Stealing Home

By J. J. Bond

Based on real events.
A truly unimportant story of an incredible major crime in small town Neverland.

Follow the author’s romantic expedition through time and deception into a world of lost trust, lust, criminal intent and rejection. Delve deep into the criminal underbelly of Mexican Drug Cartels, Federal Marshals, Canadian and International Policing Agencies and deep into trusted “friends” who betray, steal and deceive you. Follow this truly unimportant major crime from it’s beginning to tragic ending and release yourself into a spine tingling adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781532016288

J. J. Bond

Raised in a small town outside of Toronto, Canada. Studied Arts and Photography in College then received an Administration Business Diploma and is one of the original founders and developers of an International Trade Magazine for the automotive market. The author’s purpose and passion soon propelled him into working in the fast paced empires of international Advertising and Promotions. As a Specialized Multi-Media Agent, New Business Development and Creative Production Consultant. Along with his international marketing experiences, the author’s career took him zooming into many exotic and erotic places. Then deep into a journey through the protected underworld and on into an unbelievable adventure into the New World Vikings of Newfoundland.

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Copyright © 2017 j.j. Bond.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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ISBN: 978-1-5320-1626-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-1627-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-1628-8 (e)

iUniverse rev. date: 07/24/2019

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

The Beginning..

The Song Remains The Same..

You are the messenger of GOD and through you he does exist..

You have but one father and that is the Heavenly Father..

He created but one race, his race, the human race..

You were sent here to protect it, adore

it and respect it, all of it..

CHAPTER ONE

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A truly unimportant story of an incredible major crime in small town Neverland

SONG 1: Hey, hey, my, my, rock-n roll can never die.. There’s more to the picture than meets the eye, hey, hey, my, my.. Out of the blue into the black, you pay for this and they give you that.. Once you’re gone you can’t come back, it’s outta the blue and into the black..

She stood there with me in that house, on that warm sunny afternoon.. She was frozen on the first step that lead to the cellar.. She turned to me, her eyes piercing into mine.. Her pupils blackened with fear, it’s haunted, she said, her voice trembling, there’s ghosts here.. Uncanny, that such a short time later, I’ll sternly warn her.. Don’t ever go to The House on Silver Creek, don’t ever open that door again, ever.. It’s haunted, there’s ghosts in there.. Everything about that house is dead, everything in it has died..

So, this is what they mean when they say, When Hell freezes over.. It’s cold, not snowing yet, not sleet, just bitter cold, Canadian cold.. They’ll tell you, it’ll twist your bones, it’ll grab your nervous system up through the muscles cracking every joint in its path.. Crunching your way through that glistening pile of frozen snow, now covering the colored steel of what was once, your warm safe car and soon maybe again, if she starts.. You adjust, painfully filling your lungs with frosty cold chilling air.. Your finger’s numb, a man’s beard will frost to ice and forget about saving your balls if you gotta piss outside.. Oh ya, there’s this big Canadian rule we live by, eh.. Watch out where the Huskies go and don’t you eat that yellow snow..

The winds had adjusted their course, south-east straight off the ice fields of the Arctic.. Canada was bracing itself once again for another long cold one.. Winter was coming, my sign, it was time to head south, stay warm.. My profession permitted me to work throughout the world.. This winter I was heading for six months in the sun.. A great offer to work the winter of 2006/07 in Cabo San Lucas, San Jose, Baja Sur California, Mexico.. Lands’ End as it’s translated, where the Sea of Cortez meets the mighty Pacific.. Cabo, its marked with the Arch, a hole drilled by the nails of the tides straight through the rock mass that is Lands’ End.. Cortez is the natural breeding ground for most sea creatures.. Everybody’s dream destination, my dream job..

We stood there in that cold November night, the winds reaching through her, brushing her hair one side to the other, washing itself across that beautiful face of hers.. A face I had looked into a thousand times before.. This night I needed to see it clearly, completely, see deeply into her eyes, her heart.. It was my picture of her, my last look, you know the mind shot.. The one we remember, the one that we will always keep deep inside our hearts..

