Monday, January 17, 2011
☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀☀
So, you ready?
It's finally time to continue with my vacation tales. Try to restrain yourself from screaming out in unbridled joy.
As you all know and if you don't, you can read about it right here, we were super fantastic imbeciles and didn't notice our passports had expired until we were at the San Francisco airport, about to set foot out of our country and into a land of lawlessness, forced cocaine condom smuggling and of course, diarrhea.
We quickly rebounded, since while visiting San Francisco, not only can you buy live turtles for your dining pleasure in Chinatown, it is also one of the only places in the country where you can get a passport renewal in a day's time. We were lucky folks, indeed, turtles and instant passports. It doesn't get much better than that.
We quickly rebounded, since while visiting San Francisco, not only can you buy live turtles for your dining pleasure in Chinatown, it is also one of the only places in the country where you can get a passport renewal in a day's time. We were lucky folks, indeed, turtles and instant passports. It doesn't get much better than that.
But we should have realized our passport debacle was just a forewarning, a caution sign of things to come.
We renewed our passports and left the next day for Cabo, ready for some festive fun and a little maraca shaking.
As soon as we arrived and walked off our plane, onto the broiling tarmac and into the broiling airport, we were met by those crazy fun custom folks and the frowning policia with their huge guns who stood over the inspectors as they examined our papers.
I tried smiling at the guys swathed in weaponry, which usually reduces every man to butter. And no, I'm not saying I think I'm all Pussycat Doll Hot and can turn the world on with my smile. I'm saying, smiling is the secret weapon of all women. A woman's smile can undo the best of men. If you're of the female persuasion, try it. Find some serious, frowning dude and just give him your best sly smile. Watch what happens.
But these policia with their scary weapons didn't budge. Not even the slightest curl of the lip. Nothing. It kind of shook me, honestly.
So, after we were sufficiently questioned and rendered eligible to enter the lawlessness of Mexico, we collected our luggage and passed through their weird screening. This involves pressing a button where you either get a red light or a green light. If you're green lighted, you can go on your way. If you get the red light, I'm pretty sure the overhead announcement says in Spanish, "If you get a red light, well then, you are just plain screwed, amigo. Body cavity searches and Mexican jails await you, my friend."
I held my breath as I pressed the button, knowing my Mexican jail days were just a red light away. When the green light came on, I almost started jumping up and down and clapping furiously like I'd just won the Price Is Right showcase— you know, the one with the car and the exotic trip, not the one with the LazyBoy recliner and the popcorn machine—because seriously? Anyway, the frowning Uzi policia kept me from my happy dance.
And just when I had wiped my brow in relief and strolled through my green light, a pretty little customs official called out to me, "Senorita, this way?"
And I thought— Crap. Here we go. Now is when they find the heroin I'm sure someone planted in my suitcase when I turned my head for that split second to harshly scowl at the stupid chick in jeggings and a half top and the way too small Justin Timberlake hat.
Seriously. Who puts on their worst outfit, looks in the mirror and thinks, "Alright! I've got my American Girl Doll pork pie hat perched on my hair follicles. I'm emphasizing my crotch AND my dimpled ass by pairing my half top with my jeggings. I am now officially super hot. Let's go to Mexico!"
Seriously. Who puts on their worst outfit, looks in the mirror and thinks, "Alright! I've got my American Girl Doll pork pie hat perched on my hair follicles. I'm emphasizing my crotch AND my dimpled ass by pairing my half top with my jeggings. I am now officially super hot. Let's go to Mexico!"
I just knew that when I was expressing my critical judgment of her horrifying look through my scowling evil eye, some nefarious drug dealer slipped a couple of ziplocs of heroin in my suitcase.
Because that's just the way it goes with me. Bad fashion and heroin always slip me up.
Because that's just the way it goes with me. Bad fashion and heroin always slip me up.
And so I went over to that lovely guard with a heavy heart. But she rifled through my things very daintily and then smiled and said, "Welcome to Mexico."
I was so glad to leave those Uzis and frowning potential body cavity searchers and of course, dimpled ass Pork Pie. I hope they imprisoned her for her bad taste. The world would be a better place for all of us.
