My uncle. My brothers.
Backstory:
Basically, my uncle never wanted to have kids until my aunt couldn’t make him babies any more. Now, he regrets not having kids, and he treats us like his kids whenever he sees us, especially me, probably because I’m the only one that’s still remotely childlike. So yeah. Now you know that.
Believe me, if I knew what that guy on the end in the pink shirt was doing with his leg, I would tell you.
That’s my brother guys. Shh.
That’s my aunt. She’s a boss. I’m serious. Did I tell you the story about how my cousin, a merchant marine who’s in his mid-twenties, came home piss drunk one night after gambling, placed his fifty dollars of winnings on the kitchen counter, then went upstairs and passed out? The next afternoon, he comes down asking about his money, and she goes, “Oh. You mean the money I found this morning in my kitchen, on my counter? THAT MONEY IS MINE NOW.” Like I said. Boss.
If all else fails, at least we had clean hands. Clean hands that didn’t really touch any food.
And since it sounds like I’m hating on Mexican restaurants, I had a right to hate on at least this one. When we were walking up the stairs, I saw something moving in their nacho cheese. MOVING. CRAWLING.
WE ARE MEXICAN. Right. Yes.
Also, this picture was taken with a G12. Twice as fly as a G6.
Okay, I have pictures from the cruise that my dad took, finally. I shall open with this attractive shot, taken during dinner on the first day. ON THE FIRST DAY, GOD SAID LET THERE BE LIGHT, AND THERE WAS LIGHT. And on the second, God said, “OH, GOD, TAKE IT AWAY,” and it was taken away.
By the way, that’s my imitation of sexy sax man.
So, evidently there’s a show every night on this cruise, so I went to see both. Both were more a conglomeration of themed music rather than shows, but I tried my best to piece together a plot. In the first, a Western, the story began in Texas. My hometown in Texas, actually. As far as I could tell, a hillbilly asked this girl out and the girl said no. She then proceeded to have sex with a skinny guy on a horse. The hillbilly, wallowing in a depressive slump, picked up a hooker. Mistakenly believing she was his one and only, he became even sadder upon seeing her dancing with a gay bartender. He then accused her of egocentricity, triggering an accusation of infidelity (although why such an obsessive guy would cheat on her is beyond me) from her. The skinny guy, meanwhile, sang about his newfound and undying love…for his country and military. He then left his woman for the armed forces. The end. Oh, and somehow we ended up in Tennessee.
The second show was harder. As far as I could tell, there was an opening menage a trois on a motorcycle, then Elvis ran away from his fangirls, who spied on him while he was taking a bath, then coerced him into cleaning a diner. To counter, he summoned an army of zombies to scare the fangirls away. Then the cast tried to convert the audience by crunk dancing in preacher robes and some hippies did the splits.
Have I mentioned the costumes? The girls’ seem to be designed to show enough to keep the audience’s attention, but not so much as to give the male actors boners. Unfortunately, the guys’ were perfectly designed to show off their balls. Awkward show, all in all.
I also had an amazing dinner. My little ten-year-old cousins made Deathly Hallows symbols with their utensils, and they played the sexy sax song on the speakers in our restaurant. Then my five-year-old cousin told me about his “home built Maserati that can go four hundred miles per hour. It’s excellent.” His words. He is a fucking genius. Literally. He’s sitting there rattling off his multiples of five, ten, and twenty, then starts calculating his multiples of threes and doubles of numbers like fourteen and eighteen.
Also, I don’t know what it is with the guys on this ship. Maybe they’ve all had too much to drink or I just exude an aura of attractiveness when I’m vaguely seasick, but some guy came onto me today. One of the photographers. Telling me about my beautiful eyes and how he hadn’t seen me around before. Um. One, honey, this is a ship. It’s not like I’m wandering in from out of town. Two, I’m Asian. What eyes?
But d’you want to know how I’m bringing all the boys to the yard? It’s the antibacterial nectarine mint hand lotion I’ve been using all over my body due to the salt air and the lack of body lotion. Mmmhmm.
