new sign ideas
This new sign was removed after a fierce letter writing campaign by some local Canadian types.
No free ride for Fido
Local restaurateurs have got together and with an unprecedented agreement decided that they have had quite enough of people entering their establishments with their scurvy mutts. ¨What can we do?¨ they opined. ''It's not possible to ban dogs and not offend so many clients.'' It was decided to introduce doggy menus. Any choice the individual establishments decided to do was their choice. Chicken, steak what have you. In fact in some establishments it may be the same menu as what they present to the public. A minimum price per pet would be required upon entrance and if Fido, Poopsie, or Boots doesn't like what's on the menu they can have water. (purified or 'natural') One restaurateur was heard bemoaning how these folks won't even eat local fruits and vegis unless they have been marinated in a sterilizing solution. (Which lately has proven to be carcinogenic in itself.) And yet they will gladly dine amongst packs of flea bitten hounds that have evidently recently rolled around in something long deceased. Another food vendor responded as to how the new rules would be received and said "It won't make a damn difference in the number of dogs but it will give the gringos something new to bitch about. The price of water."
The sun did shine. It was too hot to play. So we sat in the house All that hot, hot, wet day.
I sat there with boola; we sat there we two. And I said, “How I wish we had something to do!” Too hot to go out and too hot to play ball. So we sat in the house. We did nothing at all. So all we could do was to Sit! Sit! Sit! Sit! And we did not like it. Not one little bit. And then something went BUMP! How that bump made us jump! We looked! Then we saw her step in on the mat! We looked! And we saw her! The fat bat in a hat! And she said to us, “Why do you sit there like that?” “I know it is hot and the sun it is sunny. But we can have lots of good fun that is funny!” “I know some good games we could play,” said the bat. “I know some new tricks,” Said the fat hatted bat. “A lot of good tricks. I will show them to you. Your mother will not mind at all if I do.” Then boola and I did not know what to say. Our mother was out of the house. For the day. But the Mexican said, “No! No! Make that bat go away! Tell that fat bat in the hat you do NOT want to play. she should not be here. she should not be about. she should not be here, when your mother is out!” “Now! Now! Have no fear. Have no fear!” said the whacked fat hatted bat. “My tricks are not bad,” Said the fat bat in the hat. “Why, we can have lots of good fun, if you wish, With a game that I call UP UP UP with your mota!” “Put my mota down!” said the Mexican. “This is no fun at all! Put it down!” said the Mexican. “I do NOT wish your clothes to fall!” “Have no fear!” said the bat. “I will not let my clothes to fall. I will hold them up high as I drink all your beer. With your mota in my pocket! And your coins in my purse! But that is not ALL I can do!” said the bat... “Look at me! Look at me now!” said the fat bat. “With your mota and your food in the bottom of my bag! I can drink up TWO beers! I can smoke up all the pot! And a little toy ship! And some tequila on a dish! And look! I can hop up and down on the ball! But that is not all! Oh, no. That is not all... “Look at me! Look at me! Look at me NOW! It is fun to have fun but you have to know how. I can take all the pot and the booze and the food!
I can break up the dishes! And puke on the floor! I can call you an asshole And a little boy man! And look! With my wits I can blather away! I can fall down the stairs as I piss in my pants! But that is not all. Oh, no. That is not all...” and off came the clothes and the cursing began ......And that is when we ran, ran, ran, ran.
The nobsters are here. Coming down from the shores of florida or some other hot bed for graft, they have stormed through town like carpetbaggers, scamming, looting, or defrauding any decent person on the street. The list of victims is forever expanding and one would expect a new incident any day. Appearing to be normal retirees they weasel their way into many a pocket book. With a trailer load of scammed shit being towed off by a stolen quad, they have managed to furnish their home with various bits of other peoples stuff. We hope that they have run their course as they have moved away to a near by town. Or it is the hideout. One must be constantly vigilant.
