So I met a Red Head...

And he was sooo dreamy. He was funny, intelligent, works with orphans, and, at the time of this blog's publication, had yet to fuck one. He showed me his left nipple and what it means to keep a tidy house. He made me smile. He made me laugh....and his girlfriend was pretty cool too. Sad Face should you ever discover yourself in the land of beer, cheese, and honey (seriously, WI produces a lot of honey) and want to meet Ma and Pa, tailgate at a Brewer's game, or need a nurse (wink wink hubba hubba), please send a messenger pigeon my way. Know that while the nuns have crushed my soul, like a tampon that has been in for a few hours, I would rip out my bloody heart for you (think of how different Shakespeare's work would have been if there had been tampons to use for analogies back then). What can I say, I am a hopeless romantic...

On from Sad Face, Maddy and I managed to catch the wrong bus but still got where we needed to go. On to Roatan. I decided to take scuba diving lessons while I was there and chose the dive shop strictly based on how hot the instructors were, which, of course, cosmically fucked me and I ended up with the 38 year old, overweight, bad tattooed, not attractive instructor - who, from the looks of his teeth is a product of some serious inbreeding. Anyhow, despite the lack of good looks, he was a good teacher. Mr.Bean was in my class; he's French. Let me take this opportunity to discuss a very important topic: the French Kiss. After one of those kisses that makes you wonder if his tongue wasn't exchanged for a dying fish I have decided that the kiss formally known as French will now be called The Belizian Kiss as I........love........Belize..... Back to the subject to get out of this Fish Fry Friday kiss I called in some huge wingman favors (that were the result of my spending TWO nights hanging out with Maddy's BD's boss while the two of them went boat watching). Like a true friend and apparently to rid herself of The Biter she faked an emotional break down that's underlying cause was her parent's divorce (earlier that night the cock blocker Mr.Bean had stated he would not date a girl whose parent's were divorced......riiiiiight....I won't date a guy whose parent's are sibblings, but I guess we all have our own lines to draw). Anyhow, we managed to, yet again, hid in our hotel room.

The next day to avoid the biter and Mr.Bean we rented scooters where Maddy promptly took out an islander, ruining the woman's promising career as a seamstress by brutally and intentionally assulting her with her scooter and screaming, "Jesus Fucking Christ you old piece of shit! Get the fuck out of me and my bitchin' scooter's way! God Damn fucking cobweb crotch old cunt..." While my virgin ears burned from such foul language Maddy sped off giving the poor sweet old woman the finger yelling, "Next time I am going to vote for Palin and we'll bomb the shit out of your island!" I was now faced with the hard choice: Be the nurse I am by stopping and administering CPR, or be a good friend and follow Maddy's trail of dust. For the record, nurse's don't take the hypocratic oath; thus, as I blew past the old woman I simply yelled, "You okay gramma?" She used her last breath to girgle, "F...U...C...K......Y.....O......U......" Unfortunately for us, this was Maddy's first hit and run and, therefore, she was unaware of hit and run etiquette. Driving a mere 1.5 blocks away she stops amongst the angry mob to laugh and bitch about how it was the grandma and her crochet walker's fault. I quickly suggested we get back on our hogs and head out of town. Maddy left whispering this promise, "I'll be back and next time I will take out a small handicapped child in his wheelchair and his brand new Make A Wish Foundation puppy named Mac..." The rest of the day was relatively uneventful with Maddy only almost taking out one other scooter...

So I've been holding my own for four days now which is proving to have slight disadvantages: No one to hold my pack while I pee, no wingman, and no one translating for me (I gave up speaking Spanish for Lent which has been making things slightly more complicated. Next year I'll just do like I usually do and give up Jesus for Lent). But I am FINALLy in Belize....sweet sweet Belize....sweet mother of god Belize.....it is enough to make me believe...well, not in god, but to think if there were a god he did something good - but every blind squirrel eventually finds a nut right? Ahh....Belize....

Too late for booty... but still hillarious

Maddy Berica's drunken email booty call (see Oct. 29 posting) did not pan out in Costa Rica, but he did just friend me on facebook... does that count.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Mr. French Bean, my gay boyfriend, and vehicular assault

We were in Roatan, and Mona met in her diving class a man that looks quite a bit like Mr. Bean. Only he's French, and in his defence, he is better looking than Mr. Bean, but only just. (Mr. French Bean?) So big night Wednesday. We go out to dinner with Mr. FB and then to the bars. The initial plan was to get completely toasted and live up the last nights of the UnMission. However, surprisingly enough hanging out with a French man is an incredible game-killer. So things were off to a slow start, actually, a complete failure at the first bar.

