Alright, checking in.

I’m in my last month here in Spain… as a teacher.  11 days of school left.

Then when June comes around, I’m gonna travel around the country, visit some people, have some sex, tell people I’m having sex when I’m not having sex, go to some concerts, etc.

Speaking of concerts, I’m seeing my boy Claptone tomorrow in Marbella (part of Malaga).  This will be my 8th time seeing him.  Clearly I’m a huge fan.  I would say his most ardent, adoring fan, without it being a terminal illness.  OK, maybe it’s an illness.  What can I say?  House music does special things to me.

The concert correlates with the end of my self-imposed one-week-long sobriety, so I’m going to have to do it big.  How big?  Well let’s just say, I have a person in my life who has been incessantly bugging me to try “candy flipping,” and this person left me all of the goods to do so when he visited me in Granada recently.  To candy flip, one combines two drugs, which seemingly would not mesh well together in any capacity.  Those drugs are LSD and MDMA.  The last time I took LSD was at a rooftop party in Medellin, and as I was expecting, it totally ruined the party for me.  Psychedelics and social settings with strangers—don’t do it, kids!

But then again, I’ve seen some people take acid at parties and they come outta their turtle shells and are like little effervescent butterflies.  For me and my personality, acid shuts me down socially.  I think acid causes you to flip personalities, to show you a side of yourself that you are not.  I’m pretty social, so it turns me into a total introvert.  But then again, there’s the MDMA which supposedly balances that out, counters it and shit, so I don’t know.  We’ll see how it goes tomorrow.

Now, let’s talk about some sex.  As the weather in Granada has heated up, so has my sex life.  Some one night stands with Spanish girls, which fine, whatever.  I think one girl banged me to prove me wrong, just because I said that “people in this city don’t have sex.”  And I meant it.  In a city filled with 70,000 university students and teachers (one-third of the city), people don’t seem to be banging and blowing each other, at ALL.  It’s a weird phenomenon.  At first I thought it was just me and my hideous face, but after some light investigation, I realize that it’s THEM—the Spanish.  Another girl I met (and banged) told me that the Spanish guys don’t even LOOK at her when they pass by her on the street.  She’s not a bad looking girl, either. 

I need to tell you about this girl.  This is an eerie, uncanny situation.  This girl is fucking crazy.  And I don’t mean that in a negative, critical way.  I mean it like she’s crazy in all the same ways I am.  She fucks relentlessly, she is a rampant hedonist as I am, and her stories are fucking bananas.  This girl has found herself on an FBI watchlist… twice!  Does that attract me to her even more?  I mean, I think so?  But I’ve never met a girl who could out-crazy me while not being contained in a straightjacket.  So, with some trepidation, I will continue to engage this fine young lunatic and hopefully it doesn’t land me on an FBI watchlist, too.

Last comment: before I moved out here, there were at least 10 of you fools that were practically frothing at the mouth for your chance to visit me in Spain.  Well guess what?  Only two people have actually visited.  And one lives here in Spain, so I’m not counting her.  What is it with flaky people?  Why do people talk so much shit and break their word so easily?  It’s really appalling and shameful, and I think people should hold themselves to a higher standard.  If you aren’t going to even TRY, then DON’T SAY YOU WILL!  Easy!  

Alright that’s my time.  As the great Bill Burr says : thanks, and go fuck yourselves.