01-31-2006, 05:20 PM
Pages: 1 2
01-31-2006, 05:29 PM
anytime
02-01-2006, 08:13 AM
Keyser Soze Wrote:you make bad posting
and you reproduce it
02-01-2006, 11:20 AM
Part 2
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tony1.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tony1.jpg"></A>
This is Tony. Tony lives a rad existence. We'll meet him again later.
Our bus finally arrived at Nine Mile after a beautiful ride through Jamaica's wilds. In the hour and a half drive (not including bathroom breaks) we drove through their rainforests, wilderness, ghettos, and more upscale communities. Our tour guide/drug dealer regaled us with facts about Bob's life and shared some his own favorite Marley songs. All of which coincidently, every tourist on the bus had heard before and expected to hear. You could even buy his mix CD for $10 at any point along the ride.
Upon entering the Marley compound (and I say compound because security closes and boards the large gate behind you as the bus pulls in), I was swarmed with several people that wanted my attention.
A few tried to call me over to this open window at one end of the compound.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide11.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide11.jpg"></A>
One person was fishing for tourists under the large compound gate.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide8.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide8.jpg"></A>
How do you attract a tourist? With appealing bait!
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide10.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide10.jpg"></A>
It was here that we abandoned our tour guide and bus driver. We were directed through the gift shop (with promises to return!) and out toward the rest of the manor up the mountain. Along the way, workers and what I doubt were regular staff either walked with us or tried to entice us from corners and alleys waving joints and bags of ganja. There almost seemed to be a hierachy in who was allowed to flaunt it and who wasn't. There were those that walked straight up to us and offered and others who flashed a joint or bag when the other locals weren't looking. Even worse for Tony was when someone came up next to him while he was at the urinal and invaded his personal space. Patting a decent sized bag in my pocket, I said no thanks and everyone did respectfully leave me alone at that point.
We were coralled into a cafe and had 5 minutes to browse, get a drink if we wanted, and wait for the rest of the group to make the climb. Among our tour group was an old portly man who walked with a cane on one side with his tiny wife propping him up on the other side. The climb up and throughout the rest of the tour was no arduous climb for the rest of us, but his breathing was strained and weak the entire time.
We were joined by our new tour guide at this point. He introduced himself and I regret that I'll never remember his name. It was so distinctly Jamaican that I simply can't recall it. He gave a little introductory speech about both himself and the property and almost immediately ingratiated himself to all present, both square and hip alike. Many of the older couples and families seemed incredibly turned off to the tour with the apparent pot party and drug hustle when they walked in, but all it took was a few warm greetings and a highly infectious laugh to win them over.
I captured video for posterity.
http://s32.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=09Z66...6100P5252H
Even though there were only 20 of us on this tour out of all the 2200 people on the cruise ship, I would later here it repeated from across the casino, halls, and upper decks at random.
He led us out of the cafe and up yet another mountain path to another gate. He took the hand of the old portly fellow and helped him along until we reached the top. To our right he pointed out a family burial plot where Marley's relations had been laid to rest.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/familygrave.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/familygrave.jpg"></A>
I also took some pictures of the flora that lined the path up.....
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/flora1.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/flora1.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/flora3.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/flora3.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/flora4.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/flora4.jpg"></A>
....and someone trying to get our attention from over this fence. Look closely.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide9.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide9.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide9a.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide9a.jpg"></A>
This lazy cat gave us the stink eye as we walked over and past it, but otherwise did not budge from its place. That is until 5 minutes later when it walked up, started trying to hack something up, and then went back to lay down.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/lazycat2.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/lazycat2.jpg"></A>
We stopped here for our tour guide to show us a rock garden which spelled out Bob's name painted in rastafarian colors. He spoke a little about rastafari values and ideals and what it meant to both Bob and the Jamaican people as I went to snap a picture. It was then that I noticed a duo trying to get our attention from the roof across the way.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Dankrd/tourguide1.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide1.jpg"></A>
As our tour guide spoke and sang, a voice from a tree behind us called out his punchlines and mimicked his hearty laugh from a tree above.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/mockingbirdboy2.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/mockingbirdboy2.jpg"></A>
We continued on and came to the top of the path. We lingered here and I snapped pictures of the home that Bob was raised in. I regret not being able to take a clear picture of it. Our tour guide led us in song and worked some more of his philosophical voodoo on the straight people.
I did not notice that Tony had disappeared from the tour at this point. As our tour guide was speaking, he snuck away with someone else on the tour to roll a joint with the bag of weed he had purchased earlier. They ducked into a door and sat down on an open couch. It was nice and cozy and they went to work breaking up the weed and rolling a nice fat joint. It was then that another staffer walks in and booms "What you doin' here, mon?"
