I went to the Dominican because it is a nicer place than here. It looks like this:
The place was called Barcelo Dominican Beach, in Punta Cana. We spent a week there, and the weather could not have been better. My burned head has the faint aroma of cooked bacon.
There was much to do, and I did a lot of it. I swam with sharks. I sauntered down the beach with hookers at 4 am. I cavorted with lizards.
I walked with the monkeys.
And gawked at insane human monkeys.
This guy climbed the tree without any gear whatsoever, sometimes holding on just by his feet to toss coconuts to the ground.
We watched other people dance, inappropriately.
Like this 5 year old with the FCUK shirt. And the drunk old lady with the too-short shorts and “PUNTA CANA” plastered across her half-covered ass getting up on stage during the childrens show;
We played Wii on the beach in the middle of the night with Germans.
The girl on the left was beautiful. We didn’t really talk and probably wouldn’t speak the same language, but I’m pretty sure we’re soul mates.
Hey! Canada! Come into my market dungeon. My name is TONY THE TIGER. This is DOMINICAN WAL MART. Cheapy cheapy! You smoke cigars? You smoke anything else? You here with your wife? Nothing is impossible in Dominican.
You want Mamajuana? Increases male potency. Live bugs and spiderwebs inside, no extra charge. Cheapy cheapy.
Not everyone was impressed with the food, but I thought it was great. Much better than Cuba’s ham/cheese mystery pastes.
This Italian(ish) restaurant featured a giant cockroach crawling on the floor and a waiter that liked to get in on the only picture of all of us together. There was also a roach in our room that reduced three badass men to squealing little girls. Such is the power of the Dominican.
I managed to avoid Traveller’s Diarrhea for the most part, but now that I’m home I have some nasty cases of Traveller’s Cold, Traveller’s Alcoholism, and Traveller’s Blueballs. Thank Satan for Neo Citran, Bailey’s in coffee, and internet porn. Worse than all that, though, is coming home to cold, desolate London and having nothing to look forward to other than a month of winter and endless long days of school and work.
Nevertheless, it was wonderful spending time in a beautiful place with good friends. Cruise next year?
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