Broventures in Tulum

Saturday, February 21st, 2014, 1:15 PM

Man, I can’t believe it’s here! I’ve been waiting for this moment, ever since we got the news over Christmas! And after hitting up the gym 5 times a week for the last 2 months, I’m ready. I’m finally doing it, baby, Spring Break! And get this, I’ve already had two Rum and Cokes, and we haven’t even taken off yet! Man, First Class is awesome, mom and dad really hooked it up, and so are my washboard abs! Sorry, I know I shouldn’t brag, but I can’t help it. All those protein shakes were totally worth it!

Oh, they’re doing that safety presentation thing. Damn, the flight attendant looks hot right now… That’s right girl, show me how you inflate that life vest—hold up, she’s coming over, looking right at me. I think she’s checkin’ me out… Let me give her the nod, ok, here we go, “What’s up? How you do— oh, my com—until when? Yea, I can—geez, sorry—uh, yes mam.” Ok, I guess they’re making me put my computer away for a little bit. No worries, I’ll be back. Spring Break Cancun, here I come!

 

Saturday, February 21st, 3:00 PM

Dude, First Class seriously hooks you up fat! A full meal, movies and everything! And the funny thing is, my poor little sister is stuck sitting in coach. Sucks to be her! I can’t wait to brag about how many free drinks I’m getting! Oh, speaking of drinks, hold up… “Oh miss, can I get a… yea, what was that one you gave me earlier, a shardinay or something? Yea perfect!” This old broad keeps coming around and filling my glass with wine whenever it’s empty. I’m not really a fan of the stuff, it doesn’t quite go down smooth like a nice, cold Keystone Light, so I’m just kind of shooting them down as fast as I can. Hey, as long it gets me drunk and it’s free! That’s my motto.

I think we’re staying at this resort, called the Tulum I think. My sister sent me some pictures and the place looks hella rad! Beachside, like 5 or 6 rooms all together, cabana style villa. I can’t imagine the babes I’m gonna be able to bring back and party with. I’ll let mom and dad take the upstairs. They’re old timers anyway, they’ll be in bed by 9. Not me though. I’m gonna party all night and sleep all day.  That’s my motto.

“Oh yea, can I try the rose kind? Yea, the pink stuff, thanks.” Let me down this real quick… whoa, there we go. This wine stuff gets you a little loopy… Where was I? Oh yea, first thing’s first, I’m hitting up the beach and the pool. They’ll be crawling with bikini babes, and babes who like to party. And then shots. Yagerbombs, cherry bombs, vodka Redbull, Tequilla Shots, Jello Shots, Body Shots, Vod— “Oh yea, get me a shot of that red stuff… Cool, thanks.”   I’m going hard, 24/7. YOLO! That’s my motto.

I bet MTV’s gonna be down there too! They always come down for Spring Break, and they have the best rappers, always. I’m talkin’ Pitbull, Mac Miller, Macklemore… those guys get me really pumped! I’ll find out where they’re partying too, it’ll just be like that one movie, Spring Breakers, where those chicks go out to all of those ragers and meet that one du

 

Saturday February 21st, 9:30 PM

Man, I don’t know what happened. I was kicking it with all of these old farts in First Class, pounding wine shots and what not, and the next thing I know, we’re here! Oh well, heheh.

Anyways, we’re taking a shuttle to our first hotel right now, the Courtyard Marriott. The driver looks like a pretty cool guy, like he knows what’s up. “So where’s the best clubs around here? You know, the biggest place to party and stuff? Hello…” Well, apparently the driver isn’t much for conversation. It’s like he can’t hear me or knows what I’m saying. Oh well, at least he’s letting me drink a beer on the way. Man, this is the life, just like those “Find Your Beach” commercials. I can finally relate.

“Hey, what do they take around here? Dollars? Yes, no, anybody?” Whatever, I’ll just give him a dollar or something for driving. They like that kind of stuff.

Well, this is it! Tomorrow’s the start of a full week of partying at the Tulum!

 

Sunday February 22nd, 9:00 AM

Down in the hotel lobby, waiting for my sister and her husband, Derek. I guess they’re gonna drive us to this Tulum place. Man, I’m pumped and ready to go! I can’t wait to get on the beach and— oh, here she comes right now. Does she see me, ok cool, she’s walking towards us, and she’s got a smile on her face… must be glad to see me. Ok, she’s got a really big smile on her face… That’s weird. I know I haven’t seen her in like a year, but it keeps on getting bigger. What the heck?

“What’s up Meathead Rob Lowe,” is the first thing that comes out of her mouth.  I actually don’t know what to say, I… I’m beyond words. I think that’s the nicest thing she’s ever said to me…

 

Sunday February 22nd, 10:30 AM

For some reason, we’re going to Costco right now, who the hell knows why? I didn’t even know they had them down here, but regardless, it seems really unnecessary, for I’m just ready to go down to the pool to start drinkin’. It’s actually starting to kind of piss me off a little bit, but whatever. We’ll do what THEY want to do. While I’m here, I might as well stock up on some supplies.

 

Sunday February 22nd, 10:35 AM

I grab beer, tequila, Red Bull, and Doritos… the basics. All ready to go. Where did my sister’s go?

