IHOP in Miami

Holy shit my friends. That was a long layoff. Its quite a tale too.

Basically, I had to leave the country. The election scared me so much I couldn't even enjoy balloons anymore. Imagine how I felt, a colored fella running against an old fart. Figuring America was fucked, I left.

My first stop was filthy fucking Mexico. I jumped on a flatbed truck headed for Piedras Negras and my journey began. Once on the other side, I nearly vomited at every turn. The stink in that country! For my own health, I had to get the fuck out of there too. I carjacked these stupid fucking college kids with one of them new fangled Volkswagen bugs and beat a hasty retreat. I remember one of my gentleman callers mentioning an airport in Monterey, so I hauled ass.

Sure enough, there was an airport. I went to the ticket counter and told the wetback at the counter I wanted to get the fuck out of his festering sewer of a country. Didn't care where. Next flight Pepito. He gave me a ticket and I ran to the plane without knowing where I was going.

Well, apparently the flight was to Cuba. Fucking Cuba. Communists, voodoo, and rampant homosexuality everywhere I looked. The police questioned me. Apparently you need a "passport" to "travel". Fucking bureaucrats. If Ike were still alive a girl wouldn't have to put up with this shit. Anyway, these cocksuckers re-labeled me as being in a persistent vegetative state. As you may have guessed, they pulled the plug.

I laid there in a Cuban hospital, literally starving to death and horny as a motherfucker. The flamboyantly homosexual male nurse was hot. I could have turned him if only they would plug me back in. I eventually convinced him to accept a handjob for the re-plug in. His cock wasn't nearly as big as I had hoped. Anyway, the feeding tube nursed me back to health.

Healed, I planned by retreat. I remember hearing about these earth smuggling Cuban boat people who floated on refrigerator doors to Florida. I went to the beach and talked to some guy who hooked me up with a door to float on. I paddled out like a surfer and began my journey home.

Three weeks later I arrived in Miami. I immediately had to go eat, so I went here. It gave me the shits.