<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d10304686\x26blogName\x3dThe+Proverbial+Line\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://scottpatrick.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://scottpatrick.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-5786071934619625915', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>
Sunday, May 13, 2007

Bienvenidos a Mexico!

...or I make you a super bargain! (a visual tour of Nogales Mexico)


So this is the border that we are trying to secure. First of all, what a friggin' joke. A 90-year-old woman with a step-stool could scale that. Secondly, I just don't understand how the border is secure? People from Mexico just walk across the border and say they are going for a visit...and they are let in. Why the hell are people walking 40 miles in the desert to find the promised land? Again; what a friggin' joke.


So this sign gave me a giggle at the border. "I declare that I'm a fruit!"


Once I got through the border, I happened upon a scene much like this above. What were the first words said to me by a local? "hola?"...no...

"Hey you wanna go to titty bar?"
"Uh...no thanks"
"You want hooker?"
"No thank you."
"You want pharmacy?"
"No, I'm good. Thanks"

Yeah, apparently the only people who cross the boarder are sex-starved freaks with a need for cheap vicodin and viagra (and they even write your prescription right there as you ask for it!).

I was asked this in some variation at least 20 times in the couple of hours I was over there. Crazy shit. My favorite was:

"Wanna go to titty bar?"
"No Thanks!"
"Gay Bar"
"huh???"

I think I said "No thank you" at least 200 times as people tried to peddle other services such as: plates, bobble-heads, leather, bongs, and tequila. Then there was the heart-breaking little girl who said, "SeƱor, would you like chiclets?"


Did I buy anything there? You bet your sweet ass! I got some little knick-knack souvenir-type things. Nothing too exciting, or illegal.


And then when I came back through the border, "are you a United States citizen?"

"yes"
"what's in the bag?"
"pottery, bobble heads, shot glass"
"move along."

Move along, indeed. That, my friends, was Mexico. Hookers, Drugs, and Titty-Bars.

Labels:

2 Comments:

At 5/14/2007 12:25 AM, Blogger honeykbee's whiny, bitch-ass comment is...

Maaaan, I so could have used some black market zovirax. Not to mention a new bong! Next time you hop that little fence, do let a sista know!

 
At 5/14/2007 10:17 AM, Blogger mineIsay's whiny, bitch-ass comment is...

Reminds me of Vegas when the Bee and I were walking along, nearly jealous we weren't getting asked if we wanted hookers or porn. Mexico doesn't discriminate, they have prostitution for everyone.

 

Post a Comment