 

Sunday, February 22nd, 11:15 AM

“Yea, what about it? Because I want it, that’s why—What’s it to you!?” Great, now both my sisters are having a fit over this stuff, I don’t know what the big deal is. It’s not like I’m giving them crap about their wine and cheese and olives and more wine and other crap, let alone the fact that it took them an hour to get like 5 things. God, they won’t stop arguing and telling me to listen, saying there’s not enough room in the car or whatever. It’s not like we needed any of this stuff in the first place? Come on!

And out of all the things, what they’re most pissed off about are the Doritos! Something about not eating authentic Mexican food… I forget exactly what all they were saying, I wasn’t really paying attention, but they keep screaming at me to put them back. We’ve literally been going back and forth for the last 5 minute about the damn Doritos now, and it’s starting to cause a scene. All these people are looking at us like we’re crazy and—Whatever, it’s not even worth it anymore. I’m over it. They win.

 

Sunday, February 22nd, 11:18 AM

I can’t do it. Don’t care. I want it, I like it, screw it, I’m getting the Doritos.

 

Sunday February 22nd, 1:00 PM

Um, why are we driving away from Cancun? The hotel shouldn’t be way the hell out here. I’m trying to ask, but sister keeps on going off about how this rental car place screwed her our of a Jeep Wrangler. I mean, what’s the deal with this Jeep Wrangler anyway, and why does she have to have it?

 

Sunday, February 22nd, 1:10 PM

Seriously, she won’t shut up about the damn Jeep! It’s like her life is completely ruined over the fact that she can’t drive around and look cool. News flash: Who Freaking Cares! You have a car, get over it! My God, if I have to hear about that stupid car one more time, my head’s going to explode! Meanwhile, we’re still going in the wrong direction and the way she keeps on blabbering, we aren’t turning around anytime soon.

 

Sunday February 22nd, 2:00 PM

Well this just sucks. All to my glorious surprise, Tulum isn’t a hotel, it’s a town, nowhere near Cancun. It’s so nice of them to tell me this now. And worst off, the fact that I didn’t know is apparently hilarious to everybody. What a bunch of BS, and frankly, this really pisses me off. So yea, I got her to stop talking about the damn Jeep, but who cares? I just gave them a new thing to talk about. That and that stupid show about Girls.

 

Sunday February 22nd, 3:00 PM

We’re driving through this Tulum place, which isn’t even a town, but a village made out of sticks and straw in the middle of a jungle. And would it kill them to make the roads just a little wider? It’s not like they don’t have the real estate. The last thing we need to do is get in a crash with a smuggled bag of Doritos in the back.

There ain’t much for partying either, and every babe I’ve seen so far has some boner walking along side. I guess it’s better than nothing, but still, I ain’t digging it. Wait, now what’s goin… Ok, so we’ve just passed the town, and we’re starting to drive on this sketchy dirt road. What are we doing?

 

Sunday February 22nd, 3:15 PM

So we’ve been on this long dirt road towards the middle of nowhere, with a bunch of tropical trees on each side. How long do we have to drive till we get to this place? And what’s with all these “topes” anyway, Spanish for either “Bump” or “Pain in the Ass.” They’re everywhere! That’s like 4 in a row now that we’ve bottomed out on. Maybe if my sister wasn’t driving like a madman, then—Uh oh, here we go again… Ok, that’s good, let’s just take this nice and slow. We’ll get over and… Ohhhhh… Well, there goes the bottom of the car, she’s gonna have a good time explaining that one to the rental car place… and there she goes again about the stupid Jeep Wrangler… Great. Just great…

 

Sunday February 22nd, 3:30 PM

Ok we finally make it to our house, and good thing too, because I gotta take a dump. It’s a cool looking place, I’ll admit. Too bad it’s in the middle of Bum F*** Egypt. How am I supposed to pick up any chicks all the way out here?

 

Sunday, February 22nd, 3:35 PM

“So, you’re telling me I don’t put the toilet paper in the toilet, but in the trash? What’s the point? That’s completely disgusting…”

 

Sunday, February 22nd, 3:36 PM

So, their toilets can’t handle TP, and neither can anyplace else around here, at least that’s what the husband and wife who are the caretakers of the place supposedly said, according to my sister. So it looks like we put our used TP in the trash from here on. This is freaking ridiculous.

 

Sunday, February 22nd, 6:00 PM

Mom and dad pull in. They’re all in a good mood, happy to be here. Good for them. My mom asks me if I’m excited. I respond accordingly.

“Yes, I am so excited to be all the away out here, away from everything, with no TV, nobody else around, and nothing to do but spend an entire week with my family. This is going to be SUCH a great vacation…” She smiles gives me a giant hug, and tells me she’s excited too. My dad looks back in pride. From what I gather, neither of them understand the concept of sarcasm. I need a drink. Or two…

 

Monday, February 23rd, 10:00 AM

Time to check out the beach, I mean, as long as it’s right there, and its private, then why not? It looks pretty nice, at least so far, except for these piles of seaweed that are everywhere. Doesn’t bother me though, I’ll just walk through it and—UGGHHAA, God, I think a squid just grabbed my foot or Octopus or… Oh, just the seaweed. No big deal, it’s just so slimy and everything. It threw me off, freaked me out a little bit. I’m good. Really, I am.

 

Monday, February 23rd, 10:02 AM

Ok, lets try again. Everything’s good, and I ain’t a wus. Just start with the ankles… good. And down to the knees… that’s right, now—AHHH forget it. I’m out.

