After the falls we were taken back to the town of port as we then decided to shop around for a little bit. Something positive about Jamaica is that the exchange rate for dollars is insane. You could easily feel like a rich person in Jamaica very quickly.

The exchange rate for $1000 Jamaican Dollars is $10.13 US Dollars. Ballin’ like the Benjamins bitches

So we are shopping around in town and a man approaches our group and states how he wants to take up to his store because not many people visit it. So we all agree and end up following this guy as he starts to take us gradually more and more off the beaten path. We begin to doubt this man’s intentions as we soon arrive at a very shady part of town. Once we get to a dark alley he turns to say to us “It’s fine, really. I promise I won’t kill you” which is pretty cool you know. I mean everyone knows that you can trust someone that promises not to kill you.

A moment later and we arrive at his little novelty store in the middle of a creeper alley. We buy what we want and head back to port. On the walk back another man walks up to us and asks if any of us would like to buy any pot from him. We all quickly decline as he is then right up to use with his follow up “O, alright. How about some shrooms?” to which there was a long debate over the practices of security and customs agents while getting on the ship. We end up turning down his kind offers and head back for the ship… without drugs sadly.

I know why, it’s because we didn’t get any drugs.

We board the ship and put away our purchases as we all find our own shit to do before dinner, which was in two hours. Mind you, the dinner where we get fed was like royalty. Okay, now that we have that out of the way… anyway, less than two hours before dinner is to start, the girl that dumped me the day before (on the first full day of my first cruise ever… in case you forgot), we’ll call her Vicky* was hungry and wanted a little snack. So she asked me if I would come with her to go get a little snack before dinner. Sadly… I agreed.

So we went up to one of the buffets on the ship to grab some grub. I end up getting a plate filled with some pasta and she gets two plates; one loaded with pasta and the other loaded up with salad. She sets down her plates and I see how much food she got right before we are to have a huge dinner. As she’s turning to go get a drink I say to her “Wow, you got a lot.” Which in hindsight may have been ill advised at the time.

So she sits down and begins to stab her food with a force that you’d see from a KKK member eating at an NAACP meeting. But I digress. So I notice how she seems to be stabbing her food with a vengeance and say “Is something wrong?” which may also have been ill advised. As she then ratcheted her head sideways and slammed the palm of her hand on the table and said “You know what, yes, there is a problem.” As I then couldn’t help but smile as I put both hands under my chin in the bluntest display of the “I’ll still listen to you but at this point you can kiss my ass you stupid bitch” look. So I then, politely as I could said “O, well please do tell then?”. It was on like Donkey Kong.

She then proceeded to try and hammer into me as she then said “What was that supposed to mean?” to which I could only give the retarded squirrel look as I answered back “What did what mean?”. She then escalated more and more as she replied “Back a moment ago, when you said ‘wow, you got a lot’ what was that supposed to mean?” to which I had to laugh as I answered: “Because you did get a lot.” As I gestured to her food. Then like most sane women she asked if I was calling her fat. To which I could only laugh at her in the face again as I replied “First, you’re 5’8” and 120 pounds soaking wet. I really don’t think this is something to get bent out of shape for. Second, you got two full plates of food and we are having dinner in about an hour and a half.” Granted you’d think that I had won that discussion with what some of us in the industry call “logic” but no. She continued on and on refusing to lose the pointless argument over whether I was calling her fat or not. Kill me now.

This is how a discussion with her works

To be continued…

While on the waterfalls, once you get past the fact that you’re being treated like children, and the reality that your guide has little to no people skills, the falls are actually quite beautiful. In fact, easily one of the most beautiful nature scenes I had been in my life. It’s like hiking up the waterfalls and being surrounded by a Rainforest Café. And who doesn’t like Rainforest Café?

