Let me just start off by saying that cruises are fucking insane. The people on cruises are fucking insane. Jamaica is insane.
Brades and I spent the first day on the boat drinking ourselves into submission. Not gonna lie, blackout drunk happened. Surprise. Somehow, though, we made it back to the cabin.
The beginning of the next day the unthinkable happened. "Pass the Dutchie" by Musical Youth played on repeat for what seemed like an eternity. Listening to any "music" other than said song doesn't even make sense anymore. All sense is slowly going the way of the buffalo. Listening to this song the way we listen to it is driving me crazy. Binge drinking for the past 3 days is taking it's toll on my mind and body.
Shots, beer, more beer, another shot, another beer, cigar, martinis, white russians, dirty bananas, "fun ships", shots, beer, dance club, professional baseball, beer, stand up comedians, what the fuck, moving like bernie, old people who are into Rick Springfield and not Black Metal, more beer, pizza, talking about Rick Springfield, Black Metal, and politics to Rick Springfield fans until eight in the morning. Arriving to Jamaica. WHAT... THE... FUCK... Pass the dutchie pon the left hand side. How does it feel when you've got no food? Dr. Peter Venkman.
Everyone in Jamaica tries to make money by pestering the fuck out of you. "Yes, I would like to smoke weed with your dreads." "Thank you, Jamaican man, for the free bracelet that says 'IRIE'." "One of the "highest" murder rates in the world, you say."
The food was pretty good.
I swam in the ocean for the first time in my life. The water is salty. The beach was sandy. Just like everyone says.
The food was pretty good.
I feel like dog shit.
Did I mention the food?
No luck on finding a Jamaican record store, nor on smoking the dope.
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