when ever i go to the movies…

and I get a box of Reese’s Pieces it takes all of my might not to start chucking them full force at the back of the heads of the innocents in front of me. It’s almost impossible for me not to do it. Tonight I actually had to pinch myself from not. Yes, I’m a bit off.

Also, I cannot stop myself from swallowing chewing gum, every fucking piece. If that shit stays in your stomach for 7 years I’m fucked. Ill have on giant gum baby or poop. It’s going to be sticky anyway you look at it.

JYAG MOVIE REVIEW: CLOVERFIELD

Fucking Rocked. It’s Intense, well made, no cheese factor, super cool beasties and a badass giant monster thing. I recommend this if you like intense suspenseful badass movies. If Beaches is more up your alley, first I am confused why you are reading this secondly you would hate this movie. You also like Bette Midler, so you suck and should stop reading my blog. Or send me five dollars and I won’t think you suck.

I digress, Cloverfield, fun kick ass flick – see it.

SIDE NOTE. Beaches sucks balls. So does Celine Dion

Oh heath :(

 

Damn dude! Sucks your dead. I really liked you.  Not gay liked you … I mean, I could quit you if I had to, but I was definitely a nut hugger of yours. You were a pretty boy with balls, with character, with soul and it showed in everything you did. You challenged your self with roles most men wouldn’t touch, and were rewarded with roles everybody wanted and you’re supposedly the best Joker ever.  (How kick ass it just to play Joker?) Plus you got hotty ladies, had a cool little kid and a career of greatness ahead of you.  All because you went after it like a bat out of hell with no excuses  

They say the good die young and the brightest burn the fastest. I don’t think I like those analogies very much. To me this is just an excuse for giving a reason why to the young ones we lose, when in fact we lose them to stupid choices, which are mostly drug or alcohol related. Granted, I will say most of my great stories have come from drugs and booze induced situations, so what the fuck do I know.  I know it sucks to lose someone this way. Super star or not.

Rest in peace bro. I will miss what you could have done and thank you for what you did.   My heart to your family. I will be at the Dark Night opening day and you will be in my mind wondering why you quit us  as you totally kick ass.

 

Home again home again jiggity jig.

 

I made it back to the states.  As much as home rules I cannot say I am happy to be back. I enjoyed living in a haze of reality that was my Argentina.  Who wouldn’t?  Wine ,women, travel, weed, hotels, steak – medium rare, and cheap JW Black. I almost started smoking cigarettes again just because it felt right.  

All good things must come to an end.  I am putting my money on a sequel coming out soon. Godfather II was better than the first.  I holding on that my return trip will be better than the original as well  I think i’m just going to write a book “90 in Buenos Aries” That will give me a purpose for going.  ill probably kill myself doing it, but it sure as hell would be fun.

It’s funny coming back home from a great trip.  You change, or at last you think you do, but the place you come back to doesn’t. It just a place. Everything went on with out you, although nothing really looks the same to your eyes again. You feel reborn a little bit.  That is until you get used to the  same boring ass rhythm you were in before your trip and the magic of adventures washes away like sand in the shower.  The great thing about sand is that it sticks in weird crevasses and you can’t get all of off for a while.  I ‘m digging on the Argentina sand in my butt. I hope it sticks for a long time, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me feel at home.

Oh my..

I’m still up from last night. Wow,  we killed the place.  killed it.  We had body guards, drinks,  girls, beats, friends,  sunrise, beach, wine, treats, umbrella’s, sand in pants, lunch, sauna, shower, buss,  and then, hopefully pass out soon. This night deserves more attention when i’m not still buzzed (wasted) with an itchy sand butt.  (ouch)

This keeps getting better

I’m doing my best to keep up with this, but wow, the lack of sleep, copious amounts of booze and loosing my computer in my pile of clothes in the corner has made it difficult to really do this blog thing properly.  I have been requested for more details, so here goes anyways.

In a nutshell, last night ruled. Soul bar was fantastic, hip, fun, funky and hotties galore.  My neck is in a brace today from hottie whiplash.  (“Hottie” is all my local buddy Leo can say and it’s making me giggle like a school girl.) I think it’s impossible for women to be ugly here; even the ugly ones are hotter than any one anywhere.

