Hot Sauce n Dog Shit

---

Dance baby dance like the world is ending, dance baby dance cuz the world is ending! In case you haven't heard, the world is ending. There's natural disasters everywhere. People are getting rocked by volcanos, earthquakes and hurricanes. Donald Trump is dictator of the great USA. I guess we pissed off whatever god we forgot to believe in. I stood on the road and held signs and handed out flyers with my girl in Puerto Vallarta the other day. She comes from Mexico City and there have been over 300 reported dead there.

Sometimes I have hot sauce or dog shit on my bare feet. I still keep my tent almost immaculate, I sleep better in a clean space. I have thorns embedded in my right foot, a swollen left foot from working the heavy bag at my friends' house, and a swollen wrist from spider bites. I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm looking through an atrium of leaves right now, lying in our campground on the most peaceful afternoon. Recently, I've fallen into a state of mind that's new to me; similar to Malpasito in it's tranquility, but different. "Same same but different," as they say in Thailand.

The hood to my car didn't latch fully and I thought I had it rigged so it would at least hold. I was wrong. When I was driving with my friends to Sayulita, the hood flew up and smashed my windshield. No one was hurt but it was very jarring and unnerving. We used a cheap waist belt to tie the hood back down, but it's not safe to drive her right now. I've been working on the mechanic situation for like two weeks. I'm kinda frustrated with it.

I met a couple other gringos last week. They're from an area in Florida near to where I used to live, much younger than me, and I've been hanging with them, trying to show them how stuff works in Mexico, teach them a little Spanish. Fumamos mucho mota siempre! The hostel I've been living in has two pitbulls and Zuri, the one with one blue eye and one brown eye, who I call Marilyn Manson, has begun following me around town whenever I leave. She followed us to the beach yesterday and slept with us at their house. I walk down fifty meters to the tienda and she follows me. It's like having a bodyguard. She's as gentle as a butterfly, but she looks like she's ready to tear shit up at any moment.

The business idea for selling food with Chuck Norris fell through unfortunately. I've had some recent experiences in my life, as we all have, where I put in more than I get out. What else can you do but learn and grow? We still share the same campground and get along just fine. But the business idea is "por la vendana." We'll see, maybe a reconciliation is in order but I doubt it. There are people who drink a lot, have fun, become more sociable and generally are more affectionate. There are also people who drink a lot and often allow their insecurities and internal anger to manifest in the form of unwarranted malevolence toward others. This attribute caused the falling out of the business idea.

What's your personal definition of bare minimum needs? Air, food and water would the the least common denominator for survival. And most of us have had to push ourselves at some point, or have chosen to push ourselves, to a reduced instruction set for life tasks. Mine has been pretty reduced, compared to most of my previous lives. I do have running water, a gas stove and a tent, but that's about it as far as amenities. Simplifying is cleansing for me... Little. Yellow. Different. Nuprin. Who remembers that?

---