What Happened To The Journal Posts?

Some of you may be wondering why it’s been so long since I’ve posted a journal entry. I can answer in two words : shit happens. Living in Guatemala, I was using scanned copies from my previous journals. All of the original copies of my journal are safely in a fire-proof safe in my parents attic… well, with 5 kids still at home, I’m not sure if safe is a good word.

Anyways, a month ago the crappiest thing to ever happen since they build crap town happened. My house was broken into and everything of value was taken. Unfortunately, my computer was deemed valuable. So it went. With it all of the scanned copies of my journal entries.

“Why didn’t I back up my computer?” you ask. I did. They stole the backup too.

“Why didn’t you have backups?” I did. They stole both. So here I am forced to remember things about the past to keep posts going until I return back to the states, May 12th is when that’s going down, and when I make my way back to my parents house, I’ll spend another arduous day rescanning my journal entries and the site will continue as it has. In the meantime, I’ll continue to post other stuff that I hope you’ll enjoy.

Like this story that happened a few weeks ago. This story seems to make the case for something I have been suspecting for quite some time, no matter how old my body looks, I think the guy pulling the strings is always going to be a kid.

My little brother is currently down in Guatemala visiting me, and I’ve been helping him learn some Spanish. By helping, I mean I have been teaching him incorrect translations and than laughing to myself as he says offensive things to unsuspecting Guatemalans. I taught him that “Serote” means sir… “Serote” actually means Douche-Bag. So I couldn’t help laughing when this exchange went down the other week.

Tyler: Hi Douch-bag, could I buy a pack of cigarettes.”

Store Owner: (with a dangerous look in his eyes reaches for pack and stoically exchange money with my brother)

Tyler: Thanks Douche Bag.

Despite what international relations and perpetuation of the bad image the US has abroad sometimes, I’m having fun with it. As long as my brother doesn’t wizen up and get himself some real translation services, the game will go on.