Scarlet Ibis. Native to Jamaica

Once you arrive at the top which takes about an hour, the guide will ask you if you want a copy of the video from your climb that he recorded on his video recorder from what looks to be from a thrift shop in 1995. It still used tapes in it for crying out loud. They will ask for $40-$60 for a copy of the video depending on which guide you ask as they try to milk all that they can out of the tourists. You can talk them down to $30 easily and split it amongst your group and make copies of it on your computer. The video is spotty at best. At least they format it onto a CD. I’m a little surprised they didn’t sell it in Beta format.

I’ll give you a basic rundown of what your video will look like: A cheaply made introduction for a few minutes describing the falls and area and junk. Then, your tour will be up. It will display footage that looks like it was filmed in 1995 as you see him running down the line of 40+ people and scream-asking if they are all ready to get “WET WET WET”. Then, the video will progress to the hand-crafted styles of cutting to a stranger, him screaming “WET WET WET” as he then splashes them. The video will then cut out abruptly as it comes back on in front of another person with him screaming “WET WET WET” as he then splashes them and immediately cuts the footage. The stop and cut footage of him screaming at strangers and then splashing them will continue on for about 15 minutes where at some point you will say “Look, that’s us!” as you then hear him scream “WET WET WET” and splash you over and over until the camera cuts out again. Depending on how drunk you are during the climb you will either look happy after being splashed or you will be giving the camera a look of pure hate.

Sober attitude to camera after being splashed

To be continued…

Once at the Dunn River Falls we finally saw that… man were they beautiful. I mean these falls were one of the highlights that helped to counteract the vast piles of shit that had been dumped on me during this trip so far. The plants were so different and colorfully tropical. The birds were beautiful. The falls were amazing… ah, right, back to the shit hole vacation that I was bound to endure.

Once off the god-forsaken catamaran you are lead to a general staging area and put into lines of upwards of 40-50 people. That’s correct, you cannot free ball climb these falls, you have to be chain-ganged to a gaggle (or is it a murder?) of fat bastard tourists with no athletic ability and the desire to take seventy thousand pictures. Just fucking kill me right now.

See: Chain gang

Did I mention chain-ganged? That’s right! You have to hold hands with the person in front of you and the person behind you while you hike the falls to make sure the buddy system stays alive outside of the film Heavyweights. So on top of the bullshit that is being treated like 3^rd graders and Jews in a concentration camp (at the same time) you then get the pleasure of meeting your guide. Just so you know, your “guide” holds a video camera the whole time as he is also the cinematographer for your hike up the falls, doesn’t this sound exciting? It should, because he will then spend the rest of the duration of hiking up the waterfalls with your group as he does nothing but stand in front of random people, turn on the camera, scream “WET WET WET” in a thick Jamaican accent and then proceed to splash you with water whether you want to be splashed or not… then he repeats the process… over and over for the next hour…

Every time your waterfall “guide” comes along.

To be continued…

Shortly after Jack had tried to drink his own piss that morning, we all eventually got around to getting off the boat and go exploring across the lands of Jamaica.

Dunn River Falls, Jamaica.

Once ashore in Jamaica five of us decided to climb the Dunn River Falls and one couple just wanted to walk around and do god knows what. I went for Dunn River Falls hiking. To get there from the port we had to ride on a catamaran and get served rum punch the whole way there. It was brilliant, even the staff were drinking it. Now… one thing I should tell you about hiking the Dunn River Falls, is that if you’re going to change into a bathing suit… do it before you get on the catamaran. You see… the bathroom aboard the catamaran had less foot room than a kitchen sink. Between the toilet and the door there was just enough space for my feet to be straight. Now, another thing about catamarans is that they are usually smaller (at least in Jamaica they are) and you see, small boats do a lot of rocking in the ocean. So imagine this, you’re down below deck on a catamaran and getting naked to change into a bathing suit. You have no feet room outside of standing perfectly still, and the boat is rocking back and forth violently. Every time you reach down to bring your bottoms up the boat rocks to the side and you have to let go of your swimsuit to brace against the bulkhead so as to not get a concussion. You repeat this process over and over until you realize that you’re not going to die naked in the bottom of a Jamaican catamaran… you decide to brace your feet against the wall like something seen in Mission Impossible and go for it to pull up your bottoms, risking severe injury, concussion, and a potentially naked death surrounded by fat tourists from Canada… and no one wants to die surrounded by fat Canadians.

