Loving the poo in San Juan Del Sur Nicaragua

   Story time!

   San Juan Del Sur Nicaragua, Semana Santa 2008:

   So, it is a Friday night during the week of the saints, and it seems like the entire city of Managua has pounced upon our little beach town. I am tending bar and the place is packed. When I say packed, I mean absolutely full to the brim.

   While working I notice a god awful smell rise through the air. Being extremely sensitive to foul smells, I gag a little and my eyes start to water. A minute later one of the cocktail waiters comes over to the bar gagging as well and pointing to the bathroom,(which only lies ten feet away from the bar) telling me that I have to check this out.

   The bar is swamped and the smell continues. So, I keep my head down and keep pounding out drinks. After about ten minutes we hit a short lull at the bar because just about everyone has a drink in hand. I walk out of the center island bar and over to the bathroom. The smell increases exponentially as I near the door.

   There are patrons and employees alike nearby the entrance both laughing and gagging. One employee, (another bartender) bends over and throws up, then begins to laugh again. I push the women’s bathroom door open with my foot, (mind you I said women’s).

   The reek that spills out is gut-wrenching. The entirety of the toilet is covered in soft served shit, as well as, the walls behind and next to the toilet. The toilet paper roll is covered in shit. The floor is covered in shit. Even the sink which is a couple of feet away, has some shit spattered on it.

   It looks as if someone filled a large balloon with diarrhea, then plugged an air compressor into the open end, and inflated the shit filled globe to the point of high powered eruption. I immediately call for a bucket of concentrated aromatic disinfectant and a bucket of bleach water.

   Unconcerned about mixing chemical, (I have already thrown up in my mouth twice) we step back and throw the bucket of bleach solution hard against the adjoining walls and toilet. Then, we follow it up with a heavily concentrated bucket of disinfectant water. We close the door and put the “Out of order” sign up. The smell wafting from the women’s room is almost immediately toned down to a tolerable level.

   I hurry back over to the bar and begin working again, but the smell in the bar persists. About forty minutes later the smell still has not abated and it is not now coming from the bathroom. So, I leave from behind the bar again to go investigate. The nose burning reek is the strongest on the south side of the room so I start my search there. It only takes me about thirty seconds to notice a girl sitting at the bar drinking a beer. The whole back side of her white shorts are muddy brown.  Upon noticing this I point her out to our security staff. A majority of our clients notice this as well, and start to point and laugh, saying things like, “What the fuck, she’s just sitting in her own shit!!” The bar sits stilted on the beach, so the water is literally less than one hundred feet away.

   I throw up in my mouth a little more while telling her, “Why not go wade out into the ocean to clean of a bit?  I mean, you’re covered in hot putrid shit.” She doesn’t really respond, just continues drinking with a glazed over look to her eyes. The security guards help her up to escort her outside. The sight is fucking gnarly. Her ass is soaked through with wet shit and the insides of her bare legs are covered in feces as well.

   Security takes her outside and we don’t see her again. It was absolutely mind boggling. A well dressed, pretty girl sitting in her own shit for an hour or more in a packed out bar! Slowly, with the poop factor removed, the open air aspect of the bar takes care of the smell.

  Yes, her bowel movement was so fetid that in an upstairs bar, completely open to the outside on three sides, including the ocean side with a strong breeze, that it damn near gassed us out.

 This really happened.

 I wrote about 1000 more words on my manuscript Blind man blue last night. The book is coming together now where the first three main characters stories intersect. My friend Gretchen found a web company that will do small print publishing for amateur authors and sent me the link.  She is very, very good at analyzing and sifting through all of the trash on the net to find completely viable tools!

   This could be my first option after I finish the manuscript and have it professionally edited. Maybe start with E-Books and do a small amount of printing as well.

Until later!

The wee hours:

   Super chill! Shiny shiny shiny!

The Zombie Blog : Ladies night and more research

   Shiny dresses that are way too short with exposed cleavage and sometimes nipples. Yes, it’s ladies night folks! This title can easily be misconstrued seeing how there are not very many ladies in this town.  Let me slightly retract that statement. Some can definitely be your lady for the right price. Others however, do not hold an ounce of etiquette within the sparkling vessels in which their tactless characters are forever imprisoned.

   They come in by the droves, to consume the free gasoline that is offered with a lime and straw. Most won’t buy anything; they just lie in wait for the hour when the free drinks commence. After the hours of courtesy are over, if they haven’t found a patron, they either leave or slip back into the corners where they won’t be as pressured to spend four dollars on a cocktail or leave altogether.

   I must say however, that it is always entertaining and usually not so rough on the eyes, not counting the few that are a definite HARD 22, still trying, and trying, and trying. If you are a single guy looking to party, they can surely show you a good time or the occasional drama fests that can surpass the good time by much farther on the amusement scale.

