This is Bistek al la Mexicana a common dish found many places. There are several places I get this some better than others but all real decent! Kind of a tomato based sauce with generally pretty tender pieces of beef and a fair amount of it. The rice is pretty generic but the frijoles can be something else. This also includes as many fresh made in front of you tortillas you want and brought to you with a smile. Something like this costs around 50-60 pesos or $3. The squeezed as you watch orange juice is 20 and brings the price up a bit but worth it. Nothing in the States I've ever had compares to this not even close plus it'll cost 7-10 smacks. I don't know what I'm going to eat when I return. It will be an adjustment as I do this so much that is go into Puerto Vallarta on the south side and have me a excellent lunch with "real" Mexican food not the slop I get back there. I do not plan on eating out much at all only at maybe three select places. Pricey yes but worth it because it's so good. I threw away so much money last summer eating way overpriced shitty food. Several times the food got thrown away as well. The whole of Mexico is an eating machine I tell you. I'm gonna miss this.

I feel good and and think the higher temps and humidity contributes to that. It's the same every time. After a month or two you realize and say " Hey I feel pretty damn good!"

Just as important I believe the food made fresh with wholesome fresh ingredients as well contributes to that. Get off the bus in town the food smells everywhere make me hungry just like that.


Little One Fly's Religion Story

Some of my earliest memories are having to bundle up in the middle of winter freezing my ass off during the twelve mile ride from outta the cornfield on gravel roads to our parish to attend mass. The time period is early 50's.

There was this short fat little Monsignor Monster wearing these elaborate and colorful robes who would scream at the top of his lungs how little One Fly was going to burn in the fires of hell for a variety of reasons all very bad of course. Rules made up a very long time ago influenced by this guy who could feed a lot of people by snapping his fingers. That's what they were telling me. Of course you're down 2 and 0 right out of the gate cause of that original sin we're all born with you know. I didn't do a goddamn thing I'm just a pecker head kid who got dragged to this place against my will. You want to impress me turn the fucking heat up. I'm still freezing my ass.

In all seriousness at that tender age tiny One Fly called bullshit as he does to this day. Since I was not in control I had to go through the motions for a long time and hated all of it for the most part. As a sidelight during these times One Fly was not a good participant while attending this ritual and misbehaved at least that's what the story is. Dad would be glaring at me and if I was really pissing him off mouth some words. When it was over and on the way to the car he would say "You're going to get it". And on the way back home on one of those gravel roads you never knew where, he'd stop the the car pull me out and give me a spanking. OUCHY WAWA.
I'm pretty sure it was deserved.

Then there's the Continuing Education/Brainwashing side. Leading up to the second biggy the first being Baptism you study and learn all that will make you eligible to receive your First Communion where you are fed one of these guys for the first time. This was always confusing to me. All who enter do win a prize and that is you get to tell all the bad things you have done according to them to one of the robed guys who sits behind a screened window. Can't see him but you can hear him. You've seen him around and he knows who you are. What the fuck do you think little boys do? How I hated this and you had to do it there was no choice. Told to say any number of various prayers and wa la all is otay. You will not burn in the fires of this place called hell and are free to start all over. There need to be laws protecting children from this. On Saturday's would go the other direction for an hour of instruction from penguins at another parish. You didn't even get a break during summer vacation cause there was two full weeks of all day indoctrination back at the other place. This shit was brutal for a kid in my position.

Continuing with education we moved off the cornfield and into town so there could some of the real thing at the Catholic school during the junior high years. Included in that were daily hands on indoctrination sessions with the resident robe. One Fly left a perfect learning environment and entered a classroom of utter chaos. There is one of of my grade schoolteachers left and when I see her she never fails to tell me that I was her best student. I love this woman. It was chaos and the penguins knew so little they actually had students teaching math and science. It took six months for me to be corrupted by this atmosphere and when it came time to enter high school I was not close to being prepared. Just was not strong enough as a person at that time to say no to what I was being subjected to.

