We arrived in Miami @ 9:20 am Wednesday morning. The flight from Newark was nothing short of Obnoxious. The mood was set, it wasn't a good one but during are brief stint in Miami International it was about to take a serious shift Which would set the mood for the next nine days. It took us 15 minutes to find a bar that would serve us at 9:35 in the am but during our travels threw the terminals Frequent signs that read Admirals club this way brought new hope to our declaration of war on sobriety. We turned countless corner and then low and behold their she was, like a street harlot and her sweet talking siren-esk accomplice the smokers lounge not far behind. I was scratching my neck like I had bugs under my skin jones'n for a trip to flavor country, so Time Machine hit up the bar while I rekindled my friendship with good old Philip Morris.
The Machine roles up to the Bar gabs a moheto, an elegant choice for the am, and asks the bar Maid politely "Am I aloud to bring this outside into the Smokers lounge?" at which point she leaned forward, pushed her elbows into the bar and her palms into her face as if she was about to proposition him, then says "Honey, This is Miami! You can do what ever the Fuck You Want!"
He then proceeded to join me outside acceding threw the cloud of smoke, Tobacco enthusiasts, and Florida's native fauna, reminiscent of Sogornie Weiver fighting to save a gray back Gorilla. I'm two butts deep and we raise our eyebrows in sketched out amusement as this busted broad sitting to my left revels she's a model/artist/recording artist/philly native/lonely/problematic drinker/has a brother who called her mom a slut and got a shotgun pulled in his face by his step dad and he's a pussy because of it or something like that/ect./ect./ect./ect. to the, I'm assuming, total trash on the other end of her sidekick.
In an effort to avoid sheer classless fever we sucked down the rest of our cigarets and made a b line back to the Admirals club. In approach we were greeted by a Dior sunglass wearing greased up Miamite Fag, that I'm pretty sure wasn't flying but rather trying to pick up young unassuming drunk traveling boys at the local airport bar, who proceeded to try to strike up a conversation with the Machine saying something like" so your back for more" undressing me and him with his eyes the whole time he breathed " and you've brought friends, how delightful." trying not to soak in to much of his over bering efeminine lisp we burn by him too and hit up the bar maid for some more juice. Time takes down a tequila combo meal while I house an extra large bloody mary, then take off back to our terminal in hopes of boarding.
On our Journey back I started to glair at this skantolusly Fab fedora wearing, G N R T shirt rockin, evil eye giving broad. Then realize that she can smell the testosterone coming her way, Which Lohans Siscor Sister obviously didn't not appreciate. We got on the plane, took off, and were on our way to San Jose.
I didn't have much chance to keep a log of the rest of the trip. Our time was mostly consumed by dollar twenty five litters of Beer, Public Nudity, Brushes with the various security Guards, Exotic animal hunts, Redefining the meaning of the fraise Pool Party, Knee Drop after Knee Drop, general debauchery, and photo shoots that will basically ensure I never get elected to public office. So with that said I present you with American Boys in Costa Rica AKA the rest of the trip!
This was one of the more classic moments of the trip, which I believe needs it's own spot light in this post.
So were at this water fall in La Fortuna surrounded by rain forest and Time see these dudes hanging out on a rock. He try's to say whats up but alas they don't speak English. So he proceeds to point to their bannana hamicks, then to his bannana hamick, then to the camra.... Walks up to them, puts his arm around one and, pose for the camra. I guess they didn't know what to make of this so they just went along with it. It was FUCKIN CLASSIC
So were at this water fall in La Fortuna surrounded by rain forest and Time see these dudes hanging out on a rock. He try's to say whats up but alas they don't speak English. So he proceeds to point to their bannana hamicks, then to his bannana hamick, then to the camra.... Walks up to them, puts his arm around one and, pose for the camra. I guess they didn't know what to make of this so they just went along with it. It was FUCKIN CLASSIC
Posts
2 comments:
don't worry kids, I'm fully aware of what a masturbatory act I have committed here today.
you are insane.
Post a Comment