   I’ll update this later this evening and let you know how everything goes!

   So, I found a new website www.kickstart.com. It’s a creative projects funding platform and it is an absolutely marvelous idea; however, qualifications to post your project are limited to United States residents only. I could probably get around this, but I would have to go back to the U.S. to re-activate all of my banking information et cetera et cetera.

   I have been out of the country for so long that everything is on hold. I once tried over the phone to re-activate, and retrieve my account information, but they told me it was something that I have to do in person. Anyone have any ideas??

  Here is an excerpt from my manuscript for you all to read and I will update you in the wee hours:

   Nobody really knows what happened. Nor did anyone step up and take responsibility.  Some suppose it was just the course of nature, like the earth fighting back or something like that. The religious vary between the wrath of god, or some revised version of the tribulation. The governmentally dubious claim it was biological weapons testing gone awry. However, all of the conjecture about conspiracies or who’s to blame is really, at this point, irrelevant. As it was irrelevant from day one.

   The only thing really worth thought is, how to move forward. How to persevere with what we have left.  And let me tell you. It’s not much.

   How to survive. That is simply the one thing of value to ponder. Why? Because it’s a useful meditation. All of my (and most people’s ) prior preoccupations now seem utterly petty. A shiny new car, a giant flat screen plasma television, the newest, fastest portable computer. Is my shirt pressed and which tie will I wear to work today? Will I have a half caff double caramel macchiado or a vente latte? Hell, even the important stuff seems petty. Like the rent, or the electric and water bills.

  I no longer dwell on superfluous subjects. I don’t have to go into the office. Or, pay the bills. I don’t worry if I’m going to make it home in time for a reservation with my girlfriend at the latest highly reviewed restaurant.

   My job every minute of every day now, is to survive, and to help others survive. I know this might sound kind of fucked up, but there is a certain freedom in that. Also, this will probably sound even more fucked up. I absolutely love my new job, and I am exceedingly good at it.              

 Now that the power is out, there is pretty much just one kind of coffee. Black.

Don't forget to check out my zombie laden facebook site. www.facebook.come/blindmanblue
for other great chapter excerpts of my zombie book, (zombie novel) Blindman blue and a great community of zombies, oops I mean people who love zombies and like genres.

The Zombie Blog

   So I have decided to start a blog, based on the wonderful advise of my loving sister-in-law. I will take you through a sort of day in the life of what I have seen and what see daily here in Costa Rica. I work in night clubs  in Central America, so believe me, there is plenty to write about. I might sometimes put shocking things in here, but hey, it's reality. So, if you are adverse to writing that can be graphic and explicit in nature, then you probably don't want to read me.
   The second reason I will be blogging, is to document the process of writing my book. As well as, all the steps I take to find an agent, editor, and publish it (hopefully). Maybe there are other writers out there who will follow my blog and can learn from my mistakes throughout this process. With any luck, there will be some one following that can share advise with me as well!
   I will try to write daily although; I know that this will be an impossibility due to the fact that I am working six days a week and also writing a novel. So, I will at least write every two days!

   Last night was a Sunday evening, and it was dead. I don't have too much to say about it, other than the two drunk Ticos from San Jose that backed their giant Lincoln Navigator into a parked car across the street from the bar. They paused for a second, as if to deliberate on what they should do. After this short pause, they fled the scene. While the throngs of people outside were screaming to get the license plate number, I looked over my shoulder and saw a police car watching the whole thing unfold. They didn't move an inch. Side note, in the last twelve times that I have called the police, they have not once showed up. Six of the twelve time in which I have called, no one has answered the phone. This is the Wild West. 
   I spent some of my down time at work last night investigating tips and tricks to publishing a manuscript. I must say it was daunting and discouraging. Basically I learned that, If you are not accredited, no one will even look at your work, no matter how good it is. It said that the days of old are gone. The small number of print days to get your great piece of work a little bit of recognition,(to get a larger printing later) are gone.
   I have been writing basically my whole life. Mostly songs and poetry, this is my first attempt at a long works. There fore, I have not been printed in any newspapers or magazines. I have not worked on any major websites as a content writer. I had never thought of going in this direction until about a month ago when I started my manuscript,(I already have 100+ pages mind you). To be blunt, I have absolutely no credentials. it is going to be extremely difficult to even get one single literary agent to read my manuscript.
 
   Tomorrow perhaps I'll share with you one of my crazy wild west stories.

   Until then, peace!


Don't forget to check out my zombie laden facebook site. www.facebook.come/blindmanblue
for other great chapter excerpts of my zombie book, (zombie novel) Blindman blue and a great community of zombies, oops I mean people who love zombies and like genres.