Cash Only

This isn't how it started, but I remember being asked if I knew anyone that would take on a sick mountain beaver.  I knew it was a trick, someone trying to lead me into a path of lies and deception.  Of course I knew someone that would take on a sick mountain beaver.  I have typically been attracted to "special cases", if you know what I mean, and I think you do.  But it was too early and too soon to walk into this trap, especially since we were going to lunch and would be walking along the train tracks with the grafiti and the hobos, and you know where that takes you.  So I just kinda laughed it off...  I wasn't completely sure that she knew anyone with a sick mountain beaver, or if she had been checking out my package and was trying to subtly hint that, beyond a "piggy back ride" she was looking for some special attention to her lady parts.
I always assume that the girls want me to pay special attention to their lady parts, I guess that is how I roll.
I had already mentioned that when we went to lunch that this wasn't a date, just a couple folks having some good eats, you dig, and she would have to pay her own way.  If a chick is paying her own way it means there isn't going to be any shenanigans, generally speaking.  There could be shenanigans.  For more information on lunchtime shenanigans, involving parking garages and rampant nudity, just text me.
So, I was all like, lets go get some BBQ.  It's payday and I am feeling rich.  And she was all like, that sounds like a lot of effort.  And I was all like, there will be hobo's and train tracks and grafiti, and she was all like, my BF is super smart, and I was all like, I am generally acknowledged to be smarter that most people you would assume are smarter than me, so she was all like, ok, lets get some bbq, and I was all like, ok, hows 11 o'clock sound and she was all like, that is way too early, and I was like, bitch, I need to eat and when are you free and where are you because you aren't answering my texts.  Then she came over and was like, how how come you aren't answering my texts, and I was all I like, I been talking to my boy here and didn't know you were texting me and are you ready to go?  And she was all like, no...  WTF?!?!? 
So I went back to my desk and maybe did some work and maybe pretended to be working, I'm not sure, that part is hazy.  I think I was listening to Morrissey.
So I finally found my balls and was all like, you know what, I'm gonna go downstairs and I'm starving, are you gonna get your ass down anytime soon.  She was all like, yeah, gimme about 5 minutes.  Whatever...

Long story short, well, not really, but we tried to catch a bus and the driver was all like, fuck off, this is my last stop, and I was all like, that's pretty rude, and he was all like, well, where are you going, and I told him and he was like, yeah, fuck off.  Oh, and this chick was with me, so I looked extra uncapable of fathering any offspring that would amount to anything...  I kinda shrugged it off since I been fixed and am not capable of fathering children anymore anyhow, although I can still go through the paces, just keep that in mind, yo...

So we went down the street, then crossed another street, then had to cross another street, past the train tracks.  The hobo's must have seen me coming and they all disappeared, but we got to see a lot of graffiti (this would never hapen in Malaysia).  I was all like, hey, look at how fancy I am because I know where dudes go to spray paint shit all over the place and she was hella impressed, but who wouldn't be.  Then we crossed another street and she just kept on walking and I was all like, HEY, where are you going?  because we were there.  I could smell it!!!

I went up to the window and said howdy to the owner and the nice Mexican people behind the counter and ordered up.  Then the chick I was with was all like, OH, they only take cash and she didn't have any cash.  So I had to pony up the cash for her lunch, which suddenly turned this into a date. AWESOME!!!  That means I could expect some action, because, really, if you pay for lunch for some chick the least they can do is put out.  I think this is common knowledge, and really, common courtesy.  I mean, really, how rude would that be if you bought someone lunch, after they were talking about their beaver and then all you get is some sort of "I'll get you back" kinda pat on the ass.  It's kind of a given. 

Oh, BTW, anyone wanna go to lunch anytime soon?

