If You Like Fish 'n grits and All That Pimp Shit

It has been awhile since the last Boosh Clown update, and seeing how the last one ended on a rather morose tone, I thought it time to pump fresh new blood into "Blog is the new blog." So here goes...

The following are highlights from San Cristobal, Mexico to Present

San Cristobal
After dipping my feet in the icy waters of solitude and brushing the rocky bottom I finally broke out of my lonelines by meeting a dude in a bar named Steven. Steven was from Ibiza. He was very nice but looked like Billy Corgan from Smashing Pumpkins and I was kind of afraid he might stab me if I pissed him off. After talking for a bit we met another dude from Italy named Francesco who for some reason in all of my pictures looks like a gaunt, 26 year old female French runway model. It must have had something to do with his long hair and pronounced cheek bones. Francesco showed up at the bar drinking coffee but was apt to try his hand at mezcal. By the end of the night he was singing like a drunk sailor and putting his arms around everyone. The raddest thing about Francesco was that he wore a complete Georgetown sweatsuit to the bar, even though he has never once in his life been to Georgetown.

Road to Guatemala
A fat dude on the bus shared his tacos with me.
Xela, Guatemala
It rained every moment of every hour of every day that I was in Xela, Guatemala. By the time I left my only aspiration was "dry shoes." That said, I had a great time. I had a private room for about 3 dollars a night, played chess with my friend Jeff, and read a book about a gorilla who teaches mankind how to save the world by moving to the jungle and going to less shopping malls. Highlights include: going to empty bar to play pool and having the bar tender let me choose the music. He had an entire Hillary Duff album. Not that I played it...

Antigua, Guatemala
I skipped Lake Atitlan because it is generally filled with coke-addicted hippies. I have heard enough ridiculous shit out of hippies' mouths, I don't need one who's revved up like a Kawasaki Ninja on blow spewing 450 words a minute about the benefits of Fair Trade Coffee. Take off your Che Guevara shirt, you fucking asshole.
So that brought me to Antigua to the Jungle Party Hostel. If you have been to Antigua you probably stayed here, or heard about it and thought "There's no fucking way I'm staying there." I stayed there for a week, mostly because I ran into my friend Jenny's friend Neil, who is on a similar route as me except that he started in Toronto. Neil and a guy named Kevin and I went out every night and spent a fuck-ton of money turning our livers into pulp. Highlights included: Dancing poorly to reggaeton at "After Parties" that smelled faintly of incense and urine, petting the hostel's resident golden retriever "Tiara," and poking the lava of a live volcano with a stick.

Road to El Salvador
After a week at the Jungle Party and being constantly belittled by Kevin and Neil who claimed I would never leave, I finally got the fuck out. The road to El Salvador involved many busses, and ended with me getting dropped in a random town and being told that there were no more busses that night going to my destination. I stayed at a place called "Hotel Arizona" and ate like a king for $1.05. On my way back from eating a stray dog bit me in the leg, but luckily did not break through the denin that such served as a suitable cloth fortress.

Playa El Tunco, El Salvador
I stayed at this tranquil hamlet on the beach for 4 days. My primary activities consisted of sleeping in, reading, lying on a hammock, and attempting to surf. I read a Christian book called "Peace Like a River" and, while slightly misty, did not cry when the father of the family in the book was tragically gunned down by a madman in the last scene. My first surfing attempt ended in what some might dub "disaster" when I washed up on some fairly large, barnacle-encrusted rocks and fell several times on the way in, cutting my feet each time. On the walk back I was acosted by a man named Eduardo who asked if I wanted to "party." Not one to say no to the prospect of mirth and merriment, I had a beer with Eduardo and his girlfriend whom he claimed was a lesbian. They said they had been partying for several days straight. Eduardo asked me twice in 30 seconds if I wanted to smoke weed, then listed off the drugs he did like he was listing off his favorite baseball players. His girlfriend appeared to be under the influence of several mind-altering substances, and she sat and played "Blister in the Sun" on a poorly tuned guitar. Her voice sounded like the battle cry of an Iroquois warrior and every once in a while she would stop playing the guitar to scream at her boyfriend. I had one beer and decided enough was enough.

Playa San Diego, El Salvador
My solitude and sober stint was broken by meeting Kevin, Neil, and a group of others for a weekend at El Roble Hostel, about an hour from Playa El Tunco. As soon as we got there I began to play soccer with the kids from next door. The kids literally ran circles around me as sweat dripped down my expansive gut. I was accused by the other gringos "of trying to break the little kids legs" despite the fact that most of my slide tackles were completely legal. Highlights from the weekend included: spending 58 dollars on "Mudslides" , waking up with about 300 bug bites on my feet, and almost being run over by a cow.

San Salvador, El Salvador
Neil has very blond here and is a fair degree lighter in skin color than most Salvadoreans. The people in the shopping mall looked at him like he was from Neptune. We ate at a fast food place called "Nash" and I got my hopes up bigtime only to have them dashed like sailboat against jagged rocks. It was probably the worst hamburger I have ever tasted and I'm not even sure it was beef. After that we went to see Saw IV and which was one the worst movie going experience in my life. The Nash burger churned in my stomach as I watched person after person get disemboweled on the big screen. Sick.
Back at our hostel I ran into a girl that from UW that I have met at several house parties. Small world.

Alegría, El Salvador
Alegría is a peaceful mountain town that has a crater above it with a a lagoon that purportedly holds a mermaid that preys on young, handsome boys. As Neil and I are both quite strapping, we did not enter the water. In Alegría we were the only two tourists in the entire town. We did not drink for either of the nights we were there but did eat the best steak I have had since being in Central America and also a strawberry milkshake that made my knees weak.

Road to Nicaragua
We had to take 6 busses to get to Leon, Nicaragua. At the El Salvador/Honduras border I saw a van with Washington plates and got really excited, only to find out the guy driving it wore a bandana and called me "bro." I tactfully retreated.
In Nicaragua a kid fell/jumped off our bus while it was still moving and almost died. He sat on the ground for several minutes, unconscious until his legs began to twitch and he slowly came back to life. The women on the bus attributed it to the hand of god, and the kid walked away cluctching his neck and looking slightly confused.

Leon, Nicaragua
Last night was Halloween. People here don't dress up for Halloween. To combat this problem, Neil and I got fabulously drunk and decided we were going to form our own country on an island off the coast of Panama which would be called "The Republic of Rad." I'll let you guess who came up with the name. Drinking makes you think you are awesome and clever. I am neither.

Happy belated Halloween!

- Boosh Clown

Song of the Day: Cumbia Sobre el Río by Celso Piña