AV8ORAG84 said:

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I've seen ping pong balls , raw eggs, razor blades, come out of the private's of the girls in Thailand, they can also smoke cigarettes, slice bananas and shoot it across a room, even live eels. The rest is not to be told........

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The ones I saw could blow perfect smoke rings from down there.

I was at that Pat Green show. Big time. My buddy was drinking Carta Blanca 12 oz and I was on the 7 oz Corona. We were drinking 1 to 1. He got drunk. Big time.

No, I believe Lampasas. He would have '99, but you probably saw him around. Short, skinny, deaf.

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And these are the reasons I was glad to be "sober enough" to not leave TAMU at the reveille call at midnight to "Lets to go Mexico"....my kids are "sheltered" for a reason....

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You know, there is a boatload of wisdom and truth to that. I lost 3 good friends during HS due to drunk driving wrecks. I knew a few other kids who suffered the same fate and another nice young woman that died of alcohol poisoning. In hindsight I remain grief stricken now as a parent.

And it is not that parents were negligent, it is just that times and personas of kids was different back then, it seemed/seems to me that kids were wilder and more mature, but not in good ways. Parents did all they could to head off, prohibit, and discourage wild ass activities, but it was not that easy to do with kids back then.

Edit to mention, I believe a disproportinate number of my HS classmates and contemporaries ended up with drug and booze problems. One is currently succumbing to cirrhosis and dying a bad death at 52. And several others had passed on in the last 10 years or so due to what I can't help but think were alcohol and drug hastened deaths.

Love Gun said:

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^ I wanna would have liked to party with this that guy!

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Thanks for the thought. FIFY, as luckily I left behind those days early in my life, not to mentioned survived them. I think I finally obtained a moderate level of maturity around 30, although my wife will disagree.

Those were very fun times, but as mentioned previously they did come with a lot of peril. But damm we had some fun.

My buddy's cousin was supposed to come a be a roommate my sophomore year. He grew up outside of Johnson City, and spent time in the Air Force. He had high plan for studying accounting at A&M. The dude knew cows, but I'm not sure he could turn on a calculator.......ie turns out he couldn't get into A&M if he wanted to. No problem, 2 weeks before school he broke his neck/back in a bull riding accident (he was a really good in high school and was in process of getting his pro card).

But the dude was impulsive as hell. Be got a job as a ranch hand just outside of College Station. About 10 PM on Friday we are sitting around shooting the breeze and the song "Blame it on Mexico" came on. So he decides to go to Mexico, right then. Problem was he hadn't cashed he paycheck yet. In Joey's mind anyone that was brown was Mexican, and he spoke Spanish. That might be the case in Johnson City, but not in Bryan in '95 . So at almost midnight, he is going around to gas stations trying to cash his paycheck. Apparently when you try kissing up to the Middle Eastern guy in Spanish, he gets insulted.....and at least one freaks out thinking your skin a-- is a meth head trying to rob the place. Joey was truly baffled that no one in Bryan wanted to cash his check at midnight.

Eventually he said screw it, and just headed south. Solid planning.

All these stories read like Redneck Red Shoe Diaries.

Holed up in some bar in Boys Town in the late 1980s with some friends. One of our buddies had a girl take a liking to him and she sat next to him and was rubbing on his crotch. They started kissing and she grabbed his hand and put it under her shirt top. We were giving him the business and hollering and making a racket. A few minutes later she grabbed his hand and put it up under her skirt. His eyes got real big, he jumped over the back of the booth yelling "it's a dude.... it's a dude!!" We laughed so hard we couldn't move. We gathered our stuff up and walked out with the whole bar laughing at us.

rlb28 said:

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Holed up in some bar in Boys Town in the late 1980s with some friends. One of our buddies had a girl take a liking to him and she sat next to him and was rubbing on his crotch. They started kissing and she grabbed his hand and put it under her shirt top. We were giving him the business and hollering and making a racket. A few minutes later she grabbed his hand and put it up under her skirt. His eyes got real big, he jumped over the back of the booth yelling "it's a dude.... it's a dude!!" We laughed so hard we couldn't move. We gathered our stuff up and walked out with the whole bar laughing at us.