I swept her long jet black hair in one clean sweep with my left hand, grabbing at its silkiness in my fist then neatly tossing it up into a tail.. Twisting it, I held it firm between her tender dainty neck and my man sized hand.. This wasn’t the first time I had her by the tail and I reminded her of it.. I caressed her into my grip gently.. Jackie always moved where I moved her.. My other hand holding firmly across her black leather motorcycle jacket.. It was so cool, the steel studs highlighting it and the jacket hugging her frame perrrrfectly snug across her precision cut ass.. She always looked like a model in it, my little biker chick I’d call her.. I stood there kissing her, brushing against her, fondling her body..

As the outer doors of the departure gates of Lester B. Pearson, Toronto’s International Airport, slid open and closed to allow the torrent of pedestrians to pass through, Drop Off Only the sign read.. We kissed and kissed deeply and passionately.. I told her I loved her over and over again, how much I would miss her.. The airport security guard rushed toward us, the shiny red Chevy Sunfire had overstayed its welcome.. Then as if he was on a leash, he stopped dead in his stride, he looked at us for a long moment and nodded at me as if to say, It’s okay, take your time with her, you may never see her again.. He turned, looked back once, then he quickly rushed away to harass another drop-off violator.. I kissed her again then again, each time longer, harder.. I knew I wouldn’t see her until she came to join me in Cabo..

For me, I’m good in old town Mexico, I’m easy in the hood or the quaint fishing villages.. The families there are bound together from over thousands of years.. Hanging with the natives, as I call it.. But her, Jacqueline, she was gringo’s girl, no princess, just real down to earth.. Pure Canadian Grade A Beef, sweet as maple syrup, real sugar and spice and definitely had everything nice and oh so neatly packed away..

After a 20-year marriage, to the queen of nice.. Jacqueline was a good second chance for me.. They were similar in certain ways, different as day and night in others and more than I would have ever believed in one way, and that, I was soon going to find out.. The four years we had spent together brought us deeply in love.. She was the last thing in my world that I wanted to lose, she knew that..

Jacqueline wasn’t very well traveled, something I was intending on changing in her life.. I figured I could just introduce her to my real Mexico, slowly, safely.. She’d be a lot more comfortable in gringo’ land, as the Mexicans call it, all whites or affluent Mexicans.. Gated compounds, armed security, all the comforts of home behind a fence.. I wanted her to feel she was safe, somewhere she could call home.. As I was nearing to deliver my final and most passionate kiss, before I miss my rocket to Margaritaville.. I couldn’t escape the thought that she had asked me not to go.. It was three days before I was booked to jet out.. I knew she was just scared, lover’s worry, separation anxiety, something like that..

I loved her and she loved me, this was going to be a good move for all.. I could take care of some business, grab some cool cash and Bob’s your uncle.. Jacqueline had never been anywhere other than the trip I took her on the year earlier to Florida.. She got the bug as I say, the travel bug.. She was looking forward to Mexico and sex on the beach.. I didn’t know it then, but I would never hold Jacqueline like that again..

I’d never kiss her that way, with both of us enthralled in passion.. Yes I’d see her again, even spend several nights together with her.. I’d also see me behind the walls of a maximum security prison, three times.. I’d see everything in my world stripped from my life, stolen by two incredible con men, friends.. I’d also see the two men responsible for it all walking free right there in downtown Revenant, wearing my clothes, my watch, my jewelry, my shoes, using my identity, and all the time conning, scheming, lying to everyone in the town family, friends, strangers and Jackie..

The Neverland Provincial Police, Revenant N.P.P. will ignore every possible clue.. Just to make sure everyone is perfectly clear here, I’m the one that will go to jail.. The two people that teared up under that cold November moon, that kissed in front of those electronic sliding doors.. The two lovers that wanted a life together, they would never be the same.. Both of them will soon be nothing more than victims..

Jacqueline was planning on coming on January 7th with my daughter Ambrosia, who was going to enjoy winter break from her studies at University.. My son Jessie and his girlfriend Melody, were coming down to work with me for the season.. A real chance to bond with him.. We had split as a family five years earlier.. Where could it be cooler than all-inclusive, private members only resort, which I was going to be part of their Executive Management team?

