Make Mexico great again
an annual celebration held on May 5 to celebrate Mexico’s victory over the Second French Empire at the Battle of Puebla in 1862. Nobody cares about it much up here in the North East, but out in California it’s a reasonably big deal, given that there are a lot of Mexicans and former Mexicans who live there. I don’t know why I’m talking about this other than as an intro to today’s journal and for no other reason. I “may” have a burrito later, I “may” not. Yesterday I was talking about my trip down the Florida Keys and how it went. I forgot to mention one other thing about the Rogue shitwagon I rented.
This is normal for most cars, but useless in a Nissan Rogue
Most modern cars have usb ports to charge phones etc, and this was no exception, but why, why on earth did they decide to install USB “C” inlets instead of the regular USB ones that are at the end of every fucking cable that plugs into a phone? In order to charge your phone or play music in the Rogue shitwagon you need a double ended USB C plug. I went to the Dollar shop to see if I could buy one so I could play my music off my phone.
Oh, they sell them alright, but they’re $20 and they are for iPhones. Nissan have decided that Apple faggotry is more important than having a universally accepted phone charging inlet that everyone can use. Let that sink in.
The coffee was good
That’s enough about that, but that was one of the more annoying things about that SUV, of which there were many. I hated it so much that I had to come back today to specifically talk about it.
Florida was very hot as I said yesterday, and down at Key West a lot of people make a pilgrimage to Ernest Hemingway’s house to get a feel of where the great man lived from 1931 until 1940. It’s a Spanish Colonial home on Whitehead Street and it’s now occupied by about 60 weird cats with six toes. Imagine the smell.
During this specific nine-year period, Hemingway wrote major works such as For Whom the Bell Tolls, To Have and Have Not, and The Snows of Kilimanjaro, so it’s a huge Hemingway whistle stop. The place stinks so much of cat’s piss that they have taken to placing fans outside in the grounds to blow the stench away. The neighbors must love it.
The great man’s chaise lounge
I don’t think I’ve read any of Hemingway’s works. I’m not a fan of fiction, and I don’t read much at all. I prefer to write. Hemingway was a roustabout, a legend, womanizer, boozer, big game hunter and a regular manly man’s man, so I get the whole worshiping of the ground he walked on aspect of it all. I was unmoved, but nobody cares what I think, so who cares?
These mean looking cats all have stupid names like Lady Fotherington Catnip, all of which I forget
I’m wandering off into a back alley full of cat’s pee. Don’t get me started about all the bloody roosters down there. The locals have allowed entire chook families free reign over much of the city. It’s probably good for tourism, I don’t know. It gave me touretts all day long shouting at them to shut the fuck up.
I seem to be in a bad mood today for some reason. I probably need to go outside in the sun for a while. This place is a gothic cave that somebody said resembles a 1980’s student house in Melbourne. It’s very dark, especially now that the trees are again covered in leaves.
Melbourne Florida on the other hand, is very bland but that’s another story.
Good Day.
Not gonna lie. This is one of my very favorite songs of all time. That’s what I call singing.