 

Monday, February 23rd, 9:00 PM

Spent the afternoon in town shopping with my mom and sisters, while my dad and Derek went to the grocery store. So, I pretty much did absolutely nothing until dinner. Really, the only awesome thing that happened was there was this topless babe walking on the beach near town, but I was standing there with my mom, so I had to pretend I didn’t see her. In fact, except for a quick glance, I didn’t see her! Just my luck.

I did grab some more Tequila though, we’re just about out back at the house. I needed it, too, especially now. That Costco stuff went quick

I know I shouldn’t, but it’s been a long day, and that waiter took his sweet time with the bill too. I’m just gonna take a quick little swig—DAMNIT! Freaking Topes! Tequila everywhere! I swear to God, Topes piss me off!

 

Monday, February 23rd, 9:07 PM

Ughz. You know, this dirt road is kind of creepy at night, with all the jungle trees and all. It feels like some guerillas are all hanging out on the sides, watching us drive by. And any second now, some cartel guy is going to pop out of nowhere and take us all out. How much you want to bet that after we get around this corner there’s going to—

JESUS CHRIST! Holy Mary… My God. Sweet Jesus. Holy Crap. What in God’s name!…

 

Monday, February23rd, 9:08 PM

Yea, so we almost died. Head on collision. Barely missed it. That bastard was out of control. I’ve never heard so many dirty words come out of my family’s mouth at once. Good thing I got all that… Never mind, tequila’s all over the floor.

This sucks.

 

Tuesday, February 24th, 9:00 AM

Since there’s no gym here, I might as well run on the beach to keep my tone, just in case. Also, I need to clear my mind. Mom and dad were all worked up about me spilling liquor all over the car. Something about drinking and driving in Mexico can get you in trouble. It was an accident for Christ sakes, big deal? I wasn’t even driving, and they probably do that stuff all the time around here!

 

Tuesday, February 24th, 9:15 AM

Dude, running in the sand sucks. I just keep sinking, unless I run on the buttloads of dried seaweed all over the place. What’s with all this seaweed anyways? Out of all the places, all the world’s seaweed just happens to show up right here, on the exact day we decide to come.

Oh, there’s another house on the beach. I wonder if there’s any other babes around? Ah, doesn’t look like it, at least not right now. I’ll check it out later.

 

Tuesday, February 24th, 9:30 AM

So as it turns out, right after I passed that house, this rabid dog started chasing after me. The little turd wouldn’t stop either, followed me for like a half mile, I nearly passed the hell out I ran so hard in the sand. Pissin’ me off. I can’t get back now, unless I run passed that thing, which I don’t really want to deal with right now. It probably has rabies or something dumb like that. The road can’t be too far away, maybe I’ll just cut through a little jungle here.

 

Tuesday, February 24th, 9:40 AM

It’s just been one giant mistake after another now hasn’t it? The road’s way farther out than it should be, leaving me stuck in the middle of the jungle. I swear some critter is going to jump out and attack me. Every time I step on a dry leaf it’s like they’re rustlin’ around, plottin’ and schemin’ on the low. Or it’ll be something stupid, like stepping on a big old snake or having a spider bite me. Or what if I happen to stumble upon a drug ring camp out in the forest here? How the hell do I explain myself out of that one?

That stupid ass dog. I’m about ready to turn back and whoop it’s ass.

 

Tuesday, February 24th, 7:00 PM

Good news, I made it out of the jungle alive, and I didn’t have to beat up any dogs. Bad news, my mom insists we stay in tonight and play this stupid game called “The Settlers of Catan,” and I’m almost all out of booze. I’ve played it before with them, and I know exactly what’s going to happen. I’m going to win, and everybody’s going to get all butthurt about the whole thing and start crying. It literally happens every time we play.

The thing is, it wouldn’t be such a bad game if everybody didn’t have to spend 5 minutes on their turn figuring out what they were going to do. It’s like “Gee, maybe you could’ve thought about that when the person before you was taking 5 minutes?”

 

Tuesday, February 24th, 7:05 PM

Just found out that this is Derek’s first time ever playing. Awesome. He’s gonna take his sweet time because he doesn’t know what he’s doing, and then he’s going to do something stupid and screw me out of winning, I just know it.

 

Tuesday, February 24th, 8:15 PM

Guess what. Derek just built a road that leads to nowhere right in front of me, and pretty much just screwed me out of winning. I’m honestly on the verge of losing my crap right now.

 

Tuesday, February 24th, 8:45 PM

Oh, my God. This game is taking FOR-E-VER!!!

 

Tuesday, February 24th, 9:00 PM

Game’s over, and now I have to deal with my little sister parading around like she’s the Queen of Catan. Yea, congratulations, you won your first game. You had a newbie screw everybody except you, and then you happen to have all your settlements on 4’s, which got rolled like 5 times in a row. Yea, you should be really proud of that, and the way you’re acting too. What a waste of two hours, and a giant load of BS. This game pisses me off. And I barely got anything for dinner tonight too. At least I still have my… what the. Ah Hell no— “WHO THE HELL ATE ALL MY DORITIOS?!?!”