We followed the crowd into the next room. It looked like a super official place with big counters everywhere and men sitting behind these counters looking suspiciously like police/drug dealers. The place was too bright and full of chaos and there was this swarm of men with badges standing all around. And as I walked through this imposing room, a man with a badge approached me and grabbed my arm and demanded, "Senorita, where are you staying?"
And I thought to myself— F**ck! This is like one big nightmarish Traffic remake!
I immediately got nervous, like I really did have heroin in my suitcase that no one had discovered yet and so the name of the place I was staying, immediately flew out of my head.
I stammered like the idiot I am, "I uh, I don't know the name, but it's a Spanish name. And I'm staying in Mexico, you know, your country here, in a place with a Spanish name. That's all I know. And I'm allergic to latex, so I really wouldn't be very helpful to you."
And the man with the badge I could not read since it was all in Spanish said, "You must come with me."
I was about to start sobbing like a baby who has heroin in her suitcase, but I swallowed my tears and instead I squeaked, "Can I get my husband?"
And the dude was all, "No. You must come with me."
It was at this point, my foreign prison survivor skills kicked in. I figured if I was being kidnapped by the police and forced to carry cocaine in uncomfortable orifices, I was going to go down fighting. I yelled to my Hubby who was several feet in front of me, clearly caring less that I was about to be hauled off to be stuffed like a Thanksgiving turkey with a few hundred kilos of powder wrapped in Trojans.
When my hubby turned around and saw me, now surrounded by three men with indecipherable badges who were all telling me I had to go with them, he yelled, "Come on, Joann. Stop playing around. Let's go."
Because, that's how I like to play around.
I oftentimes grab strange men and say, "Hey guys, let's play a prank on my husband. You pretend you're about to drag me off and imprison me or kidnap me and I'll act scared."
I managed to squeak out, "I have to go with them because I don't know where I'm staying. I think it's against the law not to know where you're staying here, but will you come with me? You have all my makeup in your suitcase."
Yeah, I know. I'm so good on my feet in possible abduction situations.
Now here's where I stop the story to tell you about my hubby.
He's a rule breaker. He doesn't like being told what to do. He's never worked in a job where he had to answer to someone, mainly because I don't think he could handle it.
Here's an example: When we go to a concert or somewhere where you have to pay to park and the guys with the flashing sticks direct you to a spot, he never goes where those dudes tell him to go. He'll see a better spot a few rows up and just breeze right past them as they stand there frantically waving their glow stick and getting all riled up because he didn't follow the glow stick and all of us females are in the car shrieking for him to stop.
He doesn't stop. He doesn't ever follow the glow stick. He enters if the sign says no trespassing. He always screws around on his computer a few minutes more after the flight attendant announces it's time to turn off all electronic equipment. It drives me crazy. His rule breaking.
Okay, so back to my story. After my hubby accused me of joking around as I stood there encircled by men with badges, he strode back up to me, took the man's hand off of my arm, grabbed my hand and said, "Come on, Joann. Let's go."
And I was all, "OH MY FREAKIN' WORD! Now you've done it, for real! We're off to a dark hole where a chair with leather straps and a bald, scarred man with probes and electrodes is waiting for us, you damn rule breaker!"
I then said to my hubby or rather squeaked, "We can't leave. I have to go with him because I don't know where I'm stayyyying."
The last part being a sob.
And my rule breaking hubby said as he pulled on my hand, "No, you're coming with me."
I closed my eyes and gasped as he pulled me away. I braced for the shower of bullets that were about to pierce my back.
I trotted alongside my hubby and hissed, "Great! We haven't been here ten minutes and we're already going to jail! You can't be a rule breaker when it comes to the Policia."
He said, "Joann, those aren't police. Those are timeshare salesman."
And I was all, "Um, what?"
And that's when he said, "Didn't I tell you about that? I thought I told you about that."
This is a recurring theme in our marriage. I'm thinking of having it printed on a t-shirt.
He constantly "forgets" to tell me incredibly crucial things like, "Oh, by the way, we're going to get accosted at the airport by super aggressive timeshare salesman parading as authorities who will intimidate you into buying some timeshare."
