STRAIGHT FROM THE MUT

For our honeymoon, we went to Costa Rica.  We managed to use miles and fly first class. But you know what?  At least for the Chicago-Atlanta leg of our trip, first class blows.  The guy on the plane came over and asked if he could get us anything, so we tried to go into highbrow mode and enjoy first class.  I felt like I was Cal Hockly from Titanic.  “We’ll both have the lamb, medium rare with mint jelly.”  The guy looked at me blinking, and said “Uh, you can have a bag of Ruffles or a Granola Bar”.  Bullshit.

Once we got to there, I at least tried to immerse myself in the culture and speak the language, I kept trying to ask waiters and such if they spoke English, but instead of saying “Habl-A Ingles?”, I kept saying “Habl-O Ingles”, which means “I speak English”.  I mean, is it that big a deal, a little grammar? Although most people completely knew what I was trying to ask, one waiter just looked at me, and, IN PERFECT ENGLISH, said, “Hey man. Good for you”.  Assholo.

For domestic flights, the airports don’t have x-ray machines, so they just have security guard go through your stuff.  So the guy is going through my backpack, and he finds a Ziploc bag of Cottonelle flushable wipes (for those uninformed, thy are wet wipes for your butt).  This guy had NO idea what they were.  He is looking at he bag, and actually started SNIFFING my asswipes.  I was just pointing at my ass, saying “por mi tushie”.

Don’t ask how, but I put on 11 lbs in only 12 days.  I feel like Morgan Sperlock.  My honeymoon pictures look like a before and after ad for Jenny Craig, but backwards.  The ultimate insult came on the last day.  We were checking in for a short domestic flight on a 12 seat puddle jumper.  The guy weighed our luggage, as they are pretty strict about how much weight these little planes can go up with.  And then the fucker looked me up and down and made ME get on the little baggage scale.  I just stood on the thing in front of everyone dumbfounded that I had gotten so fat, they actually had to factor in my weight to figure out if the plane would not crash.  I think that is rock bottom in the life of a fat person, or at best one step up from having to buy 2 seats.

We stayed at this one place right in the rain forest.  Each room was basically just a big screened in bungalow.  When we got into out room, we could hear the people in the next hut over talking.  I thought, this sucks, there are no walls so everyone could hear each other.  And what did we hear next?  The people going at it!  At 1 in the afternoon. It was pretty cool at first, as all we heard was the girl screaming at the top of her lungs.  It was like a porn soundtrack.  But all good things had to end.  They switched things up, and we had to listen to some dudes voice going “Oh yeaaaaah” and “Oh oh ohhh”.  I was ready to punch out my eardrums with an awl.  Of course, we spent the next day trying to figure out who it was.  Every couple we passed, we said, “That’s GOT to be them.”  But we just couldn’t tell.  At first, we tried to talk to people to see if we could figure out their voices, but eventually, I just started kicking people in the shins to see if their moans sounded familiar.

Randi hates bugs.  Unfortunately, when you are visiting the rain forest, you get some bugs in your room.  Every time we came back to the room, Randi had me on a mission to kill anything flying around.  One night, we came back drunk, and it was me vs. this huge- ass horse fly.  It was like Rocky vs. Drago. I kept trying to swat him, and the fucker kept flying away.  After like 20 minutes with this little flying Hitler, I just stood there, out of breath.  Randi is looking at me, and she just starts cracking up.  The fly was sitting on the back of my shoulder.  Now he was just taunting me.  I can’t even get respect from a friggin’ FLY.  OK, maybe you had to be there.

An interesting thing about Costa Rica is that many of their cars are actually imported used cars from the United States.  So if you were wondering where all the 10 year old Geo Metros are in this word, its San Jose.  Also, they are obsessed with 80’s music down there.  I must have heard Duran Duran at least 9 times.  The whole thing is like being in a time warp back to early 90’s.   I told Randi, “Hey if we’re going back in time, I may be cool again”, but she just  looked at me and said, “Honey. No.”

At the end of our white water rafting trip, we ended up in this tiny poor village.  All these little kids ran up to us and wear trying to get everyone on the trip to give them stuff.  Hats, necklaces, even shoes.  I didn’t have anything I could really give away, but as I was walking away, some kid ran up to me and pointed at my Straight From the Mut bracelet, and said “Give me please. Give me please”.  So I did.  And he put it on proudly.  Last I heard, there is now an entire village in Costa Rica wanting to go to a Then Again show, and asking about OGR’s nads.  Oh, and JMut isn’t allowed near any of their women.

Really, the only bad thing about being married is that I am not sure I can get away with talking about Randi on here as much.  I’m pretty sure her future divorce attorney will use it against me.  At least I now know Costa Rican banks are good for hiding assets.

You actually can’t imagine how much a wedding costs.  I’m still trying to figure out how to pay off this month’s credit card bill. If I don’t figure out a way to scare up some dough, I’m not going to rule out giving blowjobs in the subway Leonardo DiCaprio Basketball Diaries style. It’s that bad.

One of my friends told me he forgot to get a gift and asked where were we registered.  Duh.  CITIBANK!

Did any one catch Entourage Sunday night??  Maybe one of the best scenes ever.  E got a threesome from two smokin’ chicks.  I’m watching with Randi, and they were all talking about it, and before I could say a word, she turned around and said to me “Not gonna happen.”  I want a divorce.