 

Wednesday, February 25th, 11:00 PM

Nobody ever ponied up to eating my Doritos, surprise surprise. Anyway, today was kind of boring. We went to these ancient ruins, which was just a cluster of tourists running around aimlessly. The place wasn’t even that cool, but they managed to squeeze 5 bucks out of me, and everybody else who went there. And then there was this girl who was trying to do handstands and get her picture taken by the ruins, except she didn’t know how to do a handstand, so she just kept trying over and over again, right in front of everybody. It was freaking ridiculous! She was like 20 years old too, which I didn’t know people still did handstands at that age, unless they’re kind of kinky, which I don’t think she was, because she didn’t know how to do a handstand. But yea, everybody’s trying to be all nice and polite not to get in her way, and its taking like 10 minutes, so finally they—wait, what the hell is that over—

“OH F*** THAT!!!”

 

Wednesday, February 25th, 11:02 PM

A giant ass rat just walked into my room. I swear to God if there’s one thing I hate, it’s rats. Looks like I just woke everybody up too. My sister’s are running in freaking out, and now my parent’s, and, hold up… “No, it’s ok mom. Yes, it’s gone now… a rat. I said a rat. No, not a cat, a rat. A big ol’ rat… Yes mom, I’m fine… Yes, I’m sure it was a rat… It was really big… Don’t worry—ok I’ll shut all the doors before I go to bed…”

 

Wednesday, February 25th, 11:04 PM

I can’t believe I dropped the F bomb in front of my mom… I’m a horrible person…

 

Thursday, February 26th, 2:00 AM

So as it turns out, it wasn’t a rat, it was this thing called a lemur according to my little sister, who probably ate half of my Doritos, and still won’t confess, but that’s beside the point. That bastard was huge! And now everybody’s all freaked out, so they shut and locked all the doors, which sucks, because I gotta take a whiz now, and I can’t get to the bathroom without knocking on the door and waking everybody up. “Well, why is the bathroom door locked, and why can’t you get in?” you ask. Well, it’s because the villa we’re staying at is weird, and I don’t want to explain it cause it’ll take too long, so it is what it is, ok! Long story short, I’m taking a whiz on the beach.

 

Thursday, February 26th, 2:03 AM

Wow, I never noticed how well you can see the stars from out here. It’s actually quite spectacular. There are so many of them, 10’s of 1000’s. Maybe even millions! I can pretty much see any constellation out here. Look, there’s the big dipper right there! Oh, and over there, that has to be… Well, um…

 

Thursday February 26th, 2:05 AM

Gee, as it turns out, that’s the only constellation I know, heheh. Whatever, the stars aren’t even that cool. I’m done peeing anyways.

 

Thursday, February 26th, 5:00 PM

So, today we’re supposed to have this giant fish dinner that the caretakers made for us, and we’re all going to eat it together and it’s supposed to be really good. Heck, I even got a glimpse of the fish, and even I approve. This thing’s a pretty big deal to them. They even brought their daughter over too, and while she might be a nice girl, well, um… let’s just say, she’s not really my type to put it nicely.

 

Thursday, February 26th, 7:00 PM

I’m chowin’ down on this fish. Man, this thing is good. It’s got onions, and peppers, and hot sauce… I’m really going to town!

My older sister’s talking to these people in Spanish, and my mom’s talking to them in English like they understand everything single word she’s saying. They’re all laughing and stuff, and all I’m doing is eating. These are some big old fish!

 

Thursday, February 26th, 7:10 PM

Now they’re all pointing at me, and keep saying my name. My sister keeps on saying “ci.” It means yes, I know that, I’m not an idiot for God sakes. And they keep using this word, “matrimonio.” I don’t know what that means, matrimonio. But anyway, my sister just keeps on saying “ci” and the dad keeps laughing and has this big old smile on his face. They’re looking at me now like they’re questioning me. What did I do? All I’m doing is eating some freaking fish and now suddenly I’m the “Bell of the Ball!” And why does this girl keep staring at me? She won’t stop, and she keeps smiling. This is freaking me out man. “Yea, whatever, ci ci.” I just want to eat the fish.

 

Thursday, February 26th, 7:11 PM

Now what? They’re all screaming, hooting and hollering, getting all happy. The dad, the wife, they’re all just ecstatic all of a sudden. Was it something I said? Oh great, this girl’s staring even harder at me. And smiling…

I don’t like this at all.

 

Thursday, February 26th, 8:00 PM

I ate a whole entire fish. I’m done. I’m never eating… ever, again.

 

Thursday, February 26th, 8:10 PM

The caretakers are leaving for the night, but the dad gives me this big hug and says something like “Mi familia.” Yea, familiar with what? I never found out, he just hugged me again and then left. And their daughter waved one of those creepy finger rolling waves on her way out too. I’m just glad that’s all over. What a weird night. Man, I’m stuffed.

 

Friday, February 27th, 1:30 AM

Oh my God. I can’t believe it happen. This is awful.  It was inevitable. Montezuma’s Revenge has finally struck. Ugh, I feel like Hell.  It was the damn fish. It had to be. Oh God. Just a… Ahhh help me Jesus, it hurts so bad. I can’t stop.  It just keeps… UGHZ.  I woke my sister’s up too. I had to. No. Other. Choice. Door was locked. I had to go. Why is this happening?  Oh, I hate lemurs so much right now.  And fish, and—oh no, here it goes!  No…

 

Friday, February 27th, 2:30 AM

Not again!!!