I let him lead me out of the bright room, still totally confused as the calls of, "Senorita" grew fainter and fainter.
We went outside where another mob of Mexicans stood. This though, looked more like an American airport scene with crowds of dudes all standing around holding placards with people's names on them.
Except these guys were out in the sweltering sun, sweating.
Why they weren't allowed to stand inside the airport and why the intimidating time share dudes were allowed to try to con you, before you got to the real people, is just a giant mystery to me.
Maybe Mexico is so corrupt, the con artists and thugs get priority over everyone else. I'm not sure. But at least I'm grateful that I'm here to tell my cautionary tale instead of holed up in some timeshare conference room somewhere, bound and gagged, and only being fed cold coffee, as the timeshare thugs stand over me saying, "As soon as you sign on the dotted line and fork over your deposit, you will be the proud owner of a lifetime of one annual fun-filled week in Cabo and we will let you be on your way, Senorita."
My sister was already outside, standing next to our shuttle driver. Still flustered, I was all, "The timeshare guys, they tried to abduct me."
And my sister said, "You didn't know about that? I sent the email to your hubby and told him to share it with you."
And I was like, "Well, guess what. He didn't."
And my sister who is always ultra prepared in every situation, and obviously prepared for timeshare abduction situations whipped out this little gem out of her briefcase and said, "Yeah, here's the warning."
It would have been nice to know this. You know, Beforehand.
And I apologize for the blurriness. My Hubby thought he was doing me a favor when he bought me a fancy new scanner, but the thing is I'd just figured out how to use the old one and now anytime I ask him to help me with the new scanner, he always happens to be "busy". Once I figure it out, I will no longer make you dizzy with the blur.
So anyhow, we stood outside for quite some time, waiting for everyone on the shuttle list. The last to arrive were two women who came out of the timeshare room, what seemed like hours later. I recognized their frazzled nerves and the fear in their eyes. "The timeshare guys wouldn't let us go."
And I apologize for the blurriness. My Hubby thought he was doing me a favor when he bought me a fancy new scanner, but the thing is I'd just figured out how to use the old one and now anytime I ask him to help me with the new scanner, he always happens to be "busy". Once I figure it out, I will no longer make you dizzy with the blur.
So anyhow, we stood outside for quite some time, waiting for everyone on the shuttle list. The last to arrive were two women who came out of the timeshare room, what seemed like hours later. I recognized their frazzled nerves and the fear in their eyes. "The timeshare guys wouldn't let us go."
I was all, "I guess you didn't get the warning, either. But we made it through the timeshare storm and that's all that matters now."
And so I took a deep breath, patted those frightened ladies on the back in victim commiseration and trotted off with our shuttle driver, safe and ready to find the fun.
Little did I know, that the downward spiral had just begun. The gong was clanging even louder, but I was oblivious as I entered the bowels of Mexico.
Oh yeah, did I forget to mention, we were staying in a timeshare?
Stay tuned for tales of Mexico that will curl your hair. Well, they might not curl your hair because I've never seen anyone's hair actually curl after hearing a story, no matter how shocking, but I will guarantee there is one crucial detail involving hair. Get ready, fasten your seat belts and enjoy the ride of ridiculousness that circumscribes my foolish life.
Today's Definite Download: Bruce Springsteen's, "Badlands".
I'm sure some of you young uns have no idea what a force of nature, The Boss really is. His concerts are 3-hour evangelical revivals of pure, powerhouse rock n roll. I have been to a lot of concerts in my life and no one, no one puts their heart and soul into it, like the Boss. Even as he rolls on into his 60's, the man doesn't stop. Which I guess totally explains this body.
But here's, Bruce singing "Badlands" live, right here.
Because I made it back from the Badlands. I am a bad ass. A bad ass who escaped the clutches of the timeshare salesman.
Oh and by the way, ladies, check out my second comment down there. It's one of the best spams I've ever gotten, so I had to publish it. I hope you get as much of a kick out of it as I did. And by the way, don't bother with the site. It's nothing, just spam, so don't give it any hits.
