Super Mega Ultra Picture Post (Silver Edition)

Since you`ve gone about two weeks without any delicious ¡photos!, I`ve decided to dedicate this post to nothing but pictures. A LOT of pictures (And a few words about the pictures). In fact, there`ll be so many pictures that you`ll decide to read the Entire Works of Shakespeare, sans graphics.

If you are visually crippled, click the image to enlarge. But then again, if you were visually crippled, or VC as I like to say, you wouldn`t be able to read this print, would you?

Oh yeah, one other thing...the addv3tzr5 R ylling at me coz 2 menee clix have been made...some 1`s clkking lots...i gt n e`mail tllng me thr getting sspcious...plz h0ld off 0n tha clkkeeng 4 uh wiile.......thx

Mi casa es su casa. But only if you bring drinks.
...Three of us live in this newer, bigger (compared to the last) house: Me, Ahmed and Mitchell. Take La Carretera, turn onto Rebsamen, go for about 2 miles, and turn right when you get to Funerales San Francisco, near the Retorno de Psicologia, onto Desiderion Pavon.






This is the sala de espera, or the living room. Pretty exciting, huh? That`s what you get when you rent a house without furnishings.






Here is my room. Clean, right? It`s really more of the size of a rich person`s closet, but it suffices. The benefit: I have a balcony (below)










My view, directly across the street. Look a little to the right....






...Where the neighbors live. They have a donkey, about three dogs, and some chickens. Along with the traffic, they like to make their respective songs in chorus. But I read somewhere that if you are able to concentrate in a lot of noise, you become smarter.






Another view from the balcony, looking to the right.






The cable man installing some cable. Little did he know, a herd of cattle practicing their rain dance was coming down the hill.









Go down the hallway.... (sorry, I couldn`t figure out how to rotate this, so just turn your head)







...To patio 1. See the clotheslines? A spider was hanging from them, doing his own business. Last week, I walked outside, and I bumped into the spider. He was like,

¿Què pasa, bitch? ¿Por què estàs ruiñando mi casa, eh homey? Sufreczan las consequencìas, amigo!

Then, he proceded to bite my neck, which hurt pretty badly. I didn`t know which Spanish cuss word to spit back at the spider, so I just killed him.







From Patio 1, looking to the other neighbors, you see this (above)...and this (below)









Even more neighbors.







Water...use sparingly. And drink with caution. Not because it`s dirty, but because it`s too clean...that is, with too many chemicals.








From Patio 1 you can see Patio 2...which is pretty much useless, except to bring light into the living room. When I was taking these photos, I accidentally locked myself out of the house, and didn`t have my key with me. So I had to climb through Mitchell`s window, which is directly above the red thing in the photo. I was pretty much Spiderman for thirty seconds.




****

It`s time for a little walk up the street....








The neighbors on our left side. They asked me why I kept taking pictures of their house, and I told them that I was a lawyer and that the neighbors on the other side were going to sue because the offenders kept sic`ing their dogs on the others` chickens.







Looking up the hill.







Another angle, looking up.







A chicken who is a member of Al`Qaeda. In respect of secrecy, I promised not to disclose his name, but he promised an attack on KFC more perilous than those on 9.11.







Beetle. Year? 1938. It could just as well be a 2000. Seat belts not included in this Mexican staple.






Barbed wire fences hate you.







Me, bitch`slapping a leaf.







By the time I made it up this hill, I was huffing and puffing, and realizing that I was, indeed, an American.






Looking to the left is Rebsamen, a major road in Xalapa. That is, a major road for exhaust and mud.







Shoutout to Isaac, Nick and Vanessa: Nacho Libre? These things are everywhere. They`re used, especially, to transport water jugs.







Interesting story behind this photo. This dog, like always, was drunk off his arse. For the past week I`ve been telling him: Find a job, find a job. All you do is lay around and torture your liver. You`re not going to get anywhere in life. And, as always, when I was taking this walk, the dog was passed out in front of a house where he did not live. So, I took a bucket of cold water and threw it on him. He started chasing me down the hill, yelling that he`s going to chew up my visa and passport and that I`ll never be able to return to the US. I then told him, If I am unable to return, then I`m going to bother you 24`7 about your alcoholism and your laziness. To that, he told me, Alright, alright, I`ll get a job. But on one condition: I`m going to work in a liquor store.