Back from Alcoholism

“Dude, it’s like, five o’clock in the morning.”

I look over to my collar popping friend and then ask Miguel the time. It was, indeed, five o’clock in the morning. Dude.

It has been a long time that I was up at five o’clock in the morning and not in a young redhead’s bed. I am El Guapo. That’s how I roll. (New line and I love it.)

Guess where I was for the last several days? It entails alcohol, shrimp, alcohol and some shrimp.

Oh, also this guy is on TV there:

I was trying to open my eyes from a night on the town when I glance up at the big screen TV in front of me. At first, I thought I saw an out of work transvestite on TV and then wondered what kind of bar I was in.

Then, after looking around and being assured that I was safe, I realized that this was just a regular TV “personality” with perfectly manicured eyebrows and too much eye makeup. Now, I don’t know what constitutes too much makeup, but in a man’s case, makeup is too much.

Come on. You’re a man. A man is not meant to be pretty. We’re supposed to be rough around the edges. A man is supposed to be, bueno, a man. This guy, not so much.

This guy was fired from being a host of a transvestite beauty show and somehow ended up on television.

On television in one of the greatest cities ever to be built in North America. Ever.

I was in New Orleans visiting a cousin of a cousin of a friend of Miguel’s. Other than the guy being some kind of genius stereo installer and having speakers in every facet of his house playing annoying techno music, the stat was great. I have never had so many nights of two hours of sleep combined with shrimp.

Also, were you aware that a “hurricane” isn’t a storm? No. It’s some kind of concoction that makes married women hit on Guatemalan men with mustaches.

Anyway, I’m muy cansado and going to bed. Sorry about the lack of posts. Alcohol, shrimp and this guy aren’t a very good combination.

Mucho Amor,

El Guapo