 

Friday, February 27th, 3:00 AM

This is bad. This is so bad. It’s even worse than I’d imagined. Worse than Ben Woodward and the Toilet Bowl Massacre… No, nothing’s worse than that. But this is still bad. Wait… Yea, never mind, this is way worse…

 

Friday, February 27th, 3:45 AM

I have literally destroyed the toilet. As in, this thing is no longer recognizable, every square inch of it. I can’t even describe the abomination that was created. I am honestly disgusted at myself, and my body. It’s a travesty to the human race. It’s so disgusting and ugly, I’m not even proud of it. It’s horrific.  God, I think this could even be illegal, and all I can do is sit in shame over this monstrosity, and pray for forgiveness. God help me. God forgive me…

 

Friday, February 27th 4:00 AM

Please God let this be it. This is the worst. I really hope I can pinch it off and just sleep now, cause I don’t know how much more I can take. Oh, you got to be kidding me. What’s wrong with the toilet now? It’s not even flushing. Why won’t it… the toilet paper… I didn’t put it in the trash like they… Oh, F my life…

 

Friday, February 27th 1:00 PM

Well, I’m pretty much out of commission for the rest of the day. The rest of them went to a nearby beach, one without seaweed. Whoop de freaking do. It was nice of them to ditch me like this. I’d never do such a thing, but that’s just me.

So I decided to do a little reading, an activity that’s light on the stomach. They have a couple books here to read, even this one from this dude, Ernest Hemmingway. I’ve heard a couple of the smart and nerdy babes in class talk about how he’s so romantic and stuff. You know, the one’s that act all smart because they know literature and everything. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to get acquainted with my old friend Ernest, and his book, “The Sun Also Rises.” Besides, there’s something about a girl in smart looking glasses that kind of turns me on…

 

Friday, February 27th, 1:10 PM

Screw that, this book sucks, just a bunch of drunken A-holes. It ain’t even worth it. What a pile of garbage. What a waste of my freaking time…

 

Saturday, February 28th, 10:00 AM

It’s our last day in Tulum. If anything, I might as well run to this bridge we pass on the way to town and take a picture of the ocean from there. Those types of pics get at least 15 or 20 likes on Instagram every time, guaranteed, half of which are from babes, and probably a couple extra since it’s in a foreign country. It’s totally worth it. I figure this, I can get some exercise, get a picture, and maybe meet some more babes while I’m over there too. Kill two birds with one stone, that’s my motto.

 

Saturday, February 28th, 10:30 AM

Oh, what in the hell? Yea, I’m at the bridge. I’m also stuck in a damn monsoon. Right when I got here, it came down, right out of nowhere, Forest Gump, Vietnam style. It’s like I’m that EPA butthole on Ghostbusters when they blow up the Marshmallow Man and all that white goop dumps all over him. I know exactly how he feels. So much for that Instagram pic, and my phone. And here’s to a 2 more miles of running in the pounding rain.

I said it once, and I’ll say it again. F. My. Life!!! That’s my motto.

 

Saturday, February 28th, 11:00 AM

Yea, go ahead and keep laughing, you heartless souls. I’m so glad my siblings think all of my suffering’s hilarious. Maybe I should stick them outside for an hour and see how they like it…

 

Saturday, February 28th, 7:00 PM

Well, it’s done raining, and it’s our last night in Tulum and we’re at dinner. Everybody is kind of in a bummer mood. I for one am glad we’re leaving tomorrow, because frankly, I’ve had enough of this place for one week. And now everybody’s bummer mood is kind of putting me in a bummer mood.

 

Saturday, February 28th, 7:05 PM

The waiter comes by, kind of a weird dude, taking our orders telling us about all the nice stuff they have. “Just get me the steak, and a couple beers, and some shots.” I’m getting tanked tonight. I don’t even care anymore.

 

Saturday, February 28th, 8:00 PM

I had hella beers and shots, and ate a steak, and I’m not even drunk. Well, whatever, I’ll be home tomorrow anyway, so who cares. I’ll get drunk then.

 

Saturday, February 28th, 8:03 PM

Well here comes the waiter again. Great, now what does he want?

“Thank you very, very much. Say, I have question. Do you play American Futball?”

“Who me? Well what do you mean, I have before and all…”

“Like, uh, what you say, profesonale?

“Oh Pro Football, in the NFL. No, but thank you, that’s awfully nice of you to say so…”

“Oh man. You look like profesonale. You look like one man, very handsome. Throws American Futball.”

“Um, you mean the quarterback?”

“Ah yes, quarter back. What his name? Roger, I think. Wears color of green. Play by water. What you call it, Bay?”

“You mean Aaron Rodgers?”

“Ahh yes, Aaron Rodger. My favorite. Fantastic at Futball. You remind me of Aaron Rodger.”

“Well, uh, gee, I don’t know what to… thank you… I mean, I can see where there’s a connection, but… just, wow, that’s just… wow!”

