Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Priceline.com are LIARS!

June 30th, 2011: At 1:21am while laying in comforts of my bed on a nice dose of Vicodin - happily supporting the pharmaceutical industry, I did some research to see the going rate of airfare to visit some friends in the US prior to going back to South America. Still not feeling well from my surgery, I was teetering on the imaginary fence on whether I should or shouldn’t go to concrete urban jungle of New York City, deciding to leave it up to Priceline.com to make the decision for me.

Seeing that Priceline.com was advertising that you can get up to 50% off airfare…I thought that I would place a bid for more than 50% off thinking that no airline would accept it, giving me the satisfaction of trying - sort of trying is more like it. Typing in a price that I was willing to pay, I clicked on the icon to place this ridiculous bid. The computer started to churn, making me think that I was definitely going to get rejected…confirming that I should be staying home to continue building my internal army of white soldiers to fight off infections and my internal non-unionized construction company to patch up my wounds.

The results were in…my bid was – accepted!? “What?!” I thought. Priceline lied to me…they led me to believe that they offer rates that are up to 50% off…not over 50% off. Giving them my credit card information prior to my bid, I was unable to retract it and get my money back. Happily but hesitantly, Priceline.com made my decision for me…I will be leaving in 3 days for a 12 day trip to New York City!

Friday, May 27, 2011

Top 2 most visited blog posts revealed – you sickos!

May 22, 2011: So how do I know that most people who read my blog do not have the slightest interest in anything about my off beat travel stories or photos? It is because I have the ability with Google to find out what internet searches are done to find my blog and what blog posts are being viewed.

Some interesting searches from my fellow readers are: dunkey intercourse, donkey intercourse, intercourse between man and donky video, woman and donkey intercource, man intercourse donkey, women intercourse with donkey, intercourse of donkey with women, colombia donkey virginity, intercourse with donkey, donkey sexual intercourse, donky with woman sexual intercourse, man sex female donkey, women in sexual intercourse with donkey, intercourse of donkey with donkey, donkeys north coast of Colombia, photo of donkey intercourse, venezuela donkey intercourse, good girls hostel, who sleeps bottomless with someone, what do girls sleep in, bottomless travel girl hostel, is it ok to sleep bottomless, girls who sleep bottomless, hostel girls sleeping photo, meryl streep bridges over madison + boob and hikingwithjesus.com.

I think most of the people who clicked on my site have been somewhat disappointed – that is including the person who wanted to hike with Jesus. My site has no photos of a man mounting a donkey with nice curves or of a woman who enjoys a 3 foot long donkey penis from time to time. I don’t even have one single disturbing photo of a girl who is sleeping in a hostel - wow, what people at home crave while their loved ones are not paying attention amazing me.

For over two years of blogging some of my travel stories as I tramp around South America…I must sadly say that the most visited posts are…(drum roll)…

#1: Do good girls sleep bottomless…in a hostel
#2: Sexual intercourse with a donkey

Friday, May 20, 2011

How many people does it take to go up a grown man’s anus?

May 20, 2011: Owning a set of rubber wheels and an abundance of frequent flyer miles that can magically whisk me away to friends’ houses, tents and hideouts throughout the continental 48 states and Canada without the need for red sequin shoes, Toto or an F5 Tornado to pull me from a city that at times feels worse than Kansas…and I am still unable to visit any of them.

An item that has needed some attention for an extended period of time has seemed to put me into a human body shop with similar qualities of an automotive body shop, taking much longer than anticipated for repair. I now seem to be anchored by a medical chain in Detroit…that is painfully connected to my anus.

After seeing 1 receptionist and 1 doctor in Colombia about 15 months ago, I could have taken care of my medical issues at a cost of an estimated $40 USD with same day service. Taking 12.045638 seconds of thinking, I decided against a suggested procedure by Dr. Big Belly as my mind recalled my prior visits with the Colombian torture specialist, Dr. Feel Good, who worked out of the same office. She was the doctor who previously attempted to fix a problem that I wrote about in my previous blog posts, Time to visit Dr. Feel Good to take care of “it” and the post Round 2 with Dr. Feel Good.

Back in the US and 72 days after my initial visit to the hospital, I am now on the road to recovery. I managed to log 4 visits and had direct contact with 7 receptionists, 10 nurses, 3 interns, 3 doctors, 1 anesthesiologist and 1 x-ray tech…resulting in being issued a human work order which included a skin graft, some external repair and some internal repair on some plumbing. Let me remind you…in Colombia, I could have had this fixed the same day after seeing 1 receptionist and 1 doctor. Which method of repair would have been better? I am not a member on a medical board nor do I have any medical qualifications, but I would have to go with the method which included the skills of an anesthesiologist offering a ticket to La La Land.