Jessie has seen the life many times, now he was going to feel it from the ground up.. Jacqueline was only coming for a visit, spending New Year’s and a couple of weeks break.. For the two of us it was time together on the beaches of Cabo in Mexico.. Maybe she would just stay she could work for me, be my private sexatary.. I’d always say, We can work something out, no problem señorita, then I’d give her the look.. She knew the details.. I’d take care of her, protect her, always be there for her.. She was mine and I’d fucking kill anyone that ever hurt her, hunt them down like a dog, forever..

Meanwhile, Jackie and I were going to be in each other’s arms, naked on a beach in Cabo, in less than a month.. She made me promise to find her our own private piece of paradise.. I exposed her to sand surfing and sex on the beach in Florida, before that Revenant, Sauble and Walla Walla Beaches and was now working on South America and then the world.. I kissed her goodbye, walked through those electric doors that a thousand other lovers had walked through today and boarded the plane.. I shed a tear or two, more likely closer to 20 as I flew off to go work in Cabo on November 28th, 2006 at 8:30pm Neverland, Canada time..

That is where the story starts, the novel, the book.. It’s just not where it begins.. To get to the beginning we need to go back.. Almost fifteen years earlier to the first day I walked into the office in Revenant, a door I would live to regret ever opening.. This is where I meet the great Ricky B. Rotten, A.K.A. Richard Always B. Rotten.. Five years later would put me in front of another door, another company, another regret, right in front of Ben Gomer (Benjamin), the best of the best.. Mr. I’m Not Responsible for Anything, Ever, Gomer.. Never had a truer word ever been spoken about a man, by the man, in fact in plain truth.. True words were something seldom used by either of these two clowns.. Two men that for well over 10 years called me their friend.. Both to whom I gave to, beyond belief, beyond friendship.. Both whom from me took more than my life..

SONG 2: Wasting away again in Margaritaville, searching for my lost shaker of salt, some people say that it’s a woman to blame, but I know it’s my own damned fault.

I could just fly away.. It has always intrigued me.. You get on the plane at 8:30 pm., you fly for five hours and arrive at 11:30 pm., funny.. The steward advises the seat belt sign has been turned on.. The captain announcing that it’s 11:26 pm. west coast time.. The outside ground temperature is a balmy 79 degrees and there’s a six kilometer wind from the east.. We are now preparing to land.. The plane gently lays down.. The voice once again soothing, Ladies and gentlemen, he pauses.. The craft comes to full stop.. Welcome to Cabo San Lucas, Baja, Mexico, Bienvenido," translated in perfect Spanish..

As I step out to the debarking port, I immediately grasp the warmth of Mexico.. The sky, the dry of the desert night air, it’s cool breezes, interact with the heat, that still remains well past the sun going down.. It’s like a late July afternoon in Canada, warm, beautiful.. I cross the tarmac where I see the mountains rising through the night sky, their silhouette blinding the sky behind them, the palm trees shifting with the burst of the winds, the smells of colitis and then there it is, the eighth wonder of the world, Millionaires Row, Cabo International Airport.. Although small it parks more millionaires’ Lear jets than probably any other world-wide destination..

You enter the airport, the warmth of the Mexican people shines through quickly.. You sneak through customs and then, this is why you come to Mexico, the people.. Hola señor he says.. He’s got the best spot right as you walk in the door.. His dad probably had it before him and he would have gotten it from his dad, if his dad helped build the place, or whatever it would have cost him at that time.. Then the next and just when you thought you’re free, one more.. Cómo estás, Bienvenido a México, Buenas noches.. May I help you with your bags amigo? Where are you from? Where are you going? You wanna buy my sister mister? Okay well maybe not right there, but two blocks down, the pink house on the left, past the barking dog..

The limo driver points it out as he pulls from the curb, he cruised the town, then l checked into the resort.. I told the bell man in my best expressed Spanish to just bring my things to my room.. I tipped him and headed out to the outside pool bar for a Fresca, some late night schmoozing, see what’s what, check the place out.. It’s me, the first thing I do is check out the beach.. Why else would I go to Mexico? I sat at the edge of the Sea of Cortez.. I always told Jacqueline that no matter where we are in this world, we’re never that far apart from each other, we’re both always under the same moon, just look up and you’ll see me.. I raised my glass of mango juice, then prepared to call it a night.. I made my way past the night desk along the walk to the condos, over the bridge, that was fastened with rope and tree sap.. A technique used by the native Mexicans for 10,000 years..