 

Saturday, February 28th, 8:05 PM

I am literally at a loss of words right now, as in I don’t know what to say. That was one of the nicest things anybody’s ever said to me… Oh my God. Dude, I… I think I’m gonna cry…

 

Saturday, February 28h, 8:10 PM

Say what you want about the Mexicans, but they sure are an honest bunch of people. Nice people too. I don’t think I’ve ever been treated with as much respect as I have here. What a great little town. Truly heaven on Earth…

 

Sunday, March 1st, 7:00 AM

Well, on our way to the airport now, and just went over our last Topes, at least for a while anyway. They’re really not so bad, once you get used to them. My sister may disagree, she’s still yelling over them and the Jeep Wrangler, but I can’t be too hard on her. I just don’t think she has the same sense of culture as I do.

And you know, Tulum isn’t such a bad place if you think about it. Sure it’s not for everybody, but that’s ok. I guess it just takes a certain person to like this type of stuff. A type of person who’s cultured, willing to try new things, somebody who has a sophisticated sense of appreciation for the world. Somebody like me…

I don’t how keen my family is about coming back, but that’s ok. I just don’t think they were able to connect to the people like I did, that waiter last night being the perfect example.  Man Aaron Rodgers…  I just can’t believe it.  I still feel like a million bucks!

Maybe someday, they’ll learn to appreciate the finer things and people of the world, like me. Hell, I feel like this whole experience has changed my life! I don’t know exactly what happened either. Last night, well, that was just amazing…

Oh well, until next time. They can enjoy places like Cancun. You know where you can find me.

-Grizzly Chadams

So I Wrote a Screenplay…

So I wrote a screenplay…

 

It’s late Friday night inside the house of an upper-class neighborhood. Two teenage lovers lock lips in the daughter’s bedroom, deviously decorated with religious paraphernalia, a variety of stuffed animals, and colorful crafts to conceal her true sinister behavior. Journey’s “Faithfully” is playing through a cassette player, adding to the sensual ambience. The year is 1984.

 

Foolishly, the parents of this juvenile deviant booked out of town for the weekend, leaving behind their young royalty to finish her “research paper;” only this pretty princess has other plans in mind. “Let me slip into something a little more comfortable,” she hints at her hunk opposite to her on the bed. They’ve decided it’s time to take their relationship to the next level.

 

The hunk strolls down the hallway, fist-pumping all the way to the bathroom. He has been waiting for this moment his whole life. The fact that precious jewelry, family heirlooms, and various knick-knacks in the bathroom have gone missing doesn’t even faze this testosterily charged adolescent. His mind is totally oblivious to everything except his immediate future spent with his first and only love. A giant smile spreads ear to ear across his face as he opens the toilet lid, unbuttons his pants, and hums his favorite love song, all in preparation to take a leak.

 

He looks down, releases a ghastly shriek of terror, and steps back in shock. He shakes with an uncontrollable tremble; the sight is just too much for him to bear. It is one of the most disgusting things he has ever seen in his entire life– a large mound of bio-hazardous madness piled high inside the bowl.

 

“Babe, what’s wrong,” the girl asks with mounting concern as she bursts into the bathroom.

 

“You’re sick. You’re SICK!” the boy repeats. He is absolutely livid. “How could anybody make something that atrocious!?”

 

He storms out of the bathroom and down the stairs, brushing his princess out of the way. She follows him like a pathetic puppy. Outside, the engine of a red Camaro ignites, and with a couple of revs, it speeds away undetected from the crime scene.

 

The boy stomps towards the door and clasps the door handle before his girlfriend grabs onto his other arm. She gives him one final plea.

 

“We’re done. We are DONE,” screams the boy, as the door swings open.

 

“No babe, wait! I love you!” It’s no use. The door slams in her face and the young lover is left by herself in humiliation with nothing but the remains of an all-natural brownie mix in her stall and the hook of her favorite journey song echoing through the house. The turd burglar has struck again…

 

That’s the very first scene of a screenplay I wrote, entitled “Turd Burglars.” If you’re a sane person reading this, you’re reaction should be something along the lines of, “What in the Hell?” And I can totally understand, being it’s only the first scene in a movie that only expands in its offensive nature. I used to wonder how in the world I came up the idea for a movie centered around a “turd burglar.” Looking back however, I realized that there’s a history behind this brainchild, and even a logical explanation of how I formed this story inside my head and put it onto paper. Maybe after reading this, you may have a slight understanding of how I came up with the concept, and eventually believe, “Hey, he might actually be onto something really funny.”

 

But anyway, let’s get on with the story. It all started during your typical Sunday in the city of Seattle…

 

It was one of the hottest weekends in Western Washington during the summer of 2008. I had recently started my new profession as an engineer making gobs of money, so needless to say, things were going very well. After what some might call an excess of partying, there I lay on my good friend Ben Woodward’s futon, profusely sweating from the 85% humidity mixed with the 95-degree temperature in the air (which is very hot for Seattle since nobody has air-conditioning. Anywhere). It was early… too early, but there was no way I could gain another minute of sleep in that smoldering hot box of Ben’s crusty apartment, at least not in the type of pain I was in.

 

I rose to a hunched position, trying to reclaim the memories of the night prior. I was surrounded by Rainer beer cans, some empty, some completely full, and a mix of others in the in-between status. There was a putrid smell of garbage reeking from the overflowing trashcan with fruit flies swarming, mixed with rotten food particles clinging to the stacks of dirty dishes and mold crawling from plate to plate. Bags from Dick’s Drive-In cluttered the living room, reminding me that we had made the pilgrimage to Seattle’s premiere burger joint the night before… Now it was starting to come back to me. Maybe that was the reason why I had this terrible feeling arising in my stomach, and I’m sure my surroundings were aiding to that uneasiness inside me to come out. Not puke all over the place, but something a little subtler, a bit more normal, at least to some.