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Having gone up the mountain at a very young age I was what you would call a veteran between my friends at A&M. We started regularly playing in a golf tournament at Ft Clark in Brackettville. In about 2000, this thing had grown to where we were taking 30 plus guys to play. (A small group of us had started playing in 93). Of course the trip involved eating at Ma Crosby's, partying at Corona and Up and Down Club. In 2000, we took a new group of folks from Houston. They were fired up about going to boys town. There were about 20 of us that ventured out there in a line of cabs. As their tour guide, I explained to the new guys to not under any circumstance kiss the girls. I explained that you would be tasting ***** if you did. They were very unprepared to the experience.

Five minutes in we are being entertained by the banana/corona lady (she probably weighed 90 lbs) and I look over and see two of the Houston boys mugging down with the ladies. My brother and I tried to break it up and they would have nothing to do with it. One of the morons paid to eat the banana. As far as I know they are all still alive and didn't die of AIDS.

Acuna was not nearly as scary Laredo was. Papa Gallos and penny lane in Laredo can scar folks. Got arrested and held in the stockade at the entrance there one time. Different story.

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My brother and I tried to break it up and they would have nothing to do with it. One of the morons paid to eat the banana. As far as I know they are all still alive and didn't die of AIDS.

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We lost one of our buddies for about an hour down there and looked all over for him. Drunk and mad at him we decided to head back across the border without him. We looked down a side street and there he was, pants down to his ankles with some girl bent over a short fence. No condom. No care in the world. He, too, is alive with no known evidence of AIDS or STD.

My story involves TJ. As a young new Marine Private in 1996, my buddies and I were not supposed to go south of San Diego. You think that stopped us? We went to Revolution St. and partied it up all night with a $5 cover charge and free alcohol.

At about 0300, my buddy and I got separated from the other two in our group and decided it'd be best to head back to our hotel in San Diego. I somewhat remember trying to speak broken Spanish to a cab driver on the US side of the border after we walked across. Nevermind that I missed the fact that he was black. Anyhow, sensing a "language barrier", we opted to go with a Hispanic cabbie because he understood my Spanglish. We told him to take us to the Howard Johnson downtown and off we went.

The next thing I know, he's shaking me awake outside of the HoJo. I wake my friend, who decided to open his mouth and yack all over the back of the cab the moment he opened his eyes. The cabbie gets pissed and starts demanding $20 more to clean the cab. I told him to show me their policy, and basically where he could stick his "extortion".

Luckily, 3 other Marines at the HoJo observed what was going on from their balcony and came to help. They came down, paid the cab driver and carried my friend up to our room.

We get to Room 622, or whatever the hell it was, and my key wouldn't work. One of them asked me if this is the right room. I look down at the key, then the door, and sure enough, I had the right key/room. One of them pulls out a key card and asks why my key doesn't look like his (card vs. metal key). Come to find out, the Howard Johnson wasn't even our hotel!

We then stumbled our drunk asses about 3 blocks through downtown San Diego to get to our correct hotel. There's some fine people out there on the street at 4 in the morning.

Love Gun said:

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My story involves TJ. As a young new Marine Private in 1996, my buddies and I were not supposed to go south of San Diego. You think that stopped us? We went to Revolution St. and partied it up all night with a $5 cover charge and free alcohol.

At about 0300, my buddy and I got separated from the other two in our group and decided it'd be best to head back to our hotel in San Diego. I somewhat remember trying to speak broken Spanish to a cab driver on the US side of the border after we walked across. Nevermind that I missed the fact that he was black. Anyhow, sensing a "language barrier", we opted to go with a Hispanic cabbie because he understood my Spanglish. We told him to take us to the Howard Johnson downtown and off we went.