I'm sure some of you young uns have no idea what a force of nature, The Boss really is. His concerts are 3-hour evangelical revivals of pure, powerhouse rock n roll. I have been to a lot of concerts in my life and no one, no one puts their heart and soul into it, like the Boss. Even as he rolls on into his 60's, the man doesn't stop. Which I guess totally explains this body.
But here's, Bruce singing "Badlands" live, right here.
Because I made it back from the Badlands. I am a bad ass. A bad ass who escaped the clutches of the timeshare salesman.
Oh and by the way, ladies, check out my second comment down there. It's one of the best spams I've ever gotten, so I had to publish it. I hope you get as much of a kick out of it as I did. And by the way, don't bother with the site. It's nothing, just spam, so don't give it any hits.
Labels:
hair,
mean people,
mortifying moments,
my stable of fears,
The Hubby,
vacation
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61 comments:
Ah, the memories...
On our first trip to Mexico, my now-husband and I paid $75 (and a timeshare visit) for a couple of day trips. We were supposed to come back to the booth in a half hour or so to get our ride to the time share place, so we started walking around the town. Within minutes, the salesman drove up to us in a taxi and was all, "Get in, get in! We'll show you around."
Jeff and I just looked at each other. Do we get in? Is this man trying to kidnap us? (Bad luck to him if he was...we had/have nooo money) We got in, and our taxi tour of Puerto Vallarta was definitely less enjoyable due to the fact that we weren't entirely sure that we weren't being kidnapped until they let us out at a hotel.
I have a couple good time share stories...I think you may have just inspired a new blog post. I hope that you're of the opinion that imitation is a sincere form of flattery, and I'm looking forward to hearing about the rest of the trip!
That same spam was on my blog this morning and on many of the blogs I visited. I deleted it. You are brave to travel to Mexico with all the craziness that has been happening there!
Why didn't you like my boycotting comment? I was just letting you know. Being the fat married American woman and all that I am.
I CANNOT believe those timeshare salesmen!!! I want to add a million more exclamation marks to that so you would get how amazed I am about it. Cannot!!!! Believe!!!!!!! Goodness gracious me.
First. Your husband and my husband...exactly alike! The time I have screamed at him to follow the glowstick guys instructions. He has talked his way into theme parks. He does not believe that the rules apply to him.
That is so weird about the timeshare guys.
The spam comment...hilarious!
I'm hoping that you figure out the secret to the hair curling story. It would save me a lot of time at the salon!
I think the timeshare salesmen might have heard about your blog and left you that spam.
My husband is the same way about breaking the rules. He drives me crazy. He stays in the left lane while I am frantically instructing him, "you know our exit is the next one, right?" and he waits until the. very. last. minute to whiz through three lanes of traffic to exit. Argh. And the glowstickf guys - same. exact. thing. Plus he NEVER tells me stuff and always thinks he did. So I sympathize, I really do.
I would have been freaked out by the timeshare creeps too!
Now I know why I have never been to Mexico! I would of been carried off crying and sobbing! Hope the rest of your trip gets better! Traci
You were abducted by timeshare salesman? BUAHAHAHAHAHA! Honest-to-gawd, your life is just WAY better than anyone else I know!!!!
omg. that was freaking hilarious. And thanks for warning me that I should never, ever, be bullied by the time share guys. yikes.
I can't wait for more of your vacation tales.
My vacation to Mexico last March involved throwing up tequila-scented yogurt out of a cab at noon on the cobblestone streets of Puerto Vallarta. What happens to us blondes in May-hee-co?
Even your spam is hilarious... how do you coordinate that? :)
Frickin' hilarious! Time share, bah! Didn't it used to be the Hare Krishnas we tried to avoid at the airports? Can't wait to hear more.
I only got some Texas land spam on my blog. Yours was much better.
I love the spam!!! In all of my trips to Mexico I have never been stopped by the red light. While I was living there something expired...some important paper that would get me out of mexico when it was time to leave. My smile to the big scarey gun toting officer got me a new paper...without a fine. I am a BIG believer of the smile!