"Uhhhh...." was the reply.
"Dis Bob Marley's house. You can't be wearing those shoes in here."
They had walked in and sat right down on Bob Marley's sofa. The staffer noticed that they were rolling a joint and laughed. He gave them a pass and shooed them out back to us.
I smoked my first Jamaican weed at that point and underestimated how it would affect me. It was fantastic for 10 minutes as I just absorbed the moment. I listened to our tour guide speak and sang along with the crowd. Then the intense paranoia set in. I was walking around with a big bag of weed intent on trying to smuggle it onto a cruise ship later. And I reeked of weed. Not only had I just smoked, but as the last person in the passing circle as everyone else gave up on the joint, I had saved it. I didn't want to litter on Bob Marley's yard. My heart started racing and I felt lightheaded. I was in a panic and desperate to throw my weed away whenever I had the opportunity. I missed everything else our tour guide said as I flipped out in my own stoned little head about custom officials and barking dogs.
I snapped out of it when we were asked to kick off our shoes and file in to pass the aforementioned couch and tiny bedroom and out to a courtyard. In the center was a rock which stuck out of the ground and was painted in the red, yellow, and green of the rastafari. Our tour guide took a seat upon it and told us about how it was where Bob came to medicate, sing, and smoke pot most days.
He invited everyone to take pictures of both himself and the area around us. To our right was the small house we had filed through and a pile of our shoes.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide5.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide5.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide6.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide6.jpg"></A>
Ahead of us was a small shack with a yound boy peering at us from the window. He would later beckon to me from behind a closed gate to come over and talk to him, but I kept walking. He even jumped up and grabbed the sides of the bus when we were leaving and asked Weird for a dollar through the window. When Weird said he didn't have one, the kid offered to sell him a joint for $20.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide4.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide4.jpg"></A>
To our left was Bob's resting place. A large masoleum had been built in the courtyard to house both his and his brother's bodies.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/masoleum1.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/masoleum1.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/masoleum2.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/masoleum2.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/masoleum3.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/masoleum3.jpg"></A>
Our tour guide told us a tale about how in the past he used to sit down there and light a joint for the crowd, but was fired when an unappreciative tourist snapped a picture of him and turned him in. It took him6 years to get his job back. He said he hoped people could appreciate how nonthreatening and spiritual an element it could be to a person. He acted out pulling a joint from his pocket, taking a deep hit, coughing and then bellowed his hearty laugh.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide3.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide3.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide7.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide7.jpg"></A>
From here we crowded into the masoleum which was much more crowded than it appeared from outside. In front of the tomb that contained the two bodies was pictures of both and a collection of loose trinkets that had been left by his family on a cloth. At each corner of the masoleum stood a burning candle but we were encouraged to squeeze between the wall and the tomb and file around it. As stoned and suddenly claustrophopic as I felt, I found it to be quite daunting to make it through this task without tripping, knocking something over or off the wall, passing out or burning myself on one of the candles. I succeeded without incident.
Our tour guide led us back down the mountain and bid us farewell as we continued on back to the giftshop. I purchased a shotglass for my friend's collection and picked out the smallest glass pipe I could find. I figured I had a good two hours to sober myself up and determine if I was going to try and bring it back onboard.
On the ride back, I ditched the joint, wrapped the pipe and weed in a napkin, and stuffed it into an empty cigarette pack. I then tucked it snugly beneath the boys downstairs and tried to psyche myself up. When we disembarked, I took the long walk down the dock and got in line for our cruise ship and tried to look less guilty than I probably did. I did not succeed in this.
I was tapped on the shoulder by a customs official who pulled me ahead of line to a table and asked for my messenger bag. He took his time pulling different things out of my bag, querying me about them, and admiring my mp3 player after I told him what it was. I think he liked the color.
He wished me a nice day, handed me back my bag, and I lived happily ever after.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tony1.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tony1.jpg"></A>
This is Tony. Tony lives a rad existence. We'll meet him again later.
Our bus finally arrived at Nine Mile after a beautiful ride through Jamaica's wilds. In the hour and a half drive (not including bathroom breaks) we drove through their rainforests, wilderness, ghettos, and more upscale communities. Our tour guide/drug dealer regaled us with facts about Bob's life and shared some his own favorite Marley songs. All of which coincidently, every tourist on the bus had heard before and expected to hear. You could even buy his mix CD for $10 at any point along the ride.
Upon entering the Marley compound (and I say compound because security closes and boards the large gate behind you as the bus pulls in), I was swarmed with several people that wanted my attention.
