I guess “Oops, sorry” isn’t cutting it. Neither are sayings like “if you want to make an omelet, you have to break a few eggs.”
For illegally deported citizen Ilmar Garcia, it certainly doesn’t do it.
Just don’t ask White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt, one of the president’s Killer Blonde Squad. She’ll quote you the party (Trump) doctrine line and verse and truly doesn’t understand why you just don’t “get it.” I warned that deporting illegals was just the first step as attention will now be concentrated on violent American criminals and we have just the place for you awaiting in El Salvador.
If our students didn’t learn anything in their second semester, let’s hope they’ve been keeping up with the dangers of Spring Break in a foreign country. Even countries who were formerly considered friendly allies have a different view now of America and Americans.
The same fun pranks that might have flown under the radar of local authorities in the past could find you behind bars of a real prison (see: Locked Up Abroad) in today’s zealous global political climate.
I wrote a short story about a Mexican prison, at least my vision of one, and I will post it at the end of this blog.
USA Today says, “the United States is dangerously close to being run by a king.”
What rock have you been living under?
Talk about late to the dance.
What’s tomorrow’s headline?
Amelia Earhart missing?
We already past the “dangerously close” sign some way back there Ace.
Rosie O’Donnell is trying to leave the country but her application for Irish citizenship has not yet been approved.
So go, already.
I say no big loss.
In yet another case of “trimming the fat,” we have decided to quit funding the U.S. Institute of Peace, saving billions of dollars.
Who needs peace when you can spend that money on more war machines and nuclear weapons?
As one of the world’s great animal lovers, I think the idea of service dogs for people who genuinely need them is one of the greatest things going.
I actually like dogs, as a whole, much more than I do people, save for a select few.
But growing up in a military family, my respect for the rules is absolute and my disdain and scorn for those who flaunt, or look for loopholes in the parameters is also absolute.
Harvard, arguably the most recognizable higher institution of education on planet Earth, better watch itself.
With huge reputation comes huge ego and I am hard-pressed to try and come up with someone with a bigger ego than the president.
I think if push comes to shove, Harvard University has much more to lose than DJT.
Capitulate, take the money, and survive to live another day.
The US government just won the Masters golf tournament.
When fan favorite Rory McIlroy won at Augusta Sunday, the US pocketed a cool 42.3% in taxes on the 4.2 million dollar first place winnings.
The man is a billionaire; he could give a damn about the money. He already has more than he could ever spend.
He’s got the green jacket and the career Grand Slam.
*****
Mexican Vacation
Dave lay perfectly still on the cool adobe floor. He kept his eyes shut and listened to the infected rats shuffling across his cell. He could hear the screams of the former occupants of this six-by-six hell hole. In Spanish or English, it didn’t matter; horror was horror in any language. He forced open the swollen slits he called eyes. Damn, he thought as they fought for light. His disappointment grew as they opened and remained open.
Oh well.
Another beautiful day in La Paz, Baja California.
Outside the chalky, bleached-white walls, turistas laughed, guzzled down watered-down margaritas, and posed for silly pictures wearing oversized sombreros. They gobbled down boiled camarrones as big as your fist and swayed rhythmically to the mariachi renditions of traditional Mexican folk songs.
Inside the rotting yellow interior walls Dave’s heart continued to vomit thick blood, keeping him alive one more day. In the corner sat what remained of yesterday’s rice and beans, processed through his bleeding bowels. Next to the fly-riddled mass, the leaking bowl of liquid mocked him.
Come on, Dave. Drink it. I know the guards pissed and spit into it again, but you’ve got to stay alive. Only eight more months.
Dave raised the greasy tin bowl to his lips and drained it.
Eight more months. His original sentence of six years had grown to ten years and eight months for defending his virgin anus from a drunken prison guard. He wondered why he bothered at all. He remained a “virgin” for only two more weeks and then….Dave knelt over his own shit and puked what remained of his roiling guts all over the surprised flies. Yeah, he thought. Another beautiful day in La Paz, Baja California.
All this for a couple kilos of cheap Mexican weed. Such a deal for Pretty Boy Dave. If no WHEN he got out, he was heading back to Laguna Beach and some ten-foot glassy California surf. He couldn’t wait; but he had to. Only eight more months, he thought to himself.
Dave limped into the barren courtyard while the guards sprayed his walls down, but the stench never got washed away. It was Dave’s only friend and constant companion.
In the following seven months and twenty-nine days, Pretty Boy Dave Willows was raped twelve times, four times by inmates and eight by the guards. His two front teeth were knocked from his head in yet another vain attempt to protect what little remained of his dignity. He drank at least two hundred more bowls of piss and spit water, got diarrhea twenty-five times, and dreamed of his beloved Laguna Beach every second of his miserable existence.
Dave didn’t sleep at all on his last night in the cell; the guards saw to that. Afterwards, Dave limped back to his cell, but he was still focused on his departure. He regaled his rat friends with one last story: The Triumphant Return of Pretty Boy Dave Willows.
Daybreak found Dave smiling and enjoying the unique ambience that had been his palace for the last ten years and eight months. Lindo, the most abusive of his jailers, leered lustily at Dave and cackled.
“Odalay precioso, how you like it last night? You gonna miss Big Lindo?” His maniacal laugh echoed throughout the soon-to-be-empty cell.
Yeah, I’m gonna miss you, you bean-sucking asshole. I’m gonna miss you a lot. Dave grinned and stumbled on.
Dave was numb as he was marched across the dusty courtyard for the last time. To home. Freedom. He would be issued a one-way bus ticket to El Paso, Texas. USA. Freedom. He was so numb, in fact, that he didn’t even feel the slimy hands of Lindo as he pulled Dave to him and whispered in his ear.
“You come back and see me pollo. Lindo love you mucho.”
Dave was oblivious to everyone and everything including the chunk of black tar heroin that Lindo had slipped into his pocket.
Dave turned to Lindo and the other guards and smiled. Oh well, kiss my white ass, I am outta here, he thought. “Hasta la whatever” was what came out.
Pretty Boy Dave Willows, with a grand total of eleven teeth, was all smiles as he headed for the main jail where he would be strip-searched one last time in front of the warden.
Another beautiful day in La Paz, Baja California.
******
Stay well.
