Jamaica No Problem

 

Okay so i was gonna get to the exciting conclusion of the last post when i got a bit sidetracked and fucked off to Jamaica for a week, you know that lovely place called Montego Bay dontcha? Well mon, as they say let me tell you, it's a beautiful fucking place like most of the Caribbean and i'm slowly ticking off the islands one by one, of course it wouldn't be a trip to Jamaica if i wasn't smoking copious amounts of ganja and luckily when Donnell the Bartender saw me smoking my only cigarette of the week he quickly asked me if "i was okay" or patois for "need smoke" and before you could say, Yah Mon, my man Omar the Custodian and i were exchanging currency and product and my week was off to as flying start, not to mention the vast amounts of Red Stripe i consumed on a daily basis along with my favorite tropical resort drink, the mudslide made with the delicious Jamaican rum creme, needless to say it was the mellowest fucking week i've spent in a long time, in fact it's the first time i've burned morning til night in ages, waking with a strong cup of Blue Mountain coffee and a spliff, wandering off to breakfast, dealing with the Posa (see Costa Rica post), i mean nothing really phased me...

 

Of course when i went to town i couldn't walk five steps without being offered more gear and i must say i think i have a face every rasta weed dealer loves... or maybe they just recognize their brethren from years past when i was doing the same thing, so on my little wanderings i scored some ganja-cake, which i was told would make me fuck like a stallion but really just made me crave a beer and trip to the buffet while trying not to doze off in my jerk chicken, i rode water slides and went on a catamaran and swam in that beautiful blue Caribbean Sea and generally had a smashing fucking time with the boyos and the rest of the clan that tagged along, met alot of swell folks from that other island i like so much and a fine couple from Canada who left me the rest of their weed and hash before they caught their plane home, yes i was having it, heard way to much Bob Marley (which is still great) and not enough Peter Tosh and Jimmy Cliff but did get this old rasta band to break into the Harder They Come and shared a good laugh with the old gravely voiced singer... and why i don't know why i picked the song up top i do know that the song below sorta described my week... now back to the regularly scheduled program...