A few tried to call me over to this open window at one end of the compound.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide11.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide11.jpg"></A>
One person was fishing for tourists under the large compound gate.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide8.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide8.jpg"></A>
How do you attract a tourist? With appealing bait!
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide10.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide10.jpg"></A>
It was here that we abandoned our tour guide and bus driver. We were directed through the gift shop (with promises to return!) and out toward the rest of the manor up the mountain. Along the way, workers and what I doubt were regular staff either walked with us or tried to entice us from corners and alleys waving joints and bags of ganja. There almost seemed to be a hierachy in who was allowed to flaunt it and who wasn't. There were those that walked straight up to us and offered and others who flashed a joint or bag when the other locals weren't looking. Even worse for Tony was when someone came up next to him while he was at the urinal and invaded his personal space. Patting a decent sized bag in my pocket, I said no thanks and everyone did respectfully leave me alone at that point.
We were coralled into a cafe and had 5 minutes to browse, get a drink if we wanted, and wait for the rest of the group to make the climb. Among our tour group was an old portly man who walked with a cane on one side with his tiny wife propping him up on the other side. The climb up and throughout the rest of the tour was no arduous climb for the rest of us, but his breathing was strained and weak the entire time.
We were joined by our new tour guide at this point. He introduced himself and I regret that I'll never remember his name. It was so distinctly Jamaican that I simply can't recall it. He gave a little introductory speech about both himself and the property and almost immediately ingratiated himself to all present, both square and hip alike. Many of the older couples and families seemed incredibly turned off to the tour with the apparent pot party and drug hustle when they walked in, but all it took was a few warm greetings and a highly infectious laugh to win them over.
I captured video for posterity.
http://s32.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=09Z66...6100P5252H
Even though there were only 20 of us on this tour out of all the 2200 people on the cruise ship, I would later here it repeated from across the casino, halls, and upper decks at random.
He led us out of the cafe and up yet another mountain path to another gate. He took the hand of the old portly fellow and helped him along until we reached the top. To our right he pointed out a family burial plot where Marley's relations had been laid to rest.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/familygrave.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/familygrave.jpg"></A>
I also took some pictures of the flora that lined the path up.....
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/flora1.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/flora1.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/flora3.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/flora3.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/flora4.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/flora4.jpg"></A>
....and someone trying to get our attention from over this fence. Look closely.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide9.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide9.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide9a.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide9a.jpg"></A>
This lazy cat gave us the stink eye as we walked over and past it, but otherwise did not budge from its place. That is until 5 minutes later when it walked up, started trying to hack something up, and then went back to lay down.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/lazycat2.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=130 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/lazycat2.jpg"></A>
We stopped here for our tour guide to show us a rock garden which spelled out Bob's name painted in rastafarian colors. He spoke a little about rastafari values and ideals and what it meant to both Bob and the Jamaican people as I went to snap a picture. It was then that I noticed a duo trying to get our attention from the roof across the way.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Dankrd/tourguide1.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=100 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide1.jpg"></A>
As our tour guide spoke and sang, a voice from a tree behind us called out his punchlines and mimicked his hearty laugh from a tree above.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/mockingbirdboy2.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/mockingbirdboy2.jpg"></A>
We continued on and came to the top of the path. We lingered here and I snapped pictures of the home that Bob was raised in. I regret not being able to take a clear picture of it. Our tour guide led us in song and worked some more of his philosophical voodoo on the straight people.
I did not notice that Tony had disappeared from the tour at this point. As our tour guide was speaking, he snuck away with someone else on the tour to roll a joint with the bag of weed he had purchased earlier. They ducked into a door and sat down on an open couch. It was nice and cozy and they went to work breaking up the weed and rolling a nice fat joint. It was then that another staffer walks in and booms "What you doin' here, mon?"
"Uhhhh...." was the reply.
"Dis Bob Marley's house. You can't be wearing those shoes in here."
They had walked in and sat right down on Bob Marley's sofa. The staffer noticed that they were rolling a joint and laughed. He gave them a pass and shooed them out back to us.
I smoked my first Jamaican weed at that point and underestimated how it would affect me. It was fantastic for 10 minutes as I just absorbed the moment. I listened to our tour guide speak and sang along with the crowd. Then the intense paranoia set in. I was walking around with a big bag of weed intent on trying to smuggle it onto a cruise ship later. And I reeked of weed. Not only had I just smoked, but as the last person in the passing circle as everyone else gave up on the joint, I had saved it. I didn't want to litter on Bob Marley's yard. My heart started racing and I felt lightheaded. I was in a panic and desperate to throw my weed away whenever I had the opportunity. I missed everything else our tour guide said as I flipped out in my own stoned little head about custom officials and barking dogs.