As I write this (and this is absolutely fictional) I am finishing the last of the pulled pork with a hotlink. It is AWESOME!!!  It is making my lips tingle, which is funny, well not really, but it reminds me of the BJ I got after I paid for lunch and she still had bbq sauce on her lips and it made my man parts tingle.  That totally did not happen, but it makes for a better story.  Actually, it doesn't sound that awesome. 
1) Because I am totally devoted to my wife
2) It would have been along the train tracks and the hobos would have probably watched and, well, never mind..
3) I seldom let people I don't know well give me bj's, even if I do pay for their lunch.
4) It weren't no thing...  shoot, it was just lunch.  Come on people!!!

There's probably more, but it doesn't really matter, you know.  I think I ended up naked at one point, there were some (2) guns drawn, but my exquisite nudity and general flexibility defused the situation.  Oh, there were a lot of dogs, that was strange... 

I think I missed something, but I will probably remember later and bring it up and we will all laugh about it and some ways down the road we will say something about "remember that time"...

Me and my Monkey hate to commute, and I got pierced

It was a dark and stormy night and my monkey was howling.  Actually is was a dark and stormy week and my monkey had been howling for a while.  Friggin' goddamn howler monkey been whispering in my ear (it was loud in my head, at least his message was) and I was starting to listen.  Damn, I missed that dude! 
Anyhow, he was telling me things and I was starting to really want to hear them, because they made sense, you see, lots and lots of sense.  I was waking up and remembering things.  Not the time travel kind of remembering things when you did that one thing that one time and it takes you back, not really, but kinda just like that.  He reminded me of who I used to be, and what I used to want out of life, and the dreams and aspirations I had had once upon a time.  He was constantly putting these thoughts in my head and it was causing me to question damn near everything.
Damn near everything...
It was sad, and it was exciting at the same time.  It was inspirational and awe inspiring, man, I used to ROCK!  It was depression and disheartening, man, look at what I have become.  I still blame it all on customer service... but I will probably get back to that.
Jebus had his hands on me also.   There was no fight between my monkey and my man, it was all copacetic.  Looking at it with a critical eye (because I always look back and wonder about things) it is as if my monkey was putting thoughts in my head and Jesus (or his dad) was slapping me in the face.  Each step of the way, and it wasn't always obvious at the time, but looking back, there were spiritual ninja kicks to my brain balls (I don't know) reinforcing the thoughts I was having and the actions I was starting to take.
For example, I had to go and do this thing for work, I am still not really sure the point of it except for getting more people enjoying the kool-aid, but doing that in itself was a kick in the nads, and again, looking back, it was as if the hand of god threw me in there like a knuckle-ball into the mitt of fate.  I came out very self aware and ready to kick some ass.  I also came out realizing there was a lot of ass to kick and I didn't really want to travel into that battlefield. 
So, anyway, I came out of it all pumped up and wanting to kick someones ass and needing a haircut (really) and thinking about how my wife told me about this tattoo parlor that did haircuts and I thought, you know what, I need my damn haircut and I need to pierce my nipple.  Now... Tonight!!!  And it was like I was being guided by a firm hand on my back, pushing me in the right direction *see, monkey making me want to do something crazy and my man sending me in the right direction, it was perfect.  And 20 years in the making. 
So there I GO, I tell my lovely wife I am going to get my haircut and probably my nipple pierced and she was all for it, go and do you thing, I think is what she said. 
So, it was like this:
Monkey says: Better stop at the liquor store first.
My Man says:  You should get some money out of the cash machine.
Monkey says:  Better get a shitload.
My Man says:  Good idea.
Monkey says: Get some Wild Turkey for your old lady.
My Man says: Yeah!
Monkey says:  Get a little something for yourself and get your ass down to the tattoo place.
My Man was quiet...
So I did, and I did, and I went walking in and I am all like, HEY!  I want to get my haircut and pierced, who wants to go first.  The barber chick was hella preggers and said the piercing dude wasn't there but she could cut my hair.  So I got my haircut... some story, huh?
Hold On!  So the piercer might be at the other parlor, you want me to call?  Yeah.  Ok.  So she calls and he IS there and she says, OK, I am sending you a nipple... She tells me where it is and I bust a move.  It's only about 8 miles away on the same street, so I head out as fast as I can, being safe, of course... Yada yada yada and the dude tells me to take a deep breathe and to exhale and then I saw stars and felt a tug for a second and it was done and I was bleeding like a motherfucker and it didn't even hurt.  Oh, and he gave me some stickers.
My monkey also pointed out to me that WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING? a couple days later and punched me in the stomach and made me puke at the bus stop.  He did this a couple times before I got the hint that I really hated riding the bus for 2 hours each morning and dealing with hideously insane people on a daily basis.  I sucked it up for a couple days, but one day I couldn't take it any more.
I got off the bus downtown and puked as soon as the bus pulled away.  It was rainy and cold and the insane dude was walking around the parking lot.  He actually came and sat down in the shelter and started talking some crap of some sort, and I was within 30 seconds of convincing myself to catch the next bus home when my bus showed up.  I got on, kinda depressed about the whole thing and feeling oogy, and at every stop I heard this screaming in my head to get off the bus, get off the bus, get off the bus.  Yes, no, yes, no... Finally we were at the last Seattle stop, all the way up to the U district, and I got off.  I got off and puked in the bus shelter, then I called in sick... Then I felt so much better.  Incredibly better.  Fantastic, actually. 
OH, I hate my job!  No, I thought about it, actually, I hate going IN to my job, if I could do it from home everything would be cool. 