Abandon all hope ye who enter. I’ll see you in hell catamaran… I’ll see you in hell.

Don’t worry folks, I made it, and I only hit the side of my head about seven hundred times in the process. After the alcohol-fueled catamaran arrives… you’re at the Dunn River Falls.

To be continued…

So, I was dumped on my first cruise ever… hey, who hasn’t that happened to? The next day we were in Jamaica man. I awoke early to the beautiful trees of Jamaica that were outside our balconies. I would like to say more about Jamaica but it was pretty much like a second world country. The buildings were cheap like shanties spread out across the hillsides. The trees were beautiful, and so was the ocean at least.

Jamaica. Beautiful water and trees near water.

That morning another girl in our group had planned to go for a run so I got ready and went next door to go get her. She lets me in. She’s in her bathrobe drinking some coffee and quite looks like shit. I soon learn that she had been up all night making sure her boyfriend wouldn’t choke on his own vomit or sleep walk off the balcony. Hey, it’s good to have goals. Apparently her boyfriend, we’ll call him Jack* tends to sleep walk while he’s drunk. It just so happened that the night prior while I was getting dumped on my first cruise ever, the rest of them were partying it up… you know, while I was getting dumped.

Jack’s drunk sleepwalking was so bad during the night that he ended up getting up in the middle of the night and pissing into a pitcher of water, all over the dresser top and into the underwear drawer of his girlfriend. So now it’s morning as her and I are talking out on the balcony of her room when all of the sudden, sleepyhead Jack awakes and is still slightly drunk and disorientate. We watch him get up as he goes straight to the pitcher and begins to pour himself a nice, cold glass of his own piss water. His girlfriend then trots over and grabs his arm and tells him “Don’t drink that.” As he then agrees and grabs a hold of the glass, lifting it to his mouth, his girlfriend then resists his arm again as she then says “Don’t drink that. You peed in that water.” As he then agreed once more not to drink the water as he started getting a little aggressive. I continued to watch from the balcony in amazement as he tried yet again to drink the water. This time his girlfriend used both hands to strip the glass of water away from him as she then said “Do not drink this! It is your piss!” to which Jack angrily answered back “Okay! Fine! Damn!”. Nothing cures a hangover like a nice, tall glass of piss in the morning.

Breakfast of champions

O the woes of that relationship, if only she would let her boyfriend drink his own piss water once in a while.

To be continued…

Where was I… ah, yes, I was dumped on the first full day of my first cruise ever. That’s right.

After she had dumped me we talked on and on for a little bit as she described the bullshit case for dumping me on the first full day of my first cruise ever. I’m still readily confused, though not bumming at this point about the fact of what just happened when she drops another bomb. While we are still lying next to each other face-to face she says it: “You never know. Maybe in the future”……… that’s right people, the same exact break up excuse I used just two months prior on the crazy religious girl was the exact same one that was being used on me at this point. Goddamn am I cool.

Always winning

So while facing her just inches between the two of us she tells me “You never know. Maybe in the future” and the first reaction that comes out of me is laughter straight into her face. This of course, made her a little upset that after giving me that line of shit, that I would laugh at her straight in the face. She then proceeds to get angry as she then asks: “What’s so funny? You don’t believe me?” as I then reply that: “It’s just that… I’ve used that one before.” As I begin to chuckle once again. She is very offended at this point as she asks “And you didn’t mean it when you said it?” to which the answer was obvious when I answered: “Fuck no. No one means it when they say it. It’s a defusing statement to give someone false hope instead of dwelling on the negative. Something you say so someone doesn’t stalk you in the weeks that follow.”

Argument: A reenactment

Needless to mention… she did not like what I had to say and our discussion was short-lived.

To be continued…

Yes, your mental images are correct at this point. I sat through our luxurious, 5-star dinner while looking like I had stolen every item of clothing that I was wearing. And yes… it was delicious.

