all “That giant crow just attacked me!” And they’re all “Yeah, ok. Whatever.” And went back to looking at their maps. Then the d-bag crow did it again! Only this time when he landed he held on to my hair tight with his stupid claw feet and pecked my head like a mo-fo. And this time Ethan was pointing and yelling, so everyone looked up from their stupid map and felt like insensitive losers. Because this time I had blood on my head and the crow was trying to fly away but his feet were stuck in my hair and if he had been stronger, you guys, he woulda flown off with me and totally murdered me and fed me to his babies. Or sold me into some kind of crow slavery situation where I’d have to live out the remainder of my days in a treetop somewhere making out with birds. And I’m pretty open to new/weird things, but being a crow slave is not one of them.

So anyway,  now I’m in the market for a new animal to be my #1 obsession. I’m leaning toward miniature horses, but I know that horses can be unpredictable a-holes too. Because I’ve been bitten by one. Had one try to eat my shirt. And been bucked off of two. And you’re probably thinking that if I had a miniature horse I wouldn’t try to ride it. But you’d be really wrong. But at least I wouldn’t have far to fall. But I can tell you one thing. My new obsession won’t be a badger. Or an iguana. Cuz those guys don’t have any respect for boundaries. I don’t either. But I don’t have to cuz I’m awesome and I’m human and they’re animals. 
When I’m on the beach, I like to sleep with windows/doors open. Whatever it takes to hear the waves and feel the breeze. Well, when I mentioned this to our Bartender/Waiter Roberto, he said that he wouldn’t recommend that because once a badger got into someones room and another time an iguana got in. So The Hub said we were gonna leave the doors open anyways, because (a) we had a moat, and (b) neither of those things were gonna hurt us if they got in. And I’m like “Dude! I’ve heard about badgers! They are total badasses! Why do you think high school sports teams are named after them? Haven’t you heard of teams called things like ‘The Fighting Badgers’? I’m pretty sure they kill people. And don’t iguana’s bite? I mean they’re cute and all, but do I wanna wake up with one in my bed? N-O!” And Steve says that since there is a language barrier, they probably mean a mouse or something and the Spanish word for it is badger. And since I like the ocean breeze and waves so much, I decided we could leave it open.

Above is a photo of our “Moat”. Which is actually totally useless without Sharks, Piranhas or Crocodiles.  And although Steve thought the killer animal-less moat was enough to protect us, I decided to build a Badger Barrier out of furniture, towels, and The Hub’s belt, which I used as a makeshift lock. The Hub said that my lame barrier wouldn’t keep anything out, but it made me feel better. And if anything got in and totally attacked and ate Steve in his sleep, at least I could say that I did something to try and prevent it. And like I told you before, Vacation Hub is not the brightest bulb and I really didn’t trust his ability to judge our safety. Or lack thereof. And one morning I saw this:
These are definitely mother-effing Chupacabra marks, you guys. So really, I almost died on  this vacation twice. And I pretty much think Mexican animals/creatures suck balls.

And on one beach walk we saw some kind of hatches in the sand and I told The Hub that I thought that they were hatches to The Looking Glass, which is the ocean station that Charlie died in on Lost. And I told him we should try to open it. Then I got all sad about Charlie, cuz he’d gotten off drugs and was in love with Claire and was really doing good before he went and drowned. And another day on a beach walk, we went on an awesome jungle path and it totally reminded me of Lost again. And I told The Hub that if we got lost, instead of focusing on the polar bears and monsters and Others, we were gonna spend our time building really cool Casitas and Palapas and stuff and make everything much more resorty and fun. And I decided that the Lost people were probably just kinda lazy and pretty easily distracted. And then I heard a noise and crouched down to the ground and saw a few sets of khaki-clad legs walk by, which I told The Hub looked just like the legs the castaways saw when they first discovered The Others. And that was when I realized that I would probably get distracted too. And then I saw a tropical plant that looked perfect for using as a female urination device, ala The Whiz, which would really help me to pee lots easier if we were lost in the jungle, but not quite as easy as if he had just bought me the damn whiz thing is the first place. And that’s when he said, “You just pretty much always have some kind of narrative going on, don’t you?” And I said that yes, yes I do.

This leaf would totally work as a pee funnel if I needed it. Which The Hub said I didn’t at the present moment.

And one day when we were walking around downtown, some local guy asked The Hub if he wanted to buy some pot. HE ASKED THE HUB! Which I found totally hysterical since he looks nothing like a guy who would ever buy pot. I even told him he was imagining it and that he probably misunderstood him. Then later he claims her heard the guy ask another person, so I decided to believe him. I guess that Super-Relaxed Vacation hub also looks like a stoner.

And at one point we went into a store that had these mannequins:

I know that lots of chicks are into getting boob jobs nowadays, but I don’t really think  that our mannequin population needs to get on that bandwagon. Cuz, ya know, at first I thought “Cute dress!” Then I realized that there was really no point in me trying it on because there was no way in Hell that my boobies were gonna fill that out. Is this what the Mexican population thinks that white women’s boobs look like? Really? Then the locals must’ve thought me and my regular boobies were total freaks of nature.

And this ending sucks balls, but this post is waaaay too long and I’m starving. So…The End.

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