Me and my Monkey love my wife and hang with Jesus

Actually, and truthfully, I have always loved the woman that is my wife... I am sure I have told ya'll about this a couple times, but maybe I didn't have the time and didn't REALLY tell you about it.  Now I don't really think this part is insane, at least not in the greatest sense of the word...
Now, I will say, that I have this long standing belief, which I have mentioned to anyone who will listen, that I am severely retarded, and don't realize it.  It is like, how would you know, right?  Really, you are just living your life, in your own special way, and things in life happen that you take for granted, and in reality they are special assistance programs or something.  Like the things that you do that you struggle with, either physically or intellectually, are not really all that, nothing that a normal, non retarded person couldn't do without much struggle, except they get to go home and talk about the retard that they had to follow up behind and fix his shit and shit... and so you stumble through life and all it's difficulties, but they really aren't that bad, you just don't know any better.  Because you are mental, you know.  And you work with a bunch of retards (durrr) because, you know, they group you all together, so all these high tech jobs are not really all that high tech and there are actually smarter people behind the scenes that you don't see or recognize, that get all the real hard shit done, but they do it without any struggles...
Where was I going with this?  Uh, I have loved my wife since I first layed eyes on her... I think I was trying to break out back then.  I was barefoot (still am), had stopped wearing underwear, was wearing a flannel shirt/coat deal, baseball cap on backwards with the word LONO written on the brim... Uh, I was on campus at the local community college and didn't know what the fuck I was doing.  I was either in or had just gotten out of a relationship into a crappy relationship and didn't have a job and didn't really know why I was going to college except that I was hoping somewhere along the line something would just friggin' click and I would suddenly be an adult and not a retard or something...  Somewhere in there I had made friends with a band of misfits, and I was talking to one of them in class one day, and he had just shaved his head, but done a really crappy job, there was blood and stray bits of hair still sticking outta his head and it was kinda freaky and I was all trying to talk to him without discussing his head and somehow we discovered that we were both applying to this liberal arts college down the way, and Hey, there was this chick up in the bookstore that was too.  I should go say hi to her or something... I can't remember but do know it was his suggestion.  So I did, and there was this AWESOME chick behind the counter and she was everything I would ever want from a girl on a completely first glance kinda superficial way, you know, and I remember walking through the store killing time and checking her out and finally found something to buy without anyone else in line and I went up there and said Hi and told her I was applying to the same college and I knew this dude that knew her and she totally blew me off.
I probably looked like hell.  I have a history of that, throughout my life.  Never could really find a style or haircut or clothes that really did anything for me... I stick with faded jeans and white t-shirts where I can anymore.
Anyhow, I got her scent, you dig.  I could sense her around campus.  I would see her walking here and there, and being the cute little pitiful retard that I was, I would go in and say Hey to her every once in a while in the bookstore.  I had a girlfriend (so to speak) at the time and welcomed the time away from her and looked forward to having normal conversations with normal people, so I took my changes where I could.
I remember I had this one class, astronomy I believe, and I had a friend that was in the class and we would sit together, and this hot ass chick would come walking in and I was mesmerized and I would point out her beauty to this other dude, and he said something crude once and I was all like, HEY... don't talk about my future wife that way you dickhead.  I remember making my way up to where she usually sat so I could try and sit closer to her... I also remember having her in this first aid class and watching her due mouth to mouth on the resucitator doll and being completely hot and bothered by it.
I think by this time we were on a somewhat civil course, and I mentioned I would try to find her down at the other college... and then she was gone.
And I moved on down there, with my girlfriend, and met another chick at this restaurant that was much cooler than my girlfriend, but not as cool as my future wife, and I told her that she was my number 3, cause, you know, my future wife was my number one and I couldn't wait for her to get down there, but my current girlfriend was my number 2 since she was paying rent, so this other chick could be my number 3 and if all hell broke loose move on up to number one.  She seemed to enjoy this idea and would do things to try and move  up in the rankings, except she talked a LOT... I don't remember her name...