Up the bridge path, across the living pond that the tourists would stop at to check out the vast variety of fish aquatic life and to get their pictures taken with the giant iguanas in the natural setting of plant life and colorful birds.. Behind that, a thirty foot waterfall.. Then palm trees lined the walkway to the main lobby.. There they place bags of colored lights, so creative, a simple ten inch white bag folded at the top for strength, filled four inches deep of sand with a pocket where they poured the colored wax, then lit.. Then strategically placed around the entire resort, as the primary lighting source.. I turned the key on the mighty old door.. It opened with perfection, swinging on its own weight, without a sound..

I’ll sleep peacefully tonight with the sirens of the sea singing through my patio doors, the cool winds lacing the drapes until they find me.. Jacqueline was always on my mind, tonight was no different.. I lay in my bed, thinking of her.. I was thinking how much I missed her, thinking that once she got here, she’d just stay..

Song 3: It is the evening of the day ayaya. I sit and watch as children play ayaya. Smiling faces I can see, but not for me.. I sit and watch as tears go by ayaya..

What is life? Everything comes to life in a Mexican morning.. The day was just starting to light the morning skies above the blackness of the ocean.. The birds almost as if one after the other just woke each other up, voices of los pescadores preparing to launch their skips, as they head out to sea.. The divers are along the shoreline snorkeling for lobster and shrimp.. The breeze brings with it the smell of fresh coffee, the tinkle of glass, the shuffles of shoes as the staff prepares for the 7:00 am. breakfast rush.. The hungry masses are about to head to one of the four seaside Palapa restaurants, the beach bar and the pool side café..

With a final coo from a morning dove and his mate, I awake.. I raise myself from my bed, rub my eyes and realize I’m in Cabo.. Good morning Mexico, it’s about time you showed up.. The patio doors are open, warm already.. My only thought is, this is it, my alarm clock for the next six months.. Now how do I set this thing and where is the snooze button.. The skies are dark still, the sun rising, behind the darkness, slowly lighting it in streaks, slower than I’ve ever seen it open before.. This one was going to be historical, for me..

I’m on my deck, it’s 5:37 am.. There’s this slit in the sky directly in front of me between the horizon and the sea.. I’m thinking it’s a cruise ship, a fishing boat or something, an oil rig, U.F.O., a plane crash.. What, what was it? I go pour my first cup of coffee.. I glance at this strange thing in front of me.. I return to the deck, rolled up a dooby that I got the limo driver to grab for me, from the little pink house on the left, near the barking dog.. Real Mexican Gold, 200 pesos an ounce, twenty bucks gringos and gringos, don’t’ ever buy dope on the streets or the beach in Mexico.. You’ll get ripped off and then if you don’t buy it and you asked for it they’ll turn you into the Feds for cash or their brothers are Feds..

Get the drivers, they know where to drop you safe.. They won’t turn you in, they simply say Yes or No.. It’s always about cash in Mexico, always about cool and always, always about N.R.F., no red flags.. Now on the other hand, it is Mexico.. You’re a tourist and a nice mark.. Let me best explain it this way.. I was working in Mazatlán years earlier, mi amigo.. Leny gets grabbed on the streets.. He’s Canadian, possession, marijuana, one ounce.. They cuff him and throw his ass in the back of the truck, drive him 20 km. out of town and tell him to give them 200 pesos and they won’t take him to jail.. You can walk back to town they said to him.. It’s night, you can hear the coyotes and wild dogs howling..

Leny, being a shrewd negotiator, he cuts the Feds a deal.. I’ll give you 400 pesos Leny tells them.. You drive me back to town, stop at the Super Marketa for the cash, some cerveza and smokes and give me back my pot and I’ll roll us a dooby for on the way.. Half hour later we were sitting at a beach burner, burning high grade federally inspected Mexican Gold.. A story you can tell your grandkids.. The point is, if you’re going to play in Mexico, carry some cash, not large but enough so you can buy anything you need at the big dollar store..