Awesome. I can not wait for my hair to curl. I've missed you and your cliffhanging ways.
OMG OMG OMG.
OMG.
I am so glad that you went to Mexico. There is no way that someone could even DRAG me there... and your blog is just one more reason I could point to if, you know, someone actually tried to.
And I love the spam comment... what a dork.
O.M.G. I cannot believe you thought timeshare peeps were the police.
That is so damn funny.
they must be fabulous actors!!!
you are hilarious. :)
No American Women!! No American Women!!
Oh, wait, I just got all caught up in that spam.
1. You just reminded me that my passport is about to expire.
2. If you make that "Didn't I tell you?" tee shirt, I want one. It's a running theme in this house, too. We've also both been known to emphatically say, "I told you that. I know I did. YOU forgot." But odds are, the teller never told the tellee. Madness, I tell you.
3. The Boss. His delicious behind graces the wall of our office - my Born in the USA album - yep, vinyl - is framed there.
Wow that dude sounds like a gem.
This story makes me glad that I never had to deal with timeshare dudes on my trips to Mexico. But it does make me excited for the rest of the stories. I'm glad you didn't get duped by the dudes. That would have been bad.
"Badlands, you gotta live 'em every day, let the broken heart stand that's the price you gotta pay."
Always one of the best songs at his shows.
Just when I thought I couldn't love you more, you drop the Boss on me.
Happy sighs.
Also, WTF? I have never been to Mexico, though I can see if from my window since it's about two hours away... Anyway, I'm not in any hurry to go there after this!
that truly is fantastic spam. almost as good as your story :)
Don't cha just want to punch those time share peeps in the throat. They are always so sneaky. They mustgo to some sort of Chuck Norris ninja school to learn to be everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.
You make me laugh like nobody else. This line alone:
"Because that's just the way it goes with me. Bad fashion and heroin always slip me up."
I have a time share story. We sat through the entire presentation one time because we were promised a free gift card to a restaurant called Busters. We sat. My husband glowered.
I started dreaming of my globe-trotting life, imagining myself on white sand beaches.
The guy found out we were college students and made less than 20,000 a year collectively.
He sneered---the time share guy sneered at us---and said, "It's so uncool that you wasted my time."
WE wasted HIS time. My husband snatched the free dinner.
I was too sad to eat, because I was not on a time share white sand beach in Bora Bora.
Talk about dodging a bullet.
I love your travel stories! And the timeshare one was good! I have had similar experiences. Why do our men do us that way?
Stayed in a timeshare once where the people before left stuff in the fridge. Oh, did I mention 3 months before? Yeah.
This was so funny! The writing, of course. Yet another reason why, every time we consider going to Mexico, we end up in Hawaii!!
-Ally
The only way anyone's vacation stories are interesting, is if they're filtered through Joann Mannix.
And, I'd ask you to marry me, but I'm boycotting American women.
Something those timesharers should do.
I always think your last post is your best post, but then you put up another one, so, yeah, it's just one ugly cycle like that.
You are the best.
The.Best.
No kidding.
You and your husband are perfectly matched. He "compensates" for areas in which you lack. :)
I LOVE that you were reduced to tears and fears of bullets from timeshare reps.
Those dudes suck. Me and my husband are the opposite. He's a nice guy and easily pursuaded so I have to muzzle him and chain him to my luggage when we go to Mexico.
I get the biggest kick out of hearing about people's travel in Mexico. Such a corrupt country.
I am a little torn as to what I want to say here. So I will just tell you that I lived in Mexico. Twice as a matter of fact. And it is my favorite place on earth.
The whole red light/green light thing is at every entry point into the country, and one time I was driving from Texas back into Mexico and I had my Chrysler minivan loaded down with crap like you wouldn't believe! And that was the one time I got the damn red light. It was summer and it was hotter than hell. The customs dude looked at the red light. Then he looked at my loaded down van and all the stuff he would have to unload and said "Push it again". Ha!
Oh my word...you get much more interesting spam than I do...I am envious.
Love your post...you really should come to Africa....my word you would have a field day...what with our lions,snakes and President Zuma!!!