I do remember it was a long summer, and my girlfriend was driving me NUTS and I wanted her to die or at least go away... and I escaped one afternoon and was walking on campus and I remember thinking that she would be there any day, you know, and I wonder where she would be and damn, there were a bunch of cool hippie dudes down there that I would love to punch, but maybe that's what the girls go for down there... anyhow, I was walking across campus when all of a fucking sudden I heard someone calling my name and I looked up and there was my angel.  Holy Shit she looked good, and she was calling me up and was offering me a beer and she had short shorts on and she was awesome and beautiful and I wanted to fall into her arms and let her use her angelic wings to fly me to someplace happy and safe...  We had a beer and it was good.
We were friends based on not really knowing anyone down there and having the same class and I am not sure there was much more to it from her end than that, at first... but we hung out and I was sprung on her and started writing poetry that was about her and obviously not about my girlfriend, and I actually got advice of some sort from her and her roommates on how to dump my girlfriend, which I finally did, and I am not sure when it happened, I think it was a bit before I was officially broken up with my girlfriend that I was hanging out with my future lady, and we were having a good time talking and drinking and smoking and I gave her a mint and said something retarded about how our lips were so close, and we finally kissed... and I never looked back.  It was great, it was fantstic... it was the future.
My monkey was in full affect at that point, I think.  I had like 3 jobs at once, was half assing my way through classes and doing my own thing.  Somewhere in there we expressed love for one another and spent time getting high and playing nintendo.  Somewhere in there she tried to break up with me, and I don't really remember much about the reason, because I try not to think too hard about it, but I remember scrambling and coming up with some sort of something and she stuck with me.  We went home together, she met my friends, and I met her friends, we met each others parents and it seemed so sweet and real and cool, you know...
Shoot, I'm going somewhere with this... I think it was just so easy, beautiful.  We didn't really fight although maybe we should have.  We survived on the edge of poverty.  She exposed me to so many new things, it was like a whole new world opening up.  We were living together, of course, and her parents approved.  I loved her and asked her to marry me and she said yes.  We had a beautiful wedding, which we both agree we would do totally different if we could do it all over again.  We went on a honeymoon and settled into life.
All I ever wanted was to make her happy.  I thought it was my job to do so... Not that I had to suffer to do it, but I thought I had to do things so she wouldn't have to, that I would carry us so she wouldn't have to worry about it, and I supressed my monkey to do this.  It was not so obvious at first, but it became obvious as we went along...  I was not the same guy, and she was not the same girl, but I still loved her more than anything...  Then we had babies so obviously I had to be the rock... and she had to be the rock... and we were starting to go through the motions, you know.  We lost each other a bit, although we were always there for each other and presented a unified front.  But there was less effort.  I felt like there was something more I should be doing, but I was so tired, and often, so drunk...  Being drunk made it better, it was an outlet and all we really had, and it was fun at times... but not like it had been fun before.
I realize now that I felt like I was failing her somehow.  HOW???  I thought I was doing all the things that a grown up man with a wife and kids was supposed to do... and I was tired from doing it, and yet I felt there was something that I should be doing.  So I chose to be paranoid, and disgruntled (a bit) and internalized it, except when there was something really stupid to externalize it over... Bins or something... there were a few other things, I think.  It's all hazy.  I remember not feeling comfortable and going to the doctor and getting put on this drug then that drug then going crazy mental and stopping those drugs and going on some other drugs and then... and then... there was always that, hazing my mind, making it seem not so bad, but it was taking more and more to create that haze... Vodka and Vicodin... can really make life... interesting, I suppose.
Always in there, no matter what I was doing, and how crazy I was making myself, or disgruntled I was making myself from outside influences, I always maintained this bright burning fucking fire in my heart for her.  A big ole bonefire (heh, bonefire) of love and lust for her.  She has always been and continues to be the most beautiful woman I know and I look for happiness in her eyes and smile.  How's that for a heavy load to throw on someone.  How can anyone feel comfortable being worshipped that way.  I suppose it isn't really fair, but it was all I had, you know, and it was what I wanted, to some degree.  It was better than anything else in my life (excluding my kids).
