Inappropriate kegiscations

I am of the idea that vacations are for funness:

I think the recipe for funness is 1/3 cup of fun people, a splash of alcohol, and 186 grams of anorexorizing your life before you go so your stomach is flat.

Some people may look at the, for lack of a better word, man, next to them and think, "I want some romance, someone to look at me in my inappropriate dinner dresses, and to rub oil on my newly anorexiced back. He has a band aid on his zit, and wears joveralls, has too many DUIS to really name, has no redeeming features or characteristics, and doesn't have any dinero. Sometimes, when he gets really mad at me for me being sad when he hit me in the face with a pillow, he breaks up with me. But breaking up makes him sad, and I make him feel BETTER!!!! Yeah...yeah....this is a great idea....let's go ahead and take this lil prince out of the country with me to beautiful Acupulco"

So this female, with her beautiful guns of arms and beautiful exoticness to make anyone wanna do an acapulco cliff dive, takes her (conquest?) to Mexico. They're walking along a street one night after she begged him to stop looking for la pharmacia or el drugdealerio and take her somewhere romantic. She didn't need to be ravished on a cliff, just maybe point to the beach and say something that doesn't involve "bitch" or "money" or ,okay "band-aid", for that matter. I think that would've done her just fine. Mid-whine he interrupts her for a moment only to have a fun little pop into an ACUPULCAN STRIP CLUB (what.I just want to peek at the girls and see what they look like......?) It's a good thing she can find solace and peace in her beautiful Chanel sunglasses, as well as the rosary she brought to be blessed by the local Catholic Priest. She sits outside of La Casa Loca Chica de Nada, holding her beads and praying for a beach bar and a sarong. Shrek gets his glimpse of the senoritas, then escorts her home, romantically pointing out alleys that could be good for catching some peote. (I don't know how to spell peote and I don't know if one "catches" it)

The next morning, they attend a beautiful mass, while my perfect princess is i'm sure impeccably dressed, and her suitor is wearing shorts that are too big, a shirt that is too short, a band aid on his face, and a back pack that is setting too high on his shoulders. In the middle of Agnus Dei, he demands money for a marijuania and pepito sandwich. Okay, maybe just the pepito sandwich. When my lovely asks him to abstain, he crushes her Chanel sunglasses. She sweeps up the chunks and keeps them, and is probably tempted to ask the priest to bless them as well. Our favorite mexican travel companion returns and rubs her shoulders, being loving and slightly churchy. Then they end up yelling at each other and she leaves, her beads will next be blessed by the inappropriate toys they end up laying next to in her romantic getaway-suitcase.

No beach. No tan. No romance. None of her co-kegises. Her highlight of the trip was in the airport in bbbeaaautifull and murderous Mexico City, in a cubicle, for 360 pesos. FHL. Kegis her life choices. Next time Acupulco needs to be with me. The only drug I indulge is sweaty dancing, which I will overdose on EVERY NIGHT while walking around giving anyone back rubs and referring to myself as Maria Flores, doing the thriller dance and moonwalking, and trying to convince any mexican that looks scuzzy that he can "turnnnn your lahf arrrounnnd. yaaa knoooow?"

We love you, friend. May all your inappropriate choices make something better for you than just my blog.