Did I mention I am a giant here? 6′4 towers over the locals.  I feel like I could pick them up and swing them around my head or just bonk them on the head for fun.  Any hoo, we got to be buddies with the soul staff and kicked it with the bartender for a while. He insisted I try all of his crazy concoctions. I will not bore you with the list of cocktails he tossed at me but the most disgusting one was a martini that was a mix of Tabasco, Jaeger and tequila.  Fucking nasty.  He was so proud of it that I had to drink it.  Happy little fucker he was.  Needless to say I got wrecked. I got wrecked. I got wrecked. The  next thing I know we are in this Betty Page bar called “Mondo Bizaro” Lots of chicks with bangs and dudes with side burns.  Not to shocking considering the theme.  I ended up buying a stuffed chicken form a toothless 70-year-old lady.  Who says I don’t have game?

I Woke up this morning hurting, but made it to the bus station on time to go to PinaMar.  It’s this pimp ass beach town all the rich folk go to for the summer.  My buddy got booked to play this club called Ku.  They payed for everything, including my bus ride and hotel so fuck it.  We were met by the owner of the club at his hotel to exchange gifts and pleasantries.  I love this culture. Everybody has such respect and is so kind and generous. Not exactly how things are back in the states. Hotel club guy  gave us cool shirts and cd’s.  He wore a red nut hugger and a yellow tank top that showed off his hairy arms. Yes, he truly kicked ass.

After some stir fry and a walk around the town, o  then some lovely time in the bathroom dealing with my stomach and the fact that my butt does not like the food and travel very much,  but it does love the bidet’s! (side note: bidet’s rule!  Never felt so fresh and so clean clean)

I am all spruced up to rock out with my boy in front of 6000 people!  Yup, 6000 people.  They forgot to mention this is the biggest club in this part of the country.  FUCK.  Should be a trip for sure. I’m just carrying the records and priding my self on being the white Flava Flav of South America.  I figure if people see me in the DJ booth, they will think I am a rock star.  We… I mean he goes on at 3am – 7am. Then we are off to an after party lounge thing on the beach.

That’s it for now kiddos.  More later.

Peace suckas

JYAG

Went to Urugay

It was that great.  Ate a sandwich, drank a bunch of beer and passed out on huge boat.  I snored the whole time and people laughed at me.  Whatever, their country is poop and it has ‘gay’ in it. Back in BA.  Going to some goofy soul bar with my old friend Lucas to eat sushi and listen to …well, soul I  guess.  Thats why it’s called a soul bar.  I have had so much meat the past few days, fish sounds awesome. Then clubs, beats, more drinks and who knows.  ;)  Side note: I looked at and apartment for $500 a month that is insane. I could live like a pimp here and i think i would  like that.  Hmmm, this place is looking more like a possability for good ‘ol JYAG   

The bitch is okay with me.

 

In a world of plastic success and one up man ship where there is no balls left, bars and booze are the last frontier of being a primal human. Where acting like a coconut throwing, chest pounding, dancing monkey is okay and encouraged.  Where women can flash their sexuality and rub their asses anywhere they please and no one thinks twice about it. Booze is humanity’s lubrication, used to grease ourselves up to show who we really are. Alcohol is truth. Truth can be ugly, but ugly is reality and reality is bitch and bitches can be fun to fuck.  The problem is when you fuck a bitch you have to pay for it one way or another. That’s why god made prescription drugs

 

Booze makes us braver, makes ugly people good looking, makes boring situations fun. Enough booze makes it possible for a nun to fuck a straight priest or at least a parishioner.  It makes it possible for things that never should happen, come to fruition. Whether we like it or not, alcohol strips us down to our basic instincts, fuck, fight or dance. At the end of the day that is all were are here to do any ways.