After dinner and a late night show to see that comedian mentioned earlier (see prior post) we all retired to our rooms to figure out who was going where and doing what and things of the such. By the way, I feel this is a fairly good time to explain that of the 7 of us, 6 of us were couples on the cruise and we slip 3 rooms between everyone. I will give you 17 seconds to guess which room housed the fat, land monster of a third wheel that couldn’t find anyone else to go with… that’s right, she shared the room with me and my girlfriend.

Accurate depiction of fat, land monster chick

So it’s the first night of my first cruise ever, I’m a little drunk and I just spent a lavish dinner looking like a convict. The fat, land monster and Bitch number 2 run up ahead and beat us all back to the room. My girlfriend and I get back to the room to find that they had tried to “set the mood” for us by sprinkling condoms all over the top of our bed. Whatever though, it’s cool, another chance at sexy time… no complaints there. So she is feeling like laying down for a minute while the land monster goes over into the next room with another couple in our group. So I lay down next to her and, thinking of all the condoms in the immediate area, put my arm around her to get some grade-A cuddling in… like a boss.

Her and I continue to cuddle face-to-face, talking as I have my arm around her. Then, she does the unthinkable… she abruptly says to me: “We should break up”. Upon hearing this I immediately pull my arm away from her and ask almost incredulously: “Is that so?” as she then proceeds to explain her case. That’s right ladies and gentlemen… that little bitch dumped me. On the first full day of my first cruise ever… she dumped me. We ended up sleeping the rest of the cruise in the same room, in the same bed even (because let’s face it, I paid for my goddamn share of the room. I wasn’t going to forfeit the goddamn bed). A fun cruise this is turning out to be.

To be continued…

So here we were, the first evening of our cruise. Also the first evening of my first cruise ever in my life no less. Excitement radiated amongst our group as that night we headed to the nightclub that was on the ship. After scanning our cards to get in we settle around the pitiful dance floor with hardly anyone on it. We continued to drink the alcohol and keep it coming as somehow in the haze of my drunkness I end up talking to a lavishly dressed comedian that has performed on HBO. He was on the ship as one of the performers. I remember his face, though his name escapes me now as I recall myself drunkedly asking him if he had any ecstasy or cocaine. He responded with some spot on joke about llamas and mentioned that he had pot back in his hotel room. I then proceeded to act offended that he would suggest that I like the “cheap shit” that he had. Goddamn I wish I remembered his name. I tried to find him online but googling “black commedians” didn’t really narrow it down a whole lot for me. But I digress. There ends up being a little drama and some terrible dancing that happens in the club. Overall the night wasn’t too bad.

I wish Kevin Hart was the one I spoke with… but it wasn’t. So I included a comedian that kind of looked like the one I spoke with… they were both black with facial hair at least.

The next day comes as the ship will be at sea during the waking hours as we make our way to Jamaica. We do trivial things throughout the day like drink, sun bathe, drink, see entertainers, drink, see various other shows, drink, gamble, drink, explore, and drink. Night comes along and we decide to go to our scheduled dinner. And anyone that has been on a cruise ship before will agree… they feed you like a king during dinner with 7-course meals and more forks than you know what to truly do with. The guys on this trip were ready for dinner in about 30 minutes or less… the girls however, were a living nightmare. Now, for this cruise I had recently purchased a set of brand new dress clothes. Tonight I wore my black, pin-striped pants with a matching jacket coupled with a pressed blue dress shirt and my parrot tie… the nice one. Needless to say, I do believe that I was looking pretty sharp.

Now… another thing I will attest to is the fact that when you get a nice outfit, one thing that will help you look sharp in that outfit would be to (after purchasing) have the store clerks remove the big, white, anti-theft ink exploding security tags from your clothes that are tagged visibly on the back. Somehow… I did not do that and for some other reason beyond me I have no idea how I missed it before being on the actual ship. So there I was… a sharp dressed man going to a lavish dinner with the anti-theft tags still pinned onto my clothing… with no way of removing them without the magnetic store devices to detach them. So for the rest of the cruise, anytime I dressed up it appeared as though my clothes were stolen… like a boss. Keeping it classy.