So there I am watching what will become the most magnificent sunrise of my life.. It was time lapsed, slow motion, inch by inch it opened in the sky.. It was so far away yet huge, the biggest crest of sun I had ever seen in my life, anywhere.. You could see the balls of fire spurting from its mass, I blinked.. The vapors from the heat you could purely feel the warmth.. Mexican sun, it’ll melt the skin off you in twenty minutes, stupid gringos.. I couldn’t leave.. It was just incredible, again inch by inch, every inch it widened across the sky.. I thought that it was going to burn the earth up, vaporize the seas, cause trees to flare like matches, cook the flesh from my bones.. It was almost scary, it was like a freak show, a fluke of nature.. I was mesmerized, hypnotized, tranquilized and stoned, thank you very much..

I watched it, as I sipped my coffee, black, spiked with Kahlua and puffed on my Mexican Gold.. An entire hour it took until the bottom of the sun laid upon the top of the Sea of Cortez, then the Orcas appeared, they’ve come to feed from the hands of the Gods.. This is where their journey ends, Lands’ End.. Each fall this is the spot they come to feed, and care for the young.. To prepare them for the journey to the Alaskan ice fields, up the Salish Sea, the Straits of Georgia, into the Straits of Juan De Fuca, British Columbia, Canada.. It’s just incredible as they breach the waves, young and old, full loops, belly flops, a sight from the eyes of the Gods.. Who says the Lord doesn’t provide us with everything we really need in this world? That he would never ask more of you, than what he knows you can give? That’s for all of his creatures..

Song 4: And you can hear me, when I sing softly, slowly.. Hold me closer tiny dancer, count the headlights on the highway, lay me down in sheets of linen..

Stupid gringos.. I like it too, going around acting like a tourist.. It’s all part of my work, so I enjoy doing my research, getting to know the areas, the attractions, the favorite hits for the tourists.. Habla with the natives, really get into the town, the sights, sounds, the bustle, the smells, the taste of the little city, le Pueblo, the town, Central, the middle of town.. Really I’m not a gringo.. In fact you might not be either.. You need to be an American to be a real gringo..

Until the Mex know you’re not gringo you still are.. With most, even when they know you’re not an American, to them you’re still a stupid gringo.. The Canadians are mostly safe.. We gain a little respect from our peacekeeping image, primarily because, when the Yanks decided to invade Mexico, their friends and neighbors, in 1847 to steal their land, California, Nevada, New Mexico and Texas proper and whatever else they could take, rape and pillage, the Canadians helped negotiate as arbitrators and contributed with the respect of the Mexican government and the people in ending the war.. In fact the very last battle took place in what has now become one of the most beautiful parks in the entire world, the largest in the western hemisphere.. Chapultepec Park in beautiful, mysterious, dangerous Mexico City..

The Mexican nation surrendered and gave up millions of valuable acres of their country’s main resources, their land.. As the arrogant Americans retreated back across the new borders.. The Mexicans celebrated the army’s departure.. The people screamed in their anger, with broken English.. Go home green as the uniform colors identified them as Mexico’s only known enemy of any time.. The Mexicans immortalized the Yanks.. Go home green, green go home.. Forever more an insult to all Americans, whites, blacks, yellow, brown, green.. Basically non Mexican nationalist You’re a gringo..

As l entered Mexico through el Paso, Texas, immediately l’m stopped by the army.. I’m interrogated, investigated, intimidated and warned.. Amigo they warn me.. Do not try to drive through the mountain passages at night, it is very dangerous, animals, treacherous turns, falling rocks and the banditos.. They’re as real as it gets.. They will kill you, strip your car to the frame, remove all evidence that you ever existed and you will simply disappear, bones and all.. Mexico is amazingly beautiful or incredibly ugly, depending on your ability to heed the warnings and survive, l think to myself..

Then into Durango, a desert barren land, up into Chihuahua, then through the miles of sporadic single lane dirt paths that had been carved through the mountains, since the beginning of time.. Somehow the oncoming cars and transport trucks must time their passes, in either direction.. I stop, wait, pray.. Here l’m on the edge of life, on a 3,000’ cliff, that disappears into the canyon below.. Then rising from the center of its floor are massive towers of circular cylinder shaped mountains.. It’s a land mass formation sprouting upward from the earth.. A miracle in itself.. The tops are flattened, as l stare onto this sight of disbelief, l realize there’s a village on the top of the mountain.. As l’m squinting into the vast open sky.. I see the roped ladders, a thousand meters high, with pathways carved into and upward, circling this mound of life.. I just couldn’t help myself, no one could have.. I looked up, deep into the eyes of Heaven, ask for forgiveness for ever having one moment of doubt.. Here is where you can find him, he’s been busy working on another miracle..