We go to another bar that is a little more happening. I made eye contact with a guy who interpretted it as a marriage proposal and accepted. While I was making polite chitchat (actual polite chit-chat, not code for anything dirty) Mr. French Bean seizes the opportunity to whisk Mona away and I am left to fulfil my wingman duties with dude. Not too big a deal initially as he is good looking, although things got complicated later as I began to suspect that he was gay, and maybe looking for a meal ticket. Though, loyal to my wingman duties I keep myself occupied. (Slight code there, but very PG-rated as the kid is a biter. I think he actually scraped skin off my lips... no further my friend.)

So then Mona comes over and needs an escape, so I fake an emotional breakdown, quite convincingly I might add, and we escort Mr. French Bean back to his hotel. We decide to call it a night although my new gay boyfriend evidently cannot be so easily disuaded. When I saw him at breakfast the next morning (ah!), he told me that he had gone to our hotel looking for me. Good thing we didn't hang out by the pool.) The kid was persistent, popped up three more times that day.

So, to sum up, our last day together on the UnMission, we rented scooters in an attempt to avoid our suitors and were mildly successful. However, what I was NOT able to avoid was a pedestrian that stepped out in front of me while driving the scooter. I thought I missed her but Mona insists I winged her. So I guess we can mark "hit and run" off the to-do list.

Okay... so it's been a while since we have written. Although I have got to say that Mona is NOT carrying her weight as far as posting goes. :)

We are now in Roatan, Honduras on the Bay Islands. We managed to make it out of Costa Rica and through Nicaragua without further incidents that involved hiding from puddlettes or pregnancy scares. I think it had something to do with the fact that we spent the majority of our time in Nicaragua, as well as Tegucigalpa, touring "cathedrals." We really aren't so dirty. Mona even took confession from the Teacher Fucker.

Anyway, we have come up with a theory that the closer you get to the Caribbean, the hotter the men are. So far this theory has held out.

On a sad note, alas, the UnMission is about to split. After Roatan, Mona will be headed to her beloeved Belize and I, Mona Berica, will go to Copan and then to Antigua. I am not sure how we will each fare without a wingman. hohum.

BUT... we still have a couple more nights to go out with a BANG!

to be continued......

UnMission Morality Update

It looks as though the newly discovered moral standards are no match for copious amounts of rum.

Captain Planet, Zorro and Other Super Heros I´d do...

As I drunkenly jumped off a railing into the ocean with my Captain Planet battle cry right into a school of swimming quarter sized jelly fish only to spend the next few hours using my dolphin mating call to unsuccessfully lure the local Argentine hippies into the water I thought of how cat calling the local Panamanian military while they were lined up and their Sergent yelling at them could have ended a lot worse. Too bad I was too amused by the sht-sht I was doing and couldn´t do it for more than a second before sexily foamy spit laughing. It´s not my fault I am funny. All this, however, does not top the feeling I had this morning when I woke to the alarm and some god damn hippie liberal douche bag playing the fucking bongos at 7am knowing that in just a few hours Maddy and I would be zipping through the jungle on cables. Lucky for me at the very young age of birth I was given the gift of motion sickness (you can still see the puke stained windows on Guatemalan chicken buses and the locals still shaking thier heads mumbling about how much of a panzy gringas are) so with the room spinning, bongos playing, full grown men jumping on their beds in the next hotel roomI sifted through my bag to find my Vomit-No-More pills. I took one, then took an excedrin (you can never be too careful), but I really should have had some rum. As we waited for our ride to the canopy some nice old man gently stroked my head and gave me pitty looks (mainly because I didn´t tell the dirty bastard I was drunk as shit and thus the reason for my ill look). The car pulled up with a casi-puddle in the drivers seat. I shut my eyes to try and convince myself that puking in this car would not be a good start to the day. Luckily the driver was savy enough to know what a hang over looked like and offered me a beer (it was like that scene in Alice and wonderland where the mad hatter keeps offering Alice things he doesn´t have. Don´t joke with me about beer. I´m from Wisconsin bitch.). He didn´t stroke my head, but I would have let him. Less than an hour later zipping through the jungle I was left with only one thought: Where have all the red heads gone? And why had that man thanked Maddy for the wink and the nod? Somethings I´ll never know.

Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum

You know what's a good idea? Getting really, really, REALLY drunk and then get up to go ziplining. Isn't that right Mona?