The next thing I know, he's shaking me awake outside of the HoJo. I wake my friend, who decided to open his mouth and yack all over the back of the cab the moment he opened his eyes. The cabbie gets pissed and starts demanding $20 more to clean the cab. I told him to show me their policy, and basically where he could stick his "extortion".

Luckily, 3 other Marines at the HoJo observed what was going on from their balcony and came to help. They came down, paid the cab driver and carried my friend up to our room.

We get to Room 622, or whatever the hell it was, and my key wouldn't work. One of them asked me if this is the right room. I look down at the key, then the door, and sure enough, I had the right key/room. One of them pulls out a key card and asks why my key doesn't look like his (card vs. metal key). Come to find out, the Howard Johnson wasn't even our hotel!

We then stumbled our drunk asses about 3 blocks through downtown San Diego to get to our correct hotel. There's some fine people out there on the street at 4 in the morning.

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And we have a winner for the most boring non-Mexican side story. I wasted the time reading this thinking surely it was headed somewhere. Nope.

Old RV Ag said:

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Love Gun said:

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My story involves TJ. As a young new Marine Private in 1996, my buddies and I were not supposed to go south of San Diego. You think that stopped us? We went to Revolution St. and partied it up all night with a $5 cover charge and free alcohol.

At about 0300, my buddy and I got separated from the other two in our group and decided it'd be best to head back to our hotel in San Diego. I somewhat remember trying to speak broken Spanish to a cab driver on the US side of the border after we walked across. Nevermind that I missed the fact that he was black. Anyhow, sensing a "language barrier", we opted to go with a Hispanic cabbie because he understood my Spanglish. We told him to take us to the Howard Johnson downtown and off we went.

The next thing I know, he's shaking me awake outside of the HoJo. I wake my friend, who decided to open his mouth and yack all over the back of the cab the moment he opened his eyes. The cabbie gets pissed and starts demanding $20 more to clean the cab. I told him to show me their policy, and basically where he could stick his "extortion".

Luckily, 3 other Marines at the HoJo observed what was going on from their balcony and came to help. They came down, paid the cab driver and carried my friend up to our room.

We get to Room 622, or whatever the hell it was, and my key wouldn't work. One of them asked me if this is the right room. I look down at the key, then the door, and sure enough, I had the right key/room. One of them pulls out a key card and asks why my key doesn't look like his (card vs. metal key). Come to find out, the Howard Johnson wasn't even our hotel!

We then stumbled our drunk asses about 3 blocks through downtown San Diego to get to our correct hotel. There's some fine people out there on the street at 4 in the morning.

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And we have a winner for the most boring non-Mexican side story. I wasted the time reading this thinking surely it was headed somewhere. Nope.

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That's good. You can still kiss my ass.

Besa mi culo

Edited for Spanglish

My contribution begins here with AgsMnn's question.

This is going to be long and broken up in segments, but I trust it won't disappoint.
I will go out on a limb and say this will be the best BT/Donkey show story posted yet.

Part 1:
Early 80's. My ole lady was from SA, TX and his family had 2 places that we were fortunate to get to go hunt while in college and after, one not too far from Del Rio, the other not too far from Laredo.

First trip across the border for me was from Del Rio, 5 or 6 of us drove in a single cab pickup, 3 in the cab, remainder in the bed. Parked and taxied across. Only one of the group was blonde, or white headed, and he also was the only one of us wearing a cowboy hat. The old ho*rs flocked to him, slithering out of the dark alleys, walking straight up to him and soliciting his business. He quickly inquired with my ole lady, the only Spanish speaking guy in the group, how to politely decline. I bet we heard him say "no gracias" 50 times that night.

There was always a guy out front of each establishment, campaigning for business, and every one of them was claiming that there would be a donkey show. We would go in, have a few beers, watch the girly show, bananas being inserted whole and spit out in small bites, a drunk hunter on the front row doing things he would regret, the older Mexican photographer selling his polaroid party pics, but never a donkey show. Move on to the next bad spot, same drill. Same claim of a donkey show by the boy out front that never happened.