The end is near for many a sane fellow who has fled the grate northern prison. Unexplainable lynch mobs of wealthy gringos are on the prowl, desperately trying to find all who have slipped through official cracks.Or those they just don´t like and hope have arrived here without official papers. The mob informs immigration officials and the hunt is on. Numerous long term folks have suddenly become scarce on the streets fearing to be tagged as illegal, and subsequently removed. The simple notion that people are not illegal is beyond them.
In the morning as the sun was just rising one could smell the fragrance of the flowers. Drawn in closer one saw the anarchic garden in its full glory. The haphazard array of plantings gave it a rustico like charm. Fuck that! Instead, they will build walls of dubious quality and add cement cement cement. Another little loss. then put in some kind of school for the insanity and move on. Nothing to see here.
apologies to Theodor Geisel
The sun did shine. It was too hot to play. So we sat in the house All that hot, hot, wet day.
I sat there with boola; we sat there we two. And I said, “How I wish we had something to do!” Too hot to go out and too hot to play ball. So we sat in the house. We did nothing at all. So all we could do was to Sit! Sit! Sit! Sit! And we did not like it. Not one little bit. And then something went BUMP! How that bump made us jump! We looked! Then we saw her step in on the mat! We looked! And we saw her! The fat bat in a hat! And she said to us, “Why do you sit there like that?” “I know it is hot and the sun it is sunny. But we can have lots of good fun that is funny!” “I know some good games we could play,” said the bat. “I know some new tricks,” Said the fat hatted bat. “A lot of good tricks. I will show them to you. Your mother will not mind at all if I do.” Then boola and I did not know what to say. Our mother was out of the house. For the day. But the Mexican said, “No! No! Make that bat go away! Tell that fat bat in the hat you do NOT want to play. she should not be here. she should not be about. she should not be here, when your mother is out!” “Now! Now! Have no fear. Have no fear!” said the whacked fat hatted bat. “My tricks are not bad,” Said the fat bat in the hat. “Why, we can have lots of good fun, if you wish, With a game that I call UP UP UP with your mota!” “Put my mota down!” said the Mexican. “This is no fun at all! Put it down!” said the Mexican. “I do NOT wish your clothes to fall!” “Have no fear!” said the bat. “I will not let my clothes to fall. I will hold them up high as I drink all your beer. With your mota in my pocket! And your coins in my purse! But that is not ALL I can do!” said the bat... “Look at me! Look at me now!” said the fat bat. “With your mota and your food in the bottom of my bag! I can drink up TWO beers! I can smoke up all the pot! And a little toy ship! And some tequila on a dish! And look! I can hop up and down on the ball! But that is not all! Oh, no. That is not all... “Look at me! Look at me! Look at me NOW! It is fun to have fun but you have to know how. I can take all the pot and the booze and the food!
I can break up the dishes! And puke on the floor! I can call you an asshole And a little boy man! And look! With my wits I can blather away! I can fall down the stairs as I piss in my pants! But that is not all. Oh, no. That is not all...” and off came the clothes and the cursing began ......And that is when we ran, ran, ran, ran.
nobsters in paradise
The nobsters are here. Coming down from the shores of florida or some other hot bed for graft, they have stormed through town like carpetbaggers, scamming, looting, or defrauding any decent person on the street. The list of victims is forever expanding and one would expect a new incident any day. Appearing to be normal retirees they weasel their way into many a pocket book. With a trailer load of scammed shit being towed off by a stolen quad, they have managed to furnish their home with various bits of other peoples stuff. We hope that they have run their course as they have moved away to a near by town. Or it is the hideout. One must be constantly vigilant.
you are owned
The end is near for many a sane fellow who has fled the grate northern prison. Unexplainable lynch mobs of wealthy gringos are on the prowl, desperately trying to find all who have slipped through official cracks.Or those they just don´t like and hope have arrived here without official papers. The mob informs immigration officials and the hunt is on. Numerous long term folks have suddenly become scarce on the streets fearing to be tagged as illegal, and subsequently removed. The simple notion that people are not illegal is beyond them.