 

I rose from the futon, leaving a large puddle of sweat behind to be permanently stained into the cushions to forever remind us of this weekend. There were two paths I could go. One was the community bathroom that easily exceeded the grotesque conditions of the rest of the apartment. The other was a more dangerous route through Ben’s room where he spent his time slumbering away, unaware of the massive heat wave beating down upon us. It was a safe haven of sorts, a luxurious escape compared to the cradle of filth of which I was entrapped inside, even if it were only for a mere half-hour. The trek would be well worth the risk.

 

I snuck passed the corner of Ben’s living room that had been tainted by a black fungal like substance that perfectly contrasted his white carpet, probably an unknown offshoot of some type of growing bacteria that would have Scientist perplexed for years of its origin. But there he was, sound asleep like a little baby. This was too easy. I strutted through with a bit of cockiness to my step and slid into the bathroom. No one was the wiser.

 

The bathroom served as a solar deathtrap, further intensifying the blistering heat wave that we’d been cursed with that weekend. It was an action I wasn’t looking forward to to say the least, but it had to be done nonetheless. I sat down with sweat pouring from every pore in my body and proceeded with the dirty deed.

 

It was an absolute disaster, 20 minutes of extreme agony before I could finally rise covered in a blanket of sweat and gaze upon the vile creation pultruding above the waterline. I reached for the lever to dispose of my product that left me in total disgust, for no man should ever set eyes on what was inside that toilet; the consequences would be absolutely devastating. But then, an evil thought slipped into my mind. I stood over the bowl and contemplated my decision, except there was nothing to contemplate. I already knew what I was going to do the moment the thought popped into my head. I lifted my hand from the lever that had not yet been depressed, and shut the bathroom window. Before leaving, I casually flipped the heat lamp on and crept back through his bedroom and into the living room without his knowledge. Boy was he in for a surprise.

 

A good amount of time passed before Ben woke. He’s a heavy sleeper, he really is. So much time, that I nearly forgot about the incident and was reacquainted with an old friend called sleep. That is, until a blood-curdling scream from Ben’s room blasted my eardrums, followed by the sounds of picture frames falling and a large mass crashing into a desk, letting its contents spill onto the floor.

 

He burst into the living room, bug-eyed in his undies with sweat dripping from his dimple-imprinted forehead. “What the hell was that!?” he exclaimed, violently trembling in his socks. I sat there and tried to act surprised, but all that was delivered was a grin ever growing into a bigger and bigger smile. He wanted to kill me, I could see it in his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Who could blame him? The man was absolutely petrified! The only thing he could do was slowly slide down into a fetal position, where he lay in a comatose state, letting his natural instincts of surrender take over.

 

Since then, my relationship with Ben Woodward has always had a bit of uneasiness to it, as if he never fully recovered from that incident. And unbeknownst to me, that day marked the beginning of a journey, one that led me to begin my amateur career as a screenwriter. Unfortunately, it also marked the beginning of an ongoing battle that lasted years.

 

It started out as harmless fun, as all these things do. Ben would sneak his way into my bathroom to leave a nice surprise for me, and a couple days later, I would return the favor, finding a creative way to out-do his last. The human race has a natural drive for competition, and the stakes rose to unbelievable heights with each prank we pulled. As the battle ensued, we each grew wiser, sniffing out the evidence and destroying it before it could be seen, or finding other means to outsmart the other, making each successful stunt more satisfying than the one before it.

 

But after awhile, our game had reached dangerous levels of competition. There was only so much our bodies would allow us to handle naturally before we began taking drastic measures in order to achieve the upper hand. Houses and apartments were broken into to deliver the goods, cleaners and other “supplements” were taken to produce cloggers, and eventually, the game ventured outside the bounds of the bathroom. This was no longer a game of friendly contest; this was all out war.

 

It reached a tipping point one night where emotions ran high after a round of jabs, until ultimately, and tragically, punches were thrown. Mike Gibson separated us, offering us a world of hurt if we didn’t stop our antics. We both wisely obeyed, for Mike is a certified ass kicker of all mischiviants. I think that night we both realized that we’d finally crossed the line, and it just simply wasn’t worth it to continue on. So we formed an unofficial truce and stopped the madness before it destroyed our friendship and our bodies any further.

 

Those events seemed to stick with me however, and from time to time, whenever I sat down to provide my body with natural relief, I thought about the days when Ben and I would devise schemes to force distraught upon each other, and the other times I’ve felt the same by entering a random public stall. Such examples are when you open a door to find the scene of a grenade explosion, with debris plastered everywhere, or when the world’s supply of toilet paper just wasn’t enough for that certain individual who previously occupied the stall (which actually happened today at work believe it or not). Usually in those cases, the perpetrator didn’t understand the concept of flushing whatsoever.

 

One thing I’ve tried to understand is why somebody would leave something like that for a random person to see, unless they’re just a sick person. In that case, there are a lot of unstable people out there, some of which work for the federal government, which is even a scarier thought. I do know with males however that no matter the age, dropping a giant bomb is considered a major achievement in our twisted little minds. Get a couple of us going, and you could spend a whole night reliving the history of our most decorated creations. If it’s a great accomplishment, pictures can taken and shared with friends, which is okay being it’s a trustworthy group of brethren and you’re not sharing your business with everyone in the world, most of who wouldn’t want to see in the first place. But on rare occasions, where the creator leaves a masterpiece, it’s totally acceptable to leave the work of art on display.