The spam comment totally made your post even more hilarious.
Okay, a funny time share story. My BIL went to an 8 hour time share seminar because he was promised a real Chevy Blazer if he sat through the whole thing. He did. And in return, he received a size XXXL sport coat with the word "Chevy" on it. They weren't lying. It was a Chevy Blazer.
But at least he didn't boycott American Womens.
you always crack me up! how does one lead such an entertaining life? :)
OK, I'm on the edge of my seat here! I truly hope the trip had some redeeming qualities to it. The good part is we know you are back on American soil so you can't have gone to prison, right?
I love the part how we are unchaste women. That's right, Miss Unchaste here!
Hmmm. Sounds surprisingly like my trip to Cancun, with timeshare salesmen, and tour quides. Ours were extremely friendly and polite--I thought they were going to invite us home to taste their mama's tamales. Rod did drag me out to the curb before they could extend that invitation, though.
The first time I went to Mexico was with my wasband and two daughters.
As we were waiting in the security line leaving Mexico a scowley-faced security dude pointed at all of us and shuffled us off.
He shuffled us off through the line! I do believe we looked like the perfect Leave It To Beaver family he'd ever seen.
So no one had to paw through my dirty dainties and messy as hell suitcase. Awesome!
Have been to Mexico three times but haven't had any problems, but looks like you had enough for both of us!
Funny stuff!
Pearl
Now I feel bad for forgetting to warn you about the timeshare people. I never stop and talk to anyone. I breeze by and don't respond or make eye contact. Even the hooker delivery people in Vegas let me pass.
I always get the red light and since seeing Brokedown Palace, I have been terrified someone would slip drugs in my bag and I'd end up in a scary Tibetan prison with no food wallowing in mud. For the rest of my life.
Had the same thing happen to me on my honeymoon...that is why I don't like to travel outside the good ol' U.S. of A. Enough to see here...
That spam...now what was wrong with it?
You had me already with the Pork Pie Hat and the exposed torso etc...
But then you had to go and be arrested by Timeshare Goons?
Because you didn't know where you were staaaayyyyiiinnng?
Oh I so want to go to Mexico with you.
(Not your husband, though. He can't come. I'm a rule follower and I'd get hives if he tried to drag me away from figures of authority. Even if they were only PRETEND figures of authority. In fact, I kind of need a nap now just thinking about it...)
Aw man, that's the best spam comment I've seen yet. I'm kinda jealous that I only get spam comments in poor English - I can hardly understand them enough to make fun of them.
Anyway, I can't wait to read more! As someone who's never been out of the country, I find this fascinating.
Sorry I have been so long in visiting. I have been busy trying to get a man but apparently no one wants an American woman anymore....
This story reminded me of a timeshare episode! I would write it up but it would pale in comparison to yours!
OMG Joann, I have to THANK YOU for one of the sexiest encounters of my life! Your posts make the universe a better place.
So I have to apologize for being MIA these past 2 or 3 months. After 2 yrs of unemployment, I've been busier than I've ever been. So no time for reading my favorite blogs.
Anyway, tonight I'm at an event (I'm an event planner), bored off my rocker while the attendees are all socializing and having fun. YAWN. So I'm in a corner reading your post & the delightful Boycott American Women email. This ADORABLE Aussie comes up to me and asks what I'm reading, I tell him all about it and he starts dictating a defensive reply email about how American women are awesome and it turns sexy and I just couldn't hit "post" but this guy is TO.DIE.FOR. Nothing happened -- I can't cross that professional line, but I have YOU to thank for a much needed flirty boost!! Love ya, doll!!
Heres the email that dreamy thunder from down under composed for me, thought you'd get a kick out of it:
Hi all I'm with this Aussie who saw Oprah in front of the sydney opera house. It's a great story! He loves American women. He says nothing is sexier than the Statue of liberty. He'd prefer her in a bikini. My boy Aussie thinks the bloke who posted that original email shakes hands with the unemployed when he has a shower or as we say here had a date with rosy. Isn't he adorable and the reason we should go for foreign men. He thinks we should all cum down under if you catch my drift.