This is the part where I feel like a retard, and we are both retarded, and we are taking care of each other as best we can...  I think it might be harder on her as I can't think of anything I really like to do, although I recognize (now) that I have often been a stick in the mud.  I imagine the normal people looking in on us and thinking that it is a little bit cute, but they would never live that way, but we're retards, so what do we know, you know...
I have been learning, lately, a lot about myself, and giving the monkey the key to the cage... I feel a bit disgruntled, a bit paranoid, a bit sorry to her and for myself... and mostly confused.
You know how you go through life, and you are always told 2 + 2 = 4?  And so you believe it for so long, and one day you are sitting there and someone tells you that 2 + 2 does not equal 4, never has, never will and why do you think it ever had?  And you have to believe them because there is nothing left to believe... but you can't forget how you always believed the answer was 4, and now that it isn't and never has been, what are you supposed to do?  What other equations don't compute?  What else have you been missing because you were so misguided?  What else does the world really mean?  How the fuck are you supposed to roll with that???
Ahhh... but it isn't really that big, is it?  It's just a little thing, a little something something that really doesn't mean a lot, right?  Just a turn of the head, a slight change in course.  The destination is the same, and maybe it's not all rainbows and unicorns, and the path is just to the left of where you thought it was, but you are still on the path together, right?  So what's the big deal?  What's the big deal?
That's what I keep asking myself... I am growing... Oh, my, how I am growing.  Like a lizard or snake or something, it is just the pain of shedding my old skin.  God, I can't wait to get rid of that old skin...
I been talking to Jesus about it.  For real.  And he talks back.  Part of me thinks this is a little crazy, but part of me wonders why I hadn't talked to him before.  I asked him about the Buddha... and he said that the Buddha is cool, and it is fine to find the light within yourself, but you know, sometimes you need a little love and maybe a nice hug.  Wow... and he said that thing about looking for demons around corners, and inventing corners to look for demons around, and suggested that maybe the path I want to take shouldn't have any corners... I like that.
So Jesus, when I see him... Well, the first time I saw him, he was wearing board shorts and a button up shirt that wasn't buttoned all the way and didn't have a beard, and had nice hair.  We just sat and talked, and speaking with someone that doesn't believe, they might say that I was just talking to myself, but you know, I never made that much sense.  And I sat there, next to him, and he smiled at me and told me it was true, that he accepted me and loved me and sure, I might be a fuck up sometimes, but shit happens (he actually said that) and he still loves me and it's all cool, just be there and feel the love.  I am getting there.
I call him Dude, and he is cool with it.  Sometimes I call him Jebus, and he is fine with that... he thinks it's kinda funny.  He doesn't appreciate Metallica, but doesn't mind some good metal (I asked him).  He doesn't have a single favorite, it is all his favorite.
And sometimes I say, Jesus, what about this, or what about that, and he sometimes says, you know, that ain't your problem... and he says, I can help you with you, I can't help you with anything else.
We were talking in a clearing once, walking in circles and not talking because you don't always need to talk, sometimes you just need to be quiet.  Anyway we decided to build a fire, and so I started trying to figure out where to find some wood for a fire and he laughed, and he was all like, does it help you to try and imagine the details like that?  How about if I just start a fire, right here... or would you like to think about building a house and all the steps and issues that go along with building a house?  He was right, I was getting caught up in the details.  So he started a fire and we sat there and we drank a beer together, and he was drinking budweiser, and I was all like, budweiser, and he said he liked the can, thought it was cool, so he drank bud, no big deal...
I talked with him another time and he was wearing jeans and another shirt with buttons down the front that weren't all buttoned... I can't remember what we talked about completely, but we sat by the fire and he brought my wife up to sit next to me, and we just sat there in love and watching the fire and not talking...
Oh, there are other times, moments, where he will ask me if I am making the right decisions or getting off track and I will listen to him, and sometimes I decide he is right and stop what I am doing, and other times I don't, and he loves me just the same.  He recognizes that I have a howler monkey that I have dealings with, and he is cool with that too.  He wants me to be happy, to be free, and to be happy and free with other people, and as long as I don't do it like an asshole it will make others feel happy and free also... and that is what it is all about.  All about me, apparently.
It still makes me nervous, scared, anxious, paranoid, jealous... shoot, what are the other traits that people usually hate in other people?  Add those in there and put my face on it...