At this point in time, my ole lady had never witnessed the donkey show, and he had been going across since high school in the late 70's, but lots of interesting and sometimes scary stories of the cultural exchange back in the day. We began referring to it as "the ever elusive donkey show", believing that it was only a myth, urban legend, never to be seen.

We only went a few times. When hunting the other place, we loved to go across at Laredo and go eat at a place called El Rincon (spelling???). They had awesome Cabrito and Gorditas like I've never had again since.
To be continued,,,,,

Part 2:
Fast forward to Early 90s. My ole lady was still single, but I was married with a child so I was doing the family thing. Took a trip to far West Texas to visit a friend, who was also single, his little brother was a student at Sul Ross, and we wound up taking a trip to Del Rio with a group of about 6, 2 of which were college girls, we all went in a 4-door pickup, and these boys were regulars, drove across with no fear.

The front guys were still doing their thing, claiming the Donkey Show would begin shortly, and also talking about a Monkey Show. The Monkey Show was someone in a gorilla suit, being led by the stripper, had a big fake weenie, the drunk hunter on the front row would be trying to get a closer look and the Monkey would climax with silly string or something, spooging anyone within spooging distance. Same drill, guy with a polaroid camera, but none of the establishments ever coming through with a Donkey Show.

Along about this same time, my ole lady shared a Laredo story with me when he, his brother, and another friend went across and it all went wrong. They decided to drive across, but made sure they cleaned everything out of their truck and left it in their hotel room in Laredo. They get stopped, asked to get out of the truck, several cops searched the truck and one of them comes up with an empty shell casing. My ole lady is the spokesperson for the group, he and his brother speak Spanish, but the friend doesn't. The brother and the friend have assumed the position of hands on the hood of the truck, spread eagle. My ole lady is rattling off Spanish with the Cops and the friend is repeatedly asking the brother "what are they saying?",,, to which my old lady's brother replies "We're fu***d". The friend is crapping himself, terrified they're about to rot in a Mexican prison.
Similar to other stories on here, my ole lady drives the truck with a cop riding shotgun, brother and friend are in the back of a cop car, and basically the Mexican cops just want money. One of them has a small stash hid in his boot, they come up with about $300 cash not counting what's in the boot, and they go free.
But wait, there's more,,,,,

These stories suck. Just stop

Final Chapter:
Around 2003, I'm hanging out with my ole lady and some other friends who have been on these cultural exchange trips, and one of them says something about the Donkey show, as if it really happened, so I say "hold up, are you saying y'all actually witnessed a Donkey show?"

So my old lady begins to tell this story, I'm not sure what year it took place, not even sure where they were but I'm assuming they crossed at Laredo, they're hunting the place near there and a fairly large group of them make the trip across. There's a cowboy, complete stranger, about their age, that joins up with them at their table, he's flying solo. When the photographer comes around, Cowboy wants to stay out of the pic, probably married, not supposed to be there, wants to make sure he's off the radar.

So it becomes apparent that the Donkey Show is about to happen, so my old lady tells the photographer he wants a picture confirming penetration. Two Mexicans lead in a pathetic little donkey, they lay him down and one guy is holding the back legs, one guy holding the front legs. This nasty old Mexican ho*r is in tow, and begins to attempt to get the donkey's dong "up" by going down.

I stop the story at this point and say "you mean to tell me there was no cleansing process?" to which my ole lady, without missing a beat says "nope, the donkey didn't make her wash her mouth out or anything".

The Donkey Show takes place, the nasty old ho*r straddles the donkey, my ole lady is walking around to see if he can get close enough to see if it's fake or real, it's real, and goes back to the table. The pic is on the table but the photographer never comes back to collect, complimentary I guess. Cowboy is one of the few still at the table and tells my ole lady, "that's cruelty to animals if I ever seen it".