This is the passageway through the Devil’s Backbone.. There’s no tourist signs here, no welcome to Mexico, no warnings of the dangers impending in front and below.. The road just closes into a fine mist, first very lightly, then increasingly thickens to zero visibility.. Now l’m in the mouth, the Devil’s Breath.. They say it’s the end of the world, the Abyss, bottomless.. Whatever it is that’s down there or not, it breathes, pure fine warm blinding steam.. If I go over no one will come get me, no one will retrieve my body, no one has ever returned.. I’d simply be gone from the face of this earth.. I’d get the cool little marker, a free t-shirt and the no charge custom inscription, Stupid Gringo..

I normally fly to Mexico, buy a small motorcycle for tooling around but l mostly just walk everywhere.. If it’s far or a large group club’n it, grocery or shopping sprees, I’ll grab a cab or two, 50 pesos, 5 bucks across town or just bus it for 3 pesos, 30 cents, and it’s better than the rides at the fair.. People bring their goats and chickens onboard.. I’m here, in Cabo looking for those experiences and I want to be with the people.. Not to help them, not to educate them and definitely not to change them, but to become them, their constant smiles, the relaxed easiness of their lifestyle, to live in mañana, tomorrow or whenever I get to it.. A lifestyle that no gringo can fully understand.. We live in ‘now’, our parents lived in ‘now’.. They taught us ‘now’, when our food doesn’t come quick enough we bitch, we complain, it irritates us and destroys our day, instead of enjoying the beauty of the surroundings, the peacefulness of her nature..

Her name was Tarrasa.. She danced by the shore.. Her madre and padre, her family and friends all mingled around the table of the sea side café.. She was no more than a child of eleven or ten, I don’t know, maybe twelve, in a child’s physique, but she dances as de bella as I watch in admiration.. The music made no difference to her.. She wasn’t dancing to the beat.. Instead she danced in the water as the waves played, beneath her feet.. I need it now she shouts in a voice two tables back, way above the Mariachi Band, I hear her whaling.. We’ve been here ten minutes now, she cries.. Only two, to be sure.. The gringo lady from behind me, the first sign.. We’ll just never understand, it’s bread into us.. Don’t you know, we ain’t going anywhere, we can’t take a piece with us, unless you know how to jump off it, you’re stuck here with me.. We can’t save the Mexicans, We’ll never make them be like us.. How many times I hear the gringos say, Why don’t they just speak English like us? like us, stupid gringo..

As a Marketer, Director of Marketing, my eyes do the work, they don’t translate or conceive things.. They only see and retrieve what they see.. It’s like my daddy telling me in the store, Look with your eyes not with your hands son.. I know these eyes, the fly’s eyes, they don’t make things up or lie to me, they deal with real.. That way l know what’s what.. I negotiate millions of dollars of sales by looking straight through you with these eyes, letting you lie to me, then giving you the chance to straighten it out, so you can buy.. How do you know anything, if not through your eyes? YOUR life IS NOT REAL, IF YOU live IN A LIE..

Now if I want a car for a day or two, I rent one for 29 bucks a day.. I am usually touring around with friends, people l’d meet, locals.. It’s easy and cheap to live and survive and get around in Mexico.. I use to call the place my big dollar store.. Seriously, anything for a buck.. If it was bad for you, it cost a buck.. Beer’s a buck, shooters a buck, pot’s a buck, kinda.. Cigarettes, now you got it, a buck.. Inflation caught up to everything and today it’s 2 bucks..

I always appreciated the liberal beliefs, in your rights as a person, from the Mexican people.. If you don’t like it don’t come, don’t look, don’t do it, don’t get involved.. If you like it, well it’s 2 bucks.. It’s up to us to choose, each and every one of us.. I had made my choice a long time ago.. I had Jackie, she was my heart, my soul, my mind, my life and I loved her and missed her crazy..

SONG 5: Let the Midnight Special, shine it’s light on you. Let the Midnight Special shine it’s ever loving light on you.

I had spent a great day checking out San Jose, de Cabo, everywhere I’ve ever traveled my one love is how different it is in every