It is looking good that I will be back on the trail June 28th, at 87.00345% strength as I will continue to tramp around South America and wherever else this adventure happens to take me. So…how many people does it take to go up a grown man’s anus? 25 people...not including those who showed up while I was in La La Land.

Detroit…home of Dora the Destroyer and the Model T

May 14, 2011: I am still in Allen Park spending time with family while touring around visiting friends trying to discover new places and activities in the process. From seeing city streets with crucified baby dolls to accidently stumbling on the Detroit Hoedown where the people watching extravaganza drew a large amount Eminem-like gangsta cowboy wannabes and prostitute-like high boot wearing hoes to one convenient location.

Detroit and its surrounding area continues to keep me somewhat busy, learning that some of the best activities are those that are those that take a little research. There is nothing better than watching ink stained women on skates at a roller derby supporting names such as Honey Suckit, Dora the Destroyer and Elle McFearsome. There position requirements range from issuing solid bruise producing, breast popping, skate lifting blocks with other individuals whose objective is to avoid these women as they attempt to slink though the odd mix of Amazonian-like women and Prom queens on a circular cement flat track to accumulate points in a smack down fashion.

Other worthwhile use of my irreplaceable breaths the past few weeks was visiting Greenfield Village which is an enormous outdoor museum that helps me appreciate innovation while driving around in a 1914 Ford Model T. Some of the machinery I saw that was supposed to represent the old days, though sadly looked more like the modern days in countries throughout Asia and South America.

With 1.5 months left in the US before returning to South America, I realize that my vision of what was going to take place here was more of a dream than reality, with nobody to blame but myself. People are complicated and that certainly includes…me.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Today I drove a golf ball into my wiener

May 6, 2011: To lower my chances of embarrassment on an upcoming trip to a golf course, my father and I headed to a driving range to hit a bucket of balls. That trip ended up being a great reminder that golfing is a dangerous sport.

My first few practice swings seemed to be quite horrific as the golf ball would come back at me in slow motion after I would somehow hit the golf ball into the divider (that is there to protect others) instead of far out onto the course - causing me to take evasive action ducking and weaving to avoid injury. Other individuals quickly learned to stay away as my golf balls would magically appear in back of me, coming close to them as they took a break on the benches off to the side of the tees.

I was about 99% successful dodging the 1.620 ounce (45.93 gram) golf balls I hit at myself. There was only one ball that I successfully failed to dodge and that one resulted in a solid blow to my wiener as it hit the wall and came right back at me. My dad was standing there watching this happen in real time trying to figure out what I am doing wrong. For me, this shot was in slow motion – unfortunately…not slow enough.

Today, I drove a golf ball into my wiener and I am somehow still alive to tell you about it. Perhaps I am here for a reason…perhaps it is to educate golfers about the hazards of golfing. Next time I make it out to the practice facilities, I might have to consider being the only one out there wearing a helmet, a mouth piece and of course, a safety cup…to protect my wiener.

Note: Photo pulled from golfswinggurureview.com

A visit to a local penitentiary for Senior Citizens

April 22, 2011: I paid a visit to a past neighbor of mine who was convicted of being "old" and is now residing at a senior penitentiary serving life without payroll. It cannot be appealed…guilty she is. When you are immobile and in the 80’s, you can’t claim innocence and this she doesn’t do, accepting full responsibly for her minds lack of control over her the movements of her body that has unjustly gone on strike.

When entering the facility, I passed a multitude of breathing corpses…some more coherent than others. I can still hear the phlegm filled coughs and curdling heart beating screams. A large amount of the prisoners seemed to have a lack of neck muscles, preventing them to look at nothing more than their Velcro shoes and enlarged muffin tops as their heads hang down from their neck.

For some, they dream of a visit from loved ones. For others…it is a visit from Death in which they patiently wait. Sadly, they seem to be forgotten about by both. When a lot of us spend our whole lives running from Death and even those who love us, at this age a visit from either one would seem to be a blessing.

I don’t want to get old and I know that there is no way to avoid it. But, when I do get to a nice ripe ole age…I hope my memory mirrors a goldfish as I swim around from one end of my cell-like room to other end forgetting what I see every lap.

Please note: Photo of the old crusty woman was pulled from redreporter.com