Security tags… like a boss

To be continued…

We landed… eventually. My arms were in tact despite trying feverishly with the sharp edge of a pretzel to cut my wrists. But I digress…

Beautiful Florida… finally there we were, warm, sunny, beautiful, and feeling rich. We soon made it to our hotel room in the Florida heat to recall that once again Florida always has 400% humidity at all times… with mosquitoes, alligators, and the flattest land around. We all soon remembered that Florida is a great visit for those of us that live in colder states, but god have mercy on the people that live there year-round in the hell hole retirement state reserved for people above 60 and the French.

French… the women are beautiful and sexy and the men are ass holes to anyone from the U.S.

So the night goes off fine and we rise the next morning to make it to our port in Miami so we can board the ship of dreams to drink, gamble, and relax to escape the hell hole that be Florida, USA.

We boarded our Celebrity Cruise ship and walked around to explore before our ship left port. We all got started on out drink packages (with the exception of me as I was still 20, which is stupid because we were going to be in international waters and really who gives a shit about a drunk 20yr old outside the legal boundaries of any country? But I digress…) as we walked around carrying our boos. I was eventually privy to the free drinks included with the packages of everyone else in our group as they soon agreed that 1) I easily could have passed for over 21, and 2) Who would honestly care enough to card someone on a cruise ship if you looked even remotely close to 21 by 10 years…

So at about 3ish that afternoon our ship sounded the horns and set sail for the deep blue seas of awesomness. I looked on with starter-level drunk eyes as Miami fell behind us while we were escorted out to sea by a Coast Guard vessel with a big ass machine gun mounted on the front. Everyone within site above the age of 16 was drinking and hollering as we went out to sea… tities and boos were everywhere… this was going to be a good trip…

Party Cruises… It’s funny because they think they are real people.

To be continued…

So there I was… accepting my new role as admiral of the fleet of cruise ships… okay, so I only had a balcony room but can’t a guy dream?

I would like to say that the trip down there to go on the cruise was a fun, coke-fueled timed fill with flare-guns, heroin, excitement and funny fun stuff… I would be wrong though. When the girly and I arrived at the airport we were last among the group to arrive. I was originally content with the fact that our seats were in the middle of the plane. Perfectly fine with my leg room, window, and reclining seat… until they came alone. The other five people were seated in the back near one another. But by god I’ll be dammed if the girls wouldn’t have recommended for us to see if we could switch seats so we would be back by them… it’ll be fun they said… it’ll be so much fun they said… I still hate those goddamn bitches to this day.

The gate of hell… economy.

Of course my type-A nurse girlfriend could not stand the fact that she would be separated from her girlfriends by more than a few rows for a couple of hours on the plane. Naturally, she kindly asks the counter clerk to see if there were any free seats left on the plane. To our joyous luck there were just three… and they were all together in the back right behind the three girls… son of a bitch.

We board the plane and soon find out exactly how far back our seats were. I’m not saying that we were 1950s bus segregation where anything past the middle is considered the back… our seats were in the very back. The girly and I… were in the very last row on the goddamn plane. During takeoff I realize that one of the engines of the plane was directly on the other side of the wall from me as it rattled my fillings and drowned out all of my detailed thoughts of how I could kill myself before landing. There were a few additional things about our seats that made me want to set myself on fire before we even hit cruising altitude. You see, our seats were so far back that we didn’t even have a window… I was left with a wall seat. I didn’t even know wall seats existed on planes. On top of not having a window and an engine placed so close to our seats that I deemed survival minimal at best if there was an explosion of any type in the engine… our seats were also blessed with being placed flatly against the wall to the bathroom… as in they didn’t recline a single inch. I was starting to understand why no one wants the last row on a plane. I was also starting to understand the dynamics of why guns, rope, and gasoline were no longer allowed on commercial planes…

To be continued…