Miami Is Another Country
October 1st, 2013 at 5:57:02 AM
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The Wizard has given me permission to occasionally link an article on my web site. Here is my newest piece: MiAMI IS ANOTHER COUNTRY.
http://frankscoblete.com/travel/3969-2/
http://frankscoblete.com/travel/3969-2/
October 1st, 2013 at 7:39:45 AM
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Gee, Frank. I thought you were just going to write about how, when you go to Dadeland Mall in Kendall, that the sales clerks will speak to you in Spanish before they address you in English? Instead... well... now you know to check out the bathrooms first because chances are the food prep staff uses that same bathroom.
October 1st, 2013 at 7:45:27 AM
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"Cars flashed by. (“Mommy, that man is showing his rear end.” “Timmy don’t look.” “Oh God, Sarah, he just blew a big one onto the ground!”)
As I was finishing up, I noticed it – an alligator, a BIG nasty-looking alligator"
First you pooped out "The Captain of Craps," now you've birthed through your nether eye "The 'Gator of Crap."
SS,DD.
As I was finishing up, I noticed it – an alligator, a BIG nasty-looking alligator"
First you pooped out "The Captain of Craps," now you've birthed through your nether eye "The 'Gator of Crap."
SS,DD.
"What, me worry?"
October 1st, 2013 at 8:10:30 AM
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Oh, Frank....tapped out on the Tamiami Trail....poor you! Poor Jerry!
If the House lost every hand, they wouldn't deal the game.
October 1st, 2013 at 8:40:02 AM
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Great article, Frank!
1.) About the dumping, don't worry, it's happened to all of us.
On one occasion, I was on my way home from a girlfriend's house, (I want to say I was nineteen) and I absolutely FLEW to the Smith station when I got a sudden urge as it was closer than turning around and going back to her house. The clerk was just locking up for the night, the restroom being in a separate building on the other side of the pumps, and I explained my situation and begged him to go get the key to the restroom.
He not so politely explained that it was 11:00, he was done, he would not be paid for anything after 11:00, so he was leaving.
I jumped back into my car and drove the mile-and-a-half home at an average speed of about 50 through a residential neighborhood. I was absolutely pushing the limits of the Silver/White two-tone 1983 Chevy Celebrity's handling, not to mention pushing those tires which had been on the car for at least four years. (On there since I had bought it, when I was fifteen)
Pulling up to the curb, I leapt out of the car hardly bothering to close the door. I made a beeline for the house, leapt over the porch railing in a single bound, (which may have been my undoing, as the three-foot leap required to clear it probably caused me to unclench my anus a bit) and promptly got my key stuck in the door. "SON OF A BITCH," I exclaimed as I wrestled with the key. The key, slightly bent, had always given me problems...and it probably didn't take any longer than usual to get in...but under the circumstances, it seemed as though I wrestled with the lock for thirty seconds.
Finally getting the door open, only twenty (or so) feet from the door to the bathroom, I begin to take down my shorts and boxers as I make way way to the bathroom, and BOOM, massive explosion all over the living room floor. Ruined boxers, ruined shorts. I was so thoroughly disgusted that, knowing the second explosion was coming, I almost considered just finishing up right there because, what the Hell difference did it make? I also idly wondered whether I'd just be better off to finish there rather than track it into the hall.
Ultimately, I decided to disrobe completely from the waist down and finish up in the bathroom. Two hours, an old-school box fan, a carpet shampooer, and half a box of carpet freshener powder later everything was back to normal, except my ego...
2.) Add Miami to the ever-increasing list of places to which I shall never go!
1.) About the dumping, don't worry, it's happened to all of us.
On one occasion, I was on my way home from a girlfriend's house, (I want to say I was nineteen) and I absolutely FLEW to the Smith station when I got a sudden urge as it was closer than turning around and going back to her house. The clerk was just locking up for the night, the restroom being in a separate building on the other side of the pumps, and I explained my situation and begged him to go get the key to the restroom.
He not so politely explained that it was 11:00, he was done, he would not be paid for anything after 11:00, so he was leaving.
I jumped back into my car and drove the mile-and-a-half home at an average speed of about 50 through a residential neighborhood. I was absolutely pushing the limits of the Silver/White two-tone 1983 Chevy Celebrity's handling, not to mention pushing those tires which had been on the car for at least four years. (On there since I had bought it, when I was fifteen)
Pulling up to the curb, I leapt out of the car hardly bothering to close the door. I made a beeline for the house, leapt over the porch railing in a single bound, (which may have been my undoing, as the three-foot leap required to clear it probably caused me to unclench my anus a bit) and promptly got my key stuck in the door. "SON OF A BITCH," I exclaimed as I wrestled with the key. The key, slightly bent, had always given me problems...and it probably didn't take any longer than usual to get in...but under the circumstances, it seemed as though I wrestled with the lock for thirty seconds.
Finally getting the door open, only twenty (or so) feet from the door to the bathroom, I begin to take down my shorts and boxers as I make way way to the bathroom, and BOOM, massive explosion all over the living room floor. Ruined boxers, ruined shorts. I was so thoroughly disgusted that, knowing the second explosion was coming, I almost considered just finishing up right there because, what the Hell difference did it make? I also idly wondered whether I'd just be better off to finish there rather than track it into the hall.
Ultimately, I decided to disrobe completely from the waist down and finish up in the bathroom. Two hours, an old-school box fan, a carpet shampooer, and half a box of carpet freshener powder later everything was back to normal, except my ego...
2.) Add Miami to the ever-increasing list of places to which I shall never go!
https://wizardofvegas.com/forum/off-topic/gripes/11182-pet-peeves/120/#post815219
October 1st, 2013 at 8:50:11 AM
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Quote: Mission146Finally getting the door open, only twenty (or so) feet from the door to the bathroom, I begin to take down my shorts and boxers as I make way way to the bathroom, and BOOM, massive explosion all over the living room floor. Ruined boxers, ruined shorts. I was so thoroughly disgusted that, knowing the second explosion was coming, I almost considered just finishing up right there because, what the Hell difference did it make? I also idly wondered whether I'd just be better off to finish there rather than track it into the hall.
Ultimately, I decided to disrobe completely from the waist down and finish up in the bathroom. Two hours, an old-school box fan, a carpet shampooer, and half a box of carpet freshener powder later everything was back to normal, except my ego...
Damn, I knew I should have eaten breakfast BEFORE coming to the forum.....lol! :D
Fighting BS one post at a time!
October 1st, 2013 at 8:57:16 AM
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TMI here.