Pave paradise, put up a parking lot.
In the morning as the sun was just rising one could smell the fragrance of the flowers. Drawn in closer one saw the anarchic garden in its full glory. The haphazard array of plantings gave it a rustico like charm. Fuck that! Instead, they will build walls of dubious quality and add cement cement cement. Another little loss. then put in some kind of school for the insanity and move on. Nothing to see here.
What goes around..
Several seasons ago a gringo couple decided to hook up their multi bath roomed edifice to the much heralded sewer system. Located several blocks from the beach, they would become the first connection in that area of town. Friends, neighbors and even strangers all tried to discourage them not to, seeing as the sewer has proven again and again that it is clearly not the best functioning system, and flushing shit into it would be far more detrimental to the environment than a septic tank. They were however quite adamant about the technology having been caught up in the famous sewer hook up fee scam of yesteryear. They felt it was not only their right but their duty to hook up, especially after they did pay. They did not care that it was a scam nor that it didn't work... they had paid their money and by god they were going to hook up. And so they did and for a long time they were happy as clams flushing away shit, and paper too!
sometimes comes back
Just recently, one of their downstairs toilets plugged up. Immediately all flushing resulted in a bigger mess. The plumber (the guy whose dad had some tools for plumbing) diagnosed the problem as a plugged toilet and suggested that they use the other bathrooms until he gets back to find the blockage. Needless to say, he didn't return and soon the other bathrooms started to plug up. When the highest situated one started backing up, a new plumber was called. He (the cousin of the guy whose dad once had some plumbing tools) deduced that there was a plug in the line and the system was completely backed up. This was after a driven stake erupted in a geyser of shit that covered the couples still shiny new SUV. A hotel was now in order as the house was quite unlivable. Needless to say the couple were quite pissed off. Both the delegacion and the ejido were unanimous in stating it was their problem, although they did give them the number of a pumping truck. Reluctantly they called. They paid up front with the guarantee of a finished job. After 2 hours the workers said they couldn't do anything about it and left. The couple were now irate, the bill not withstanding, as they were now totally fucked. It seems that the lid to the closest man hole had broken and the whole thing filled with debris shortly after being installed. and the line from there back to the unfortunates' property is completely jam packed with shit. Don't look for this one to show up in the house of the month any time soon. In other sewer news, the fountain of feces has again begun its seasonal display. Much to the chagrin of the resident crocodiles.
open and close
With the quasi opening of tenacatita the one time guards are now having trouble reintegrating into civil society. One small group recently put up a fence going into Los Ingenios, ready to demand ID and to take away any booze and cameras. Unfortunately nobody cares enough to worry about it. Some people have even tried to bribe them into not allowing anyone out. We can only hope.
new stages of grieving discovered
With all the deaths here, we have discovered that the venerable Kubler Ross list clearly missed out on a couple of the stages of grieving. We feel it is our obligation to add to the well known list (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance). These being, the claims to great friendship with what's his-her face, and the avid looting of the deceased possessions. There is also some evidence that suggests a sense of joyous relief at the passing, as well.
house review of the month
This month's house is once again another abomination by one of the notorious 3 gringo builders. The one who thought foundations were for sissies. It sits on the side of a hill hundreds of steps up from a perilously steep road. Another precipitous winding track will take you up to house level that is impassible during rainy season. From this level you descend 2 flights of stairs to the main living floor. This house which is reflective of this builders unimpressive style is all right angles and small cell like rooms. Living and dining rooms must be improvised as there are only a kitchen and 2 bedrooms. The roof top deck does have an impressive view of the bay, but watch that curb when getting to it, as it appears to be an afterthought without any clear access to it. If you don't have any qualms for paying an arm and a leg for a view this place is for you.This may be the last house review as a committee is being set up to eliminate all criticism of houses in lamanz. the new guidelines will be out next month.