My goodness, what an adventure. I want to be funny like you. But I'm not.
And I would be afraid to go to Mexico.
Tiffaney,
I have no way of responding to you, and I just want to say that I LOVE the fact that I somehow aided you in having a hot encounter with an Australian cutie. That has got to be one of the best things my blog has ever done.
Returning your visit from So Mo - I'm the "One of Those Days" blogger. A few thoughts:
-I'm thinking that perhaps you *could* turn the world on with your smile. That's a REAL purdy picher of you up there. Don't sell yourself short, lady.
-Heroin and bad fashion. Yes. They will be the death of me as well.
-Are you sure that we shouldn't all boycott American women? I really wanted to click that thang. But I didn't.
I hate to admit this but I have not one but three time shares in Mexico. They were giving away free drinks, what can I say?
How come the Boycott American Women guy never comes to my blog? I see him everywhere and yet he doesn't go to my blog. I know I should be happy he hasn't made his way there but honestly I feel a little left out.
I laughed the whole time I read this. I hope you had an awesome time.
I had THE WORST CASE OF THE TROTS EVER EVER EVER in Mexico but I still am not going to boycott American women.
American Girl Doll pork pie hat...see now I want one just because you've made it forever famous in your post! Way to go Joann! I was saving up for an American Girl Doll pork pie bra!
First of all, I cracked up over that sign you have up top. Second of all, wow! Your hubs is a real ... no other word comes to mind except "ball breaker" and I mean that in the best possible way, especially when you're being abducted by time share people.
omg sooo sooo sooo funny that they turned out to be timeshare dudes, you must have been freaking out! I almost died there when I thought your hubster was just going to ignore the Polcia and haul you out of there! so funny, can't wait to hear the rest!
I have a blog award to pass along and you immediately came to mind! :) Fee free to pick it up at http://thatangelsmaydelight.blogspot.com/2011/01/versatile-blogger-award.html if you want to participate :)
Oh, you are hilarious!
And I had no idea that Bruce Springsteen still looked that good.
Damn.
LOL... the second comment is seriously the best laugh I have had in a while!! Love your blog and will be adding you blog button to my blog roll!! Looking forward to your post!!! Came over from Mom Vs. the Boys.
~Melissa
http://www.mnmrheinlander.blogspot.com
http://www.twitter.com/MSRheinlander
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Keeping-Up-With-The-Rheinlanders/142498255802871
I am on the edge of my couch over here! Also I think Ms. Jeggings is totally smart, who in their right mind would ever think someone with a camel toe is smuggling herion filled condoms, you'd see it right. Ms. Jeggings has outsmarted us all.
Hi stopping by from Kludgymom! Sounds like you had a great experience! I would have been a mess if that was me. I can not believe The Boss is in his 60s... he. looks. amazing! I grew up listening to him and I have to agree that his concerts are the best!
My ex husband loved time-share salesmen. Sought them out, even, just to see what free stuff he could collect. I got so tired of having to listen to presentations during my vacations.
I'm glad to not be married to him any more.
Further evidence of why I will never go to Mexico. I would crap myself and die of a heart attack if that happened to me. I do not want to die with poop in my pants.
Whew! I'm glad you were able to escape from the agressive time share terrorists. That would have without a doubt turned into a hostage situation!
You need a reality show. Seriously. How have they missed you?
Dear God, I think cavity searches and heroin filled condoms are much less scary sounding than Mexican timeshare salesmen! And by far the best line in this whole thing ... You have all my makeup in your suitcase. Because that is the most important thing!!!
You know why I love you? Because when you're about to be dragged off and thrown into the bowels of some terrifying dungeon by the banditos, you beg your husband to come with you -- because all of your makeup is in his suitcase!! Are you feeling the love right now? Also, my husband is also a wicked rule breaker. He even ignores the "one way" signs and arrows in parking garages and backs up the exit ramp IN REVERSE (while I'm screaming in terror and the parking attendant is yelling at him from her little booth) to snag the parking spot closest to the exit instead of driving all the way through the parking garage like you're supposed to do, you know, to avoid colliding with other cars.
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