 

There is class in drinking.  Dirty martinis in a black suit, surrounded by a mahogany bar, smoking a cigar while talking up divorced rich women in tight dresses might not be real but it sure is better than the alternative. In a world where most of the country is sitting at home staring at the blue screen of television, slowing having their souls sucked away, ill take the vodka and vermouth any day of the week. Ugly reality kicks the shit out of Everybody Loves Raymond.

 

Everybody has a great drinking story.  Maybe it’s meeting a chick that is way out of your league while she is dancing on the bar badly grinding her ass in the air and she takes you home with her best girl friend to  “experiment.” Maybe its getting the balls to punch some dude out who took your bar seat and called your favorite bar tender a fat cunt.  Maybe it’s waking up in bad hotel room in Mexico a in a haze, covered in vomit with no recollection how you got there.  Anyway you look at it life would not have the adventures with out our friend alcohol

 

If alcohol is the catalyst to all that is dirty wrong and fun, what does that say about our souls?  I wish I had an answer beyond the fact that writing this makes me want to go to bar have a few cocktails and see where it takes me. Fuck, fight or dance, I know the bitch is going to bite back someday and I’m almost all out of pills.

 

 

Hello Hombers

I stink, my feet hurt and I don’t love Jesus.  Really was that kind of morning. Really was that kind of night.

I have been up the mountains of Cordoba and Carlos Paz for the past few days.  It’s like somebody took Colorado and Paris and mushed the two together.  Fucking cool.  Awesome mountains drop dead gorgeous girls, and tiny little cafe’s with tasty eats.  To make a long story short, (mostly because I don’t really fell like typing.  It’s fucking nice out and I’m on vacation. )  The place ruled. We had a hip ass beach on a lake, models interview us because they thought we were famous, go cart racing, Black Label on the rocks, No sleep, crappy showers, awesome food and met some cool new friends.  Not to bad.

Dinner is always at 11pm and we never make it home before 6 or 7, yet our travel always seems to begin at 9ish. Two hours sleep is enough, fuck it.  Nothing a con leche and some Malbec can’t clear up.

Anyhoo guys and girls, I hope all is well in the states. I really don’t give a hoot what’s going on.  I know I just don’t want to go back.  Funny how travel gives perspective.  Travel… and a bunch of pot wine and women can really make you think twice about home and life.

Things i have learned in Buenos Aries in 24 hrs

Girls are jiggly

Wine is cheep

No one speaks English 

A smile and wink will get you everywhere

I stick out like a sore thumb

Every girl has a bubble butt 

Life is slow

Mullets are cool 

I’m not good at math

Clubs are filled with kids

People eat dinner at 11pm 

I don’t belong in the USA

Dogs are smart here 

That’s it for now.  I’ll see what I learn tomorrow.

Peace out suckas    

Good luck Argentina, here comes JYAG

 

  

I made it toArgentina. It was long day of travel that involved a 4 hour lay over in Atlanta where I told people I was a vice cop from Ohio tracking my arch enemy down to Buenos Aries, promising to bring him back for American justice. Very Dog bounty hunter style. Suckers. They bought me s scotch and I pooped a couple of Xyanix blowing my tales way out of proportion, they stared at me with glossy eyed delight. Lying is so much fun. I stumbled on to my plane attempting to speak Spanish apologizing for being late and passed out hard; snoring loudly I’m sure. The lucky middle-aged lady who sat next to me didn’t seem very happy. I thought she won the jackpot of the plane.

 

I woke up slightly confused in South America with the middle aged Spanish lady gone . I vaguely remember resting my head on her shoulder some point during the flight. Miraculously everything worked out and the true adventure began. I spent the day with friends seeing sights, eating lots of local ice cream (ice cream shop every seven blocks here, weird) and finally drinking myself in to oblivion at some odd nightclub until 7am. After a drunkenly weird time with local girls of ill repute my buddy and I ended up back at our screwy little hotel room with zero pesos and a few dirty stories laughing our ass of on the out tiny porch of our new home.

 

It ruled I will be doing my best to share our adventures down here with you. Right now I’m hung over as hell and deciding whether I should fart or get up and go to the bathroom. I don’t want to gamble and lose if you catch my drift.

 

More later

JYAG