I HAVE A SECRET. GUYS, I HAVE NO BALLS. I went to chill in a “lounge” (see “bar.” That’s the only thing to do here. Chill out in bars or listen to the comedian tell penis jokes or talk to the cheesy magician as he asks, “Did you have a good cruise?” with a really fucking creepy face. Oh, or sing karaoke and play mahjong. But there is no way I’m singing karaoke.) for a couple of hours to watch the live band, which was actually really good as bands go. This girl walked up to them and gave the guitarist a drink from this disco ball she had and he choked and was all, “THAT IS DISGUSTING, WHAT THE HELL IS IN THERE.” And she grabbed the mic and went like, “That would be straight vodka.” Later, I was going back down to my cabin, and the same girl’s in the elevator, and she said, “Are you thirsty?” and starts walking towards me like she was going to stab me with her — literally — disco stick. And instead of taking a sip, I’m just like, “I’m under 21.” WHY AM I SO VIRTUOUS, LORD. I have never had a sip of alcohol in my life. Then again, I don’t think vodka would be the best first drink.
Speaking of, I got to watch drunk people in action. There was, surprisingly, less stumbling and slurring than I imagined, and a lot more sexy dancing and innuendo.
Straight vodka and I didn’t even try it. I could kill myself. I didn’t even try it. And now my throat is all hoarse because the whole area was filled with indoor smokers.
I still can’t get over it. I TURNED DOWN STRAIGHT VODKA FROM A DISCO BALL.
I must be the only girl on this ship who hasn’t shown off her belly button yet. Even the five year olds have bikinis. THE GODDAMN FIVE YEAR OLDS.
Signs, Shorts, and Conversational Skills
I forgot to mention, onshore there were lots of people trying to sell stuff (isn’t it like that anywhere?). But yeah, so some of the signs were pretty funny, but of all of them, the winners, and coincidentally, the only ones I couldn’t manage to get pictures of, were the “Happy Pharmacy” and the beer joint advertising “Free Mexican Boyfriend.” Interesting shirts, too. Souvenirs that said, “Fuck you, you fuckin’ fuck,” and “I’m Really Shy (but my dick is big).” STAY CLASSY, MEXICO.
Finally, since I’m super tired and want to keep this kind of short before I can no longer fall asleep due to my dad’s snoring, I really wish I was more normal and acclimated to real life conversation sometimes. I was bored of playing mahjong and watching all the other Chinese people walking by staring at us like, “I wish I had thought to bring my travel size portable mahjong set,” so I took a walk. I saw on the ship schedule that there was an LBGT night in one of the many bars onboard, and you know, I’ve never been to a bar, much less an LBGT night, and a cruise ship is the one place they don’t card you to get into a bar, so I went and looked, but the fucking bar was just like “LOLNO.” The closest thing to LBGT in there was two girls dancing together for the viewing pleasure of their considerably older significant others.
So, I went to another bar where a band was playing and just wallflowered it up in the corner until this guy came over and sits by me and asks why I’m all alone. See, for any normal teenager, the great debate here would be, should I tell him I’m underage or see how far this gets? But no, I’m awkward and don’t know how to talk to strangers off the internet, so right off the bat, after “Where’re you from?” he finds out I’m still in high school and backs off. ALL OF MY CREYS. And he was really, really attractive, too. (Not that I expected anything to happen, but it’s nice to talk to attractive, smart people) The most I found out about him was that he just graduated from law school and was partying with three college friends. And his name was Bryan. Yup. Then he was hightailing like no tomorrow. Also, one of the breakdancers was super nice to me since I did a backbend in six inch heels. That’s right. I did a backbend on a cruise ship. Tomorrow’s challenge is a hand stand.
Landed in Mexico today. It was pretty much like New York’s Chinatown, but with people more willing to cut a deal and less sanitary restaurants. By the way, have I mentioned that pretty much everyone on this ship has bigger boobs, wears nicer clothes, is skinnier, or all of the above? Yup. And I’m the only one in my family who still can’t drink. No, not even in Mexico. Oh, and a plenitude of guys that look like they’re straight out of Rory’s porn GIFs. Aaanyways, more on this boat. I find it highly illogical that the light switch for the bathroom is outside the bathroom door, and that the lock sticks out on the outside and can be turned by hand. Just saying, but I would freak out if I was showering and the lights started flickering and the door creaked open. Mmmhm.
(I sound so pessimistic. I’M SORRY. BLAME IT ON THE SEASICKNESS.)
