So the Betting Is Over

Sorry for no posts in a while.

First, I got a horrible bug from something or another last Sunday.

Our choices:
1. Don Julio Tequila, more than 6 beers, and at least 2 random shots sent from the bar to our rowdy table @ El Bar Español
2. Un hamburgesa y 3 more beers and yet another round sent to a NEW group at a NEW table @ Champion
3. 2 beers (hey, I had to work in the morning) with yet ANOTHER group @ Random Cantina Whose Name I Will Never Remember
4. 1 rum and coke @ Seedy Gay Bar That I Somehow Ended Up At With "Oswaldo" y "Francisco"

Anyone who doesn't bet #4 should be shot.


Our second round of betting, when would Bradley first avoid being kidnapped/mugged.

Anyone who bet today, wins!

Except, it was scary as fuck. Think of two men about the size, consistency, and demeanor of Carlos Zambrano following you for about 8 blocks as you zigzag away from your apartment to avoid letting them know where you live.

Yea, that happened. I finally, like 8 or nine blocks of random turns got in a taxi at a light that was just about to change and got in, handed him 50 pesos and said:
"Conduce. No me importa a donde. CONDUCE"

Which in my limited Spanish would translate to:
"Holy shit, drive, I don't fucking care where we go, DRIVE"

About 9 or 10 blocks later (I asked him to take a couple random turns too) I got out and meandered my way back home.

Let's just say...it was scary as shit. Who knows if those guys were just playing around or if by some twisted joke of fate actually had to follow that route, or if more likely they just saw a decent target, in any case, when the BIG MOOSE x2 is following you around a city known for kidnapping Americans, it's not really worth finding out.

Or for that matter, looking to the police for help.

Happy 4th

I'm going to go drink a beer. Cause that was one crazy fucking day.