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Monday
The hotel is pretty sweet because it has a fake waterfall. I’m sharing a room with my dawg, Robbie, who is pretty chill except when he’s raging from the steroids. We have two queen-size beds and we’ve already decided to push them together to make one huge bed. Whoever brings a babe home first gets the bed. Whoever comes home second can hook up with his bimbo on the hotel fire escape.
Robbie and I take naps because we’re so tired from the flight. We wake up, drink a bottle of tequila, then wrestle. Robbie’s like, “I have to shower,” so I watch MTV and wonder where we can buy coke.
It’s time to go out on the town so we start applying product to our hair to make it look tussled. Last year we both were into the straight-forward-and-then-up-in-the-front hairstyle but now we know that only posers wear their hair like that. It’s better to make your hair look like you totally don’t give a crap. Robbie comes out of the bathroom and we realize that we’re both wearing the same Seven jeans so we laugh about that for a while but then I go, “Yo, seriously. Take those off.” We both wear Lacoste polos but the sleeves on mine are cut off because I want to show off my arms. On my right bicep there’s a tattoo of a snake with big fangs. It coils all the way around my arm and then eats itself.
We drop some X at the club and run on the dance floor where everyone is sweaty. I pretend to do Robbie D-style, which catches some bimbo’s attention so I slow dance with her for a while and give high fives to Robbie because he’s dancing with the bimbo’s friend who’s about three hundred pounds. My dance partner is wearing a black one-piece swimsuit, says she’s thirty-eight, and has a cigarette dangling out of her lips. I start E-rolling like crazy and try to bite her nose off.
My mouth gets really dry and me and Robbie go home. We’re too lazy to push the mattresses apart.
Tuesday
Killer hangover. I miss my saratang. Saratang is the juice in your brain that makes you happy. It’s not there anymore. Totally depressed.
Robbie and I do free weights in the gym and then hit up the tanning beds. Starting to feel better. Robbie climbs into my tanning bed because he wants to kill me because of the steroids. I’m like, “Chill, bro,” and karate chop him in the neck. I am bigger than Robbie because I have been seriouser about my body for longer.
The beach scene is lame. I’m sitting there alternately flexing my pecks and not one chick comes up to talk to me. Plus, I have a great tan and it’s only my first full day of spring break. Finally, Robbie and I are so pissed off at these girls that we decide to use the old “pretend to overthrow your buddy with a football so that he has to dive onto the girls’ beach towels” routine. Robbie throws the football too hard and it breaks some girl’s sunglasses and she’s screaming at us and stuff. Robbie and I are so pissed off that we tell all the girls that they’re fat and then arm wrestle each other. We go swimming just to cool off. When I’m in the water I notice that my chest hair is starting to grow back and the salt water is making it sting.
Do car bombs in room until blacked out.
Wednesday
Wake up next to fat Pakastani bimbo and young German boy. Robbie is asleep in closet. Never imagined this happening. Power up my laptop and check out webMD. Go to the “What Are STDs?” page. Says I’m at risk if:
I have more than one sex partner
I don’t use a condom when having sex
I share needles when injecting intravenous drugs
I trade sex for money or drugs
I smile to myself because I know I probably did all four last night. My penis burns but who cares. It’s spring break, dude. I get the Pakistani bimbo and the German boy out of the room before Robbie wakes up. They ask for money and I’m like, “What am I? A friggin’ Automated Teller Machine machine?” I remind them that I have a tattoo of a snake eating itself on my bicep and they leave. There is a full length mirror in the bathroom so I get naked and flex my muscles until I get bored.
Robbie and I put on board shorts and visors and go to the hotel’s breakfast buffet. I throw a sausage link at a girl to get her attention and when she looks up I click my teeth together like Val Kilmer in Top Gun. I’ll probably get her number later…if she’s lucky. Oo-WOW.
Decide to wear aviators at night and call all females “chica.” Robbie decides to do same thing and I tell him to get a life and be original. Then I give him a peace sign and he tries to bite me in the jugular because he’s ‘roid raging again.
Thursday
Wake up with mild irritation in buttocks/groin region. Look down and realize I’m wearing a Speedo, which has been stuffed with beach sand. Can’t remember playing on beach or owning Speedo. I also have a magic marker in my hand. Look across my pillow at Robbie. He is naked except for snorkel, goggles, flippers, and water wings. His forehead says, “I’M A CO--,” but then there’s a long marker streak. I must have passed out while writing. Wonder what I was trying to spell.
Breakfast = 1 pancake + syrup + 7 cervezas!
Invent new drink: Aunt Jemima shooter. Drop a shot of 151 into half-pint of syrup and chug. You can hardly taste the 151.
Robbie and I go to the MTV stage where the Baha Men are performing with Ashlee Simpson. I get chosen to dance in the background because I did a thousand sit-ups before leaving the hotel and my hair looks totally unintentionally perfect. The Auntie J shooters start to hit me so I run on stage and force-kiss Ashlee Simpson, who is not as blonde or as hot as she looks on Newlyweds. MTV kicks me off their set and the Mexican police threaten to send me to a dilapidated prison where I will be forced to make license plates and cock fight all day long. I decline invitation because I would rather take nap.
Robbie is pissed at me for being selected as background dancer. He gets so jealous sometimes. He wants to wrestle but I’m too tired so I let him get me in a headlock and then fall asleep.
Have weird dream where Robbie is threatening to leave Mexico and fly home. I placate him by letting him wear the Seven jeans to club.
Wake up wondering whether I should purchase a white cowboy hat. This is all going by too fast. Must stop napping. Must make most of spring break. Must find decent, or semi-decent, coke.
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