 

“Hey you guys, come check this out,” I remember one of the students on my floor shouting down the hall of the dorms during my freshman year of college as we leisurely converged our way to the bathroom.

 

“Whoa,” one of the kids said as a dozen of us gathered around the stall, mouths agape, marveling at the monster in the middle. We were in total amazement at the size of the object, so much that we left that stall untouched for a week. I think even the janitor didn’t even bother walking in and flushing, for he too was quite impressed.

 

It sounds like repulsive talk, but ask any honest man, and he’ll tell you about the biggest torpedo he’s ever fired, or the most astonishing direct explosion his ever encountered. It’s one of those topics that are very taboo to talk about, but once it’s brought up, we pour our hearts out, eagerly waiting to tell our own tales of combat.

 

One day while working in DC, I was in the bathroom having one of those moments of reflection, when a man entered a stall two down from me. I could tell by the way he walked in and groaned that there was a mess already scattered about. He must have been very eager to get on with business, for he wasted no time sitting down after he depressed the flush lever.

 

“What the-“ he exclaimed as he shot up off the john and water began to overflow and fall onto the tiled flooring. He grunted and stormed out of the bathroom, an action I couldn’t blame him for (but at least he could’ve washed his hands afterwards in my humble opinion). The water slowly seeped into my stall, sending me into a panic to finish my deed and jump off the pot myself.

 

While scrambling to get my things together and return to work before the flood of water outlined the reach of my shoes, a revelation came to me. How many times has this happened to people just like me, not this exact incident perhaps, but occasions where people enter a bathroom only to be blown away by what lied in front of them? It happens all the time I concluded, and it’s a situation people can really relate too.

 

My mind started flowing rapidly with stories throughout my life that I had experienced or heard where something wild and outrageous happened during a trip to the bathroom. There were so many, most of which people wouldn’t dare talk about in the public sphere, but deep down in the darkest parts of their sick little minds, would secretly love to hear.

 

Some nights later, I picked up a book on how to write screenplays. I was on to something, something really good. I breezed through the book, picking up on the storytelling techniques and screen writing formats as if they were second nature. I was ready. I opened up my computer, and began writing, and didn’t stop.

 

The words were placed on the paper draft as if they were diarrhea; they just didn’t stop flowing! The more I wrote, the more the storyline and characters seemed to develop clearer inside my head. There was no guarantee that people would like it, and even a lower probability that it would ever be made into a movie, but as long as the ideas kept pouring out of my brain, it was my duty to put them to paper and release my vision to the world, and now after over two years of writing, editing, and rewriting several times, I eventually produced a product ready to send out to the masses.

 

The story centers around two police officers, one, a rookie cop named Jones who is full of potential, but still has a lot to learn about the force. The other, Jackson, a washed up loser, was once the premiere detective of the local police squad before tragedy struck him and his family. Now he’s been given a second chance to put his life back together and mentor his young apprentice. Through their pursuit of a vicious cat burglar terrorizing the neighborhood, the two work and grow together, forming an unforgettable bond to catch this relentless villain, who leaves behind no evidence except for a single calling card; a giant mess at the bottom of the toilet for his victims to discover, leaving them overcome with fright and quivering in fear.

 

As these cases increase in their frequency, the public’s concern grows, to the point where people contemplate even entering their own bathroom, and parent’s worry that their child’s next bathroom visit could be there last, as the horror of such a monstrous scene would haunt them for the rest of their short lives. Jackson and Jones must do everything they can to catch the perpetrator before it’s too late and the town is left in a giant heap of waste, getting themselves into a couple sticky situations along the way, some of which nearly cost them their jobs, and their lives.

 

All the while, Jackson must prevent his protégé, Jones, who is eerily following in the same footsteps of his shaky past, from self-destruction; one that the turd burglar, whom we eventually find to have a close connection with Jackson, is all too eager to see through.

 

Apart from a fanfare of dirty tricks, silly jokes, and outlandish situations that the two heroes find themselves constantly tangled in, “Turd Burglars” in the end is a story of good vs. evil, friendship, and learning how to cope with the demons that hold us back and prevent us from moving on. Set in the 1980’s suburban dreamscape, “Turd Burglars” places normal people looking for their shot at the American Dream up against an out of this world villain for an epic showdown you’ll have to see to believe…

 

So if you’re interested in reading my story, or even getting a large group together and doing a screen reading, I’d love to share it and get your thoughts on what you think of it or how it could possibly be better. Even with such an unconventional subject matter that’ll leave the purest of hearts shying away, it’s something I’m actually really proud of and that I think people would really enjoy. I mean, how many people do you know that can say they’ve wrote a screenplay? It actually takes a lot of work coming up with a complete, full-length story. But now, it’s finally complete, and hey, maybe if enough people show interest, we can make a movie! That would be a dream come true.

 

But until that day comes, let me know if you’re interested, and I can send you a copy, and if we get enough people involved, we can turn this dream into a reality. Let’s make this happen!

Enjoy!

 

Grizzly Chadams