WELL HELLO THERE.
I know, I know. It’s been a while. The last time I updated was just after appearing on the Jenny McCarthy Show in June.
My absence could probably be explained by her and I running away together but I don’t like to be sued for defamation so we’ll just leave it that I’ve been busy and lazy.
Also, my wife has spent the last month or so trying to explain Game of Thrones family trees and lineage to me so that takes up a TON of time. Usually it all ends up with me looking at her like this:
Regardless, I’ve been away so I apologize for not writing.
We went to Mexico.
I’ve never been to Mexico. The furthest I’ve ever been out of the United States is actually Montreal, Canada or – if you’re talking about just feeling like you’re on a different planet – Oregon. I used to go to Oregon all the time on business and still actually have a contact high from the last time I went in 1997.
But this year, I took my family to Mexico. Playa del Carmen, to be exact.
For those who don’t know, “Playa del Carmen” is Spanish for “That guy Carmen is a playa.” I didn’t get to meet Carmen. Probably because he was getting laid all the time, I don’t know.
And just like the time we went on a cruise, I’m presenting you with a list of “Things I Learned While in Mexico.”
1) Mexico is hot as balls in July
We opted to go to Mexico in July because it’s the only real time I can get all of the kids together at a time when my wife can take a week of vacation.
This was not a great idea.
The average temperature in Mexico in July is 90 degrees. Not bad, but the humidity level is roughly that of the Pacific Ocean so the “feels like” temperature is around 1 million degrees.
Here is a typical conversation we had during our stay in Mexico in July:
I wish I was joking.
When you walk out of your hotel door and immediately turn into a pile of sodium, you know it’s hot.
2) Mexican people are wicked nice
Keep in mind that we stayed at a resort and did not venture into Mexico City or any questionable areas because I have an aversion to being stuffed into the trunk of a 1982 VW Rabbit and held for ransom by drug kingpins, so maybe our exposure to the people of Mexico was a bit skewed on the tourist side.
But OMG everyone we talked to was awesome.
By the time we left, we were all speaking bits of Spanish like “gracias” and “hola” and “por favor” and “mas tequila” and “Hola, mas tequila, por favor. Gracias.” Essentially we were just asking for drinks because we were at an all-inclusive and I’ll be damned if I’m not getting my fill of free booze.
But I loved the people we met at the resort and on excursions and in local shops. The people trying to stuff you in a trunk, though, are probably a little meaner.
3) Pesos are cool but, like, really frigging confusing
Sure, we did a bunch of cool stuff like visit ancient Mayan ruins and riding JetSkis and snorkeling, but the majority of my time was spent on my phone using a “Pesos to Dollars” calculator.
Before we left, I exchanged some money for pesos. Keep in mind I had absolutely no idea what a pesos (wait..is “pesos” singular or plural? Is the singular term “pesi?” I have no idea). The money they gave me back was plastic feeling and had weird pictures of people I didn’t know and one even had nudity:
So my wallet had a stack of pesos in it that we’d use for spending money but I had ZERO idea how much anything cost in Mexico. It turns out that 20 pesos is roughly a dollar. A DOLLAR.
Of course nothing costs 20 pesos so whenever you’d buy something you’d have to figure out if you were getting ripped off or not.
Mexican salesman: 500 pesos, por favor.
Me: That’s…um…500…divided by 17.4…carry the zero…
Me: [still thinking] ..multiply by pi..
Me: [takes out calculator] Salesman:
Me: Fuck it. Just take all of it.
I have been back for a week and still have no idea how much money I spent. Also, I have a petition to get butt crack on our dollar bills. If you see it, please sign it because butt-crack money is awesome.
4) Mexico excursions are way better than going to Six Flags
We did a bunch of stuff while we were in Mexico. One of which was visiting the ancient Mayan ruins of Coba.
There are a bunch of ruins you can visit, but Coba is the only one you can actually climb. I figured if I was going to an all-inclusive and eating and drinking all day I should probably get in some exercise.
We booked a tour with the AMAZING tour company, Kay Tours, who promptly picked us up at the ass-crack of dawn so we could get to the Coba site before other people. It was easily the best decision I’ve made in a long time and I make a lot of awesome decisions so that should tell you how great a decision it was.
I’ll give you a minute.
Only five of our family of six made it to the top of the ruin because it’s 120 steps but each step is roughly 3 feet tall and my stepson’s fear of heights kicked in at roughly step #2.
Not ONLY did we get to Coba before anyone else, but after visiting (and climbing) the temple (the tallest point in the Yucatan Peninsula), we also went snorkeling in two cenotes.
Cenote is actually pronounced “See-No-tay” or “C-note, ay” – if you say the latter one like Fonzie asking for a $100 bill you’re on the right track.
Cenotes are natural sinkholes. Like Kim Kardashian but you can swim in these and they’re not annoying.
One of our guides, Rose, is a free-diving champion and can hold her breath for 5 minutes. She is also really sexy. Our other guide, Santiago, looks like Tom Hardy so between Rose and Santiago most of the time my wife and I spent on our excursion was spent looking at our tour guides’ bums. True story.
If you go to Mexico, you have to swim in a cenote. Second-clearest water on the planet (the first clearest is the water under the polar icecaps, the third clearest is a bottle of Aquafina, I think).
5) Mayan sacrificial daggers are not allowed in your carry-on luggage
On our way back from our excursion, our guides stopped at a local family shop where my girls bought themselves blankets and dream-catchers and my boys bought themselves obsidian Mayan sacrificial daggers, of course.
We later decided to pack all our souvenirs into a carry-on bag because we didn’t want anything breaking in the luggage hold because airport baggage handlers like to see how far they can throw your luggage and also how bouncy they are.
Obviously, we completely forgot about the daggers until we got through airport security and were pulled to the side.
Airport Security: I need to go through this bag.
Me: OkayyyyOOOOHHHH THE DAGGER
Airport Security [unwrapping the dagger]: This can’t go on the plane in a carry-on.
Me: Really? Why not?
Me: I’ll go back and check it as luggage.
6) I’d go back in a heartbeat
Mexico gave us one of the greatest vacations ever and some memories my kids will never forget.
I can’t wait to go back again.
Just not in July.
I enjoy not having my skin blister at 7 AM.
Haha, sounds like an awesome family holiday and you still have your sense of humour. Bonus! Thanks for sharing 😊👋
Notes On #3: We already DO have butt crack money. It’s called all of it, and it’s called that because it has ALL been in a stripper’s butt crack at least once.