I snapped out of it when we were asked to kick off our shoes and file in to pass the aforementioned couch and tiny bedroom and out to a courtyard. In the center was a rock which stuck out of the ground and was painted in the red, yellow, and green of the rastafari. Our tour guide took a seat upon it and told us about how it was where Bob came to medicate, sing, and smoke pot most days.
He invited everyone to take pictures of both himself and the area around us. To our right was the small house we had filed through and a pile of our shoes.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide5.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide5.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide6.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide6.jpg"></A>
Ahead of us was a small shack with a yound boy peering at us from the window. He would later beckon to me from behind a closed gate to come over and talk to him, but I kept walking. He even jumped up and grabbed the sides of the bus when we were leaving and asked Weird for a dollar through the window. When Weird said he didn't have one, the kid offered to sell him a joint for $20.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide4.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide4.jpg"></A>
To our left was Bob's resting place. A large masoleum had been built in the courtyard to house both his and his brother's bodies.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/masoleum1.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/masoleum1.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/masoleum2.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/masoleum2.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/masoleum3.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/masoleum3.jpg"></A>
Our tour guide told us a tale about how in the past he used to sit down there and light a joint for the crowd, but was fired when an unappreciative tourist snapped a picture of him and turned him in. It took him6 years to get his job back. He said he hoped people could appreciate how nonthreatening and spiritual an element it could be to a person. He acted out pulling a joint from his pocket, taking a deep hit, coughing and then bellowed his hearty laugh.
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide3.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide3.jpg"></A>
<A HREF="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide7.jpg">
<IMG HEIGHT=150 WIDTH=100 SRC="http://i36.photobucket.com/albums/e38/Danked/tourguide7.jpg"></A>
From here we crowded into the masoleum which was much more crowded than it appeared from outside. In front of the tomb that contained the two bodies was pictures of both and a collection of loose trinkets that had been left by his family on a cloth. At each corner of the masoleum stood a burning candle but we were encouraged to squeeze between the wall and the tomb and file around it. As stoned and suddenly claustrophopic as I felt, I found it to be quite daunting to make it through this task without tripping, knocking something over or off the wall, passing out or burning myself on one of the candles. I succeeded without incident.
Our tour guide led us back down the mountain and bid us farewell as we continued on back to the giftshop. I purchased a shotglass for my friend's collection and picked out the smallest glass pipe I could find. I figured I had a good two hours to sober myself up and determine if I was going to try and bring it back onboard.
On the ride back, I ditched the joint, wrapped the pipe and weed in a napkin, and stuffed it into an empty cigarette pack. I then tucked it snugly beneath the boys downstairs and tried to psyche myself up. When we disembarked, I took the long walk down the dock and got in line for our cruise ship and tried to look less guilty than I probably did. I did not succeed in this.
I was tapped on the shoulder by a customs official who pulled me ahead of line to a table and asked for my messenger bag. He took his time pulling different things out of my bag, querying me about them, and admiring my mp3 player after I told him what it was. I think he liked the color.
He wished me a nice day, handed me back my bag, and I lived happily ever after.
02-01-2006, 03:50 PM
Don't have the time or wherewithall to read all that but I too have recently returned from a tropical cruise paradise <!-- m --><a class="postlink" href="http://www.jamcruise.com">http://www.jamcruise.com</a><!-- m -->
Pics to come, if anyone can tell me how to subvert my company's new Surf Control, installed just in time for tax season.
Pics to come, if anyone can tell me how to subvert my company's new Surf Control, installed just in time for tax season.
02-01-2006, 04:03 PM
thank you surf control!!!
02-02-2006, 03:30 AM
fuckin wherewithall, for fucks sake whore!
02-02-2006, 04:05 AM
Suzie Wrote:Don't have the time or wherewithall to read all that but I too have recently returned from a tropical cruise paradise <!-- m --><a class="postlink" href="http://www.jamcruise.com">http://www.jamcruise.com</a><!-- m -->
Pics to come, if anyone can tell me how to subvert my company's new Surf Control, installed just in time for tax season.
you can't be bothered to read "all these words", but were supposed to care about your vacation pictures? what the fuck?
And Danked, Im envious of your trip - it sounds like it was a blast.
02-02-2006, 07:14 AM
if you have no time, why even bother? Yes you have a semblance of a normal life now and don't suck dick for money, we get it.
02-02-2006, 02:05 PM
stupid cunt
02-02-2006, 04:47 PM
this is about danked, lets get back to his riveting story telling.
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