This is how I kept the ice pack on my head...by tying a big pillow case around my head like a bandanna. Pretty badass, right? I don't know if any gangs wear orange but if so, I'd definitely be running the ish on that block.
One week later...getting better. The Little Eye-ngine that Could, if you will? Haha..awful.
Well, there you have it. This will hopefully be the only post I'll have to make on a negative note. Wish me luck with the rest of my trip, and I've learned my lesson so I'll stay safe. AKA I'm trying to find a way to register my 9MM in Spain. It's harder than you'd think. Ever since Charlton Heston died, the NRA's foreign influence has really been lacking. Oh well, there are other ways.
But like I said before, expect more posts to come, I promise to stay up on it. I want to. Although these aren't all stories I should tell my grandkids, I might want to have them around when the 'ole memory starts going...you know, to remember the glory days. When I was getting accosted by prostitutes and violently robbed..those kinda days. I think that's what Bruce was really singing about.
Ah, to be young.