Maybe my monkey... and Jesus

I've been kinda letting my monkey dictate things lately. Oh, and I've been talking to Jesus. They don't seem to be that different from each other. Kinda like peanut butter and jelly, they just go together well, although you can have a jelly sandwich and be just fine, or a spoonfull of peanut butter and also be just fine. But in this case they work together well.
My monkey is telling me to play it all loosey goosey, but has pointed out a few things that I had been ignoring and are subsequently making my life a little flavorful. Flavorful. You know how you like soup, and could eat it every day? Clam Chowder? But then sometime you go someplace and get the clam chowder and it just don't taste right? It's kinda like that. I'm not sure I like the path, but I know it leads to paradise so I am climbing over the slippery slopes and trying to get there.
Jesus is pretty understanding of things. I heard this about him before but never took the initiative (or wanted to) to look into it. He told me once, he said, you know, we are always looking around corners for demons, and inventing corners to look around so we can find the demons. It's no wonder we end up finding 'em. Jesus, he don't talk fancy, just a regular dude. That's what I call him when we are talking, dude.
He is laying it at my feet, and my monkey is picking it up and running with it, so I just kinda go where I am pointed.
There is a bit of unhappiness involved with it, but it isn't a new unhappiness, just a newly recognized pre existing unhappiness. Whew... it coulda' really blown up in my face, you know. Postal. I am letting it out slowly, like letting air out of a balloon. There is a certain relief in it, a lessening of pressure and a realization that I am not really that crazy, just misguided. Damn customer service!

I took a test the other day that was supposed to tell my what type of person I am so I can be prepared to learn about emotional intelligence. I probably shouldn't focus on it, but one of the things it said about me was that I was dependable... and dull. Usually right, also, but really, dependable and dull. That is a winning combination. And I am supposed to learn how to relate to people knowing this about myself?!? That I am dull and dependable, dependable and dull?
Ok, let's focus on my shortcomings for a moment, shall we... ok...
I am:
Slow to get things done
Perfectionist (oh really?)
Withdrawn...
Dull
Sullen
Shy
Passive