It was during that time and for a couple years during high school that I entered the inner sanctum of the robes and became a server. That was kind of fun because you got to mess with all the toys these guys used. You had to light the candles which could be a pain in the ass, fire up the old incense burner, mumble a whole bunch of Latin bull shit, and then when it came time for communion followed the robe around with this fancy wooden handled plate just in case he dropped the guy he was feeding to everyone. Of course when one of your buds was at the rail you jammed that plate into his throat hoping he'd choke and sometimes he did. Then during the sermon you had a birds eye view of all in the audience. Who was asleep who was drooling on themselves and who was misbehaving stuff like that. Then there was holy week. Seven nonstop days of mumbo-jumbo pass all. I have never in my life seen the likes of what happens on Thursday night of that week. This is bizarre shit at the very least. One of the downsides of doing this is that you had to wear this cheap ass black and white floor length dress.

Quit doing the server stuff but during high school continuing education continued with a one night a week gathering for more of the same. For many it was a way to get out of the house or off the farm for a bit of screwing off on a school night. The more daring ones would use this opportunity to sneak a few brewskis before heading home.

This has been the whole truth and nothing but the truth and what is important to me is that they didn't get me. They will never get me and I feel for all the millions who have been gotten and right now it is the ones that have been gotten that are fucking our country up in such a way with a mind fucked agenda and beliefs that are so far removed from reality it difficult for me to put into words what exactly it is except for this is just sick sick shit!

And as another sidelight will add this and make no conclusions or offer much up other than it did happen. I just say that while in West Africa and I will use the word "a spirit" interacted with One Fly. Never saw it but heard it and felt it no bull shit. Maybe it didn't like white boys.


  1. Ahh yes, I remember it well.
    I too, am a Recovering Catholic.
    I have my own faith and they can keep theirs, it's all about the guilt baby.

  2. Seems like you and I have more in common than I first realized. I went through all that but in an urban/industrial setting. Catholics in England are like Protestants in Ireland, very few and far between. The Prods. killed most of them off during the Reformation, but during the Industrial Revolution and the Potato Famine in Ireland there was a lot of cheap Irish (Catholic) labor going around, and my Great-grandfather came to the Black Country of England for work, at first a coal mining town then big time steel production. Hence a Catholic community was re-born, much maligned and treated like shit, started a church, a school and I attended them both. I was an Alter Boy, I did it for the uniform and to get girls. I managed to shake all of the Catholic dust off my shoulders and become a person in my own right. Just like you did.

  3. All that I know Holte is that it was not a good experience. There wasn't hardly a time even very early on that I wanted to be away from it but could not get away.

    Are you an English Texan?

  4. Born and raised in England, traveled a bit, moved to Missouri 25 years ago, lived in Georgia since 2001.

  5. Hope you're not pissed ff thinking you may have been a Texan.

    An English Georgian is an interesting combination as well. Do you share the accents as well?

    Being from Iowa I've spent a fair amount of time in Misery. For the longest time thought I liked that state but after the last couple visits I don't think as much. Just last year when I drove across it on my way to Warsaw IL. was very impressed on so many elaborate decorations for Halloween.

    The only time I've seen a black man on a tractor was in Georgia. West Africa doesn't count.

  6. Not pissed at all, and no me and the Georgians do not share an accent, far from it. There are two accents here, a sophisticated, cultured, charming accent and one that defies understanding. West Africa, sounds interesting, got any old posts on Africa. I've been to North Africa didn't see any tractors, lots of Arabs and Camels.

  7. More people from here need to see other parts of the world because if they did maybe just maybe they wouldn't been so damn stupid.

    You have an interesting back round and just a few things on Africa. A friend did a post on Kenya where he served and there are several that are about music. Did one when Obama went to Ghana which I thought was half ass decent and funny. It's funny anytime a black man gets called a white man. I'll look around and put a couple links up here.