And based on being the type of dude I would have typically picked on and given a mental dilema, I am supposed to now learn how to deal with people that are none of these things? Talk about coming up from the bottom... It makes me feel like drop kicking someone (that is probably the monkey speaking, though).
So, let's take a look at my strengths:
Exacting
Thorough (oh really?)
Factual (hardly)
Reserved
Meticulous (HAHAHAHHA)
Practical (Ok, I will give them that one)
Calm (only on the outside, inside I am a volcano, and not the kind surrounded by a stripper college and, uh, a beer volcano, ok, nevermind)
High Standards
Risk Avoider

So, the typical Fonzy type of guy that chicks just dig... I don't think, that based on this description, I could even be in The Revenge of the Nerds. Oh, but maybe I am making too much of this, it was just a test that was supposed to take about 10 minutes to take and I completed in less than 2. My monkey is full of RAGE at this. This is not the person I was always trying to convince people I was not for all those years. Oh, I mean, this is the person I was trying to convince people I was not for all those years. I am (was) a badass! Dirty! Mean! Nasty! Leather jacket and dirty sneakers, punk rock and pot. An almighty individual!!! Dammit!!! Not a dependable desk jockey! I had aspirations beyond this, what the hell happened? Oh... my god... have I accepted this??? Is this what I recognize myself to be? Can I move myself up the graph and be something more than this?

My monkey says yes? Yes, but it will be painful. You could lose your house, and your job, and something something that really matters. Ahhhh, the something something that seems to be slipping away from me, like a distant memory or a love that I don't really remember... something something... there should be something definable there, something to describe as a great loss in my life if I, uh, do something... If this, then that, subsequently... this... Do I really have something to lose?

So check it, if I lost it, lost it all, everything, all the something somethings, I know where I would end up, and you could find me there if you were willing to make the trip. Patagonia! Look it up. I would move to Patagonia, and as much as I would like to be a traveling barber, I think the better choice woule be to open a fish stand, somewhere just outside (right outside) the tourist district. Me and my monkey, hell, we would sell fresh american style deep fried fish and chips. Would probably have to use the fat of baby penguins since I ain't really sure they have pigs down there for the rendering. I hear duck fat is the best for fries... maybe they have ducks... penguins are like ducks, except for the flying and the migrating and shit. Me and my monkey, and Jesus, we would stand there, leaning up against the wooden plank we use to serve the fish on, drinking local beer or some sort of nasty high proof booze that is popular amongst the locals. I will wear one of those hats like the gauchos, some puffy pants and boots made out of baby penguins. I might have to learn some spanish or something, but you know, I can do that. Me and my monkey, and Jesus, would stand there, drinking all day and when someone actually came up to buy some fish and chips I would tell them that it was some sort of local fish that tasted a lot like halibut, but isn't, but tastes just the same anyhow and is a local delicacy, then get them all wasted on the local hooch and charge them some outrages sum of money since the exchange rate is all funky and a billion chilean Peso's is quite resonable for a meal for 2 plus some of my private reserve.
There will be a mighty fight of conscious going on behind me, with my monkey and Jesus duking it out like a little angel and devil on my shoulder, but you know what? I decided today, I am going to be a kind of Hank Williams (Sr.)/Johhny Cash/Willie Nelson kinda christian. Will do all sorts of things that I may regret later, then maybe write a song and go to church and make it all good. I will keep in the back of my mind that maybe what I am doing is not the best thing in the world to do, but I will feel bad about it later so it should all even out... the battle between monkey and Jebus will be a draw.

Or maybe I will go with my original plan and go to Nova Scotia. Wouldn't really have to learn a new language that way, and you know I got the salty sea in my blood. Actually my not so distant relatives were lumber men, but a ways back beyond that they were vikings. So I may just trace my roots back to where my people first came over and did nasty things to the locals, and do nasty things to the locals. Nah... I may just sit on the beach with a pipe and a rusty knife and carve pipes out of driftwood or something. Pile rocks on the beach and eat crab and mussels every day. Nasty life, should teach me some shit, you know.

Somethings gotta break...

God Is A Groovy Guy