My ole lady still has the pic. Our theory is that the Donkey Show was real way back in the day, but then it ceased, at least in the border towns across from Del Rio and Laredo from sometime before the late 70's, but then reappeared in the late 90s.
2004 or 2005 I went to the George Paul bull riding, all of my group and I drove across and we all stayed at the Best Western on the Mexico side. Shortly after that the cartels had scared us all away, and I've not been back.

I regularly thank the Lord that there were no cell phone cameras when I was in college.

Who the f*** is your "ole lady"?

Nevermind. I figured it out. Thanks Google.

84HartAg said:

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Final Chapter:
Around 2003, I'm hanging out with my ole lady and some other friends who have been on these cultural exchange trips, and one of them says something about the Donkey show, as if it really happened, so I say "hold up, are you saying y'all actually witnessed a Donkey show?"

So my old lady begins to tell this story, I'm not sure what year it took place, not even sure where they were but I'm assuming they crossed at Laredo, they're hunting the place near there and a fairly large group of them make the trip across. There's a cowboy, complete stranger, about their age, that joins up with them at their table, he's flying solo. When the photographer comes around, Cowboy wants to stay out of the pic, probably married, not supposed to be there, wants to make sure he's off the radar.

So it becomes apparent that the Donkey Show is about to happen, so my old lady tells the photographer he wants a picture confirming penetration. Two Mexicans lead in a pathetic little donkey, they lay him down and one guy is holding the back legs, one guy holding the front legs. This nasty old Mexican ho*r is in tow, and begins to attempt to get the donkey's dong "up" by going down.

I stop the story at this point and say "you mean to tell me there was no cleansing process?" to which my ole lady, without missing a beat says "nope, the donkey didn't make her wash her mouth out or anything".

The Donkey Show takes place, the nasty old ho*r straddles the donkey, my ole lady is walking around to see if he can get close enough to see if it's fake or real, it's real, and goes back to the table. The pic is on the table but the photographer never comes back to collect, complimentary I guess. Cowboy is one of the few still at the table and tells my ole lady, "that's cruelty to animals if I ever seen it".

My ole lady still has the pic. Our theory is that the Donkey Show was real way back in the day, but then it ceased, at least in the border towns across from Del Rio and Laredo from sometime before the late 70's, but then reappeared in the late 90s.
2004 or 2005 I went to the George Paul bull riding, all of my group and I drove across and we all stayed at the Best Western on the Mexico side. Shortly after that the cartels had scared us all away, and I've not been back.

I regularly thank the Lord that there were no cell phone cameras when I was in college.

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Your entire story encapsulates my experience with Mexico (Laredo and Del Rio). I can confirm that the monkey show was a stripper dressed in a gorilla costume that shot silly string when the act was done. I never saw the Donkey show and it wasn't promoted in Acuna. (Always completely grossed out with the drunk hunters who would sit front and center and pay money to go on stage)

I did, however, see a bar in Mexico at the far end of penny lane with a scraggly ass donkey standing outside with a 12-13 year old boy talking about seeing the donkey show.

This damn donkey was so poor looking that my brother and I got pissed and pulled a drunken "Karen" with the guy that sat our group and the bartender. The Feds showed up due to our ruckus and didn't take us to jail for some reason.

When I did get thrown in the stockade at the front of the Laredo Boys town it was with my brother and another friend. We were returning from the penny lane portion of that establishment, where the girls would stand out in front of their rooms with coal fires burning to keep them warm. The Feds start walking behind us and our friend remembers he has a knife in his pocket. He drunkenly slips it out of his pocket and drops it while he is walking. Well, they got us. They couldn't find the knife though and took us to the stockade.

I can understand a lot more Spanish than I can speak and my brother is the same way. They frisk us and find my brother's Copenhagen and my Levi Garret and start accusing us of having MJ. Well our buddy was an MMA fighter who had been training in Brazil. He was stupid fluent in Spanish. I believe he was also cranked up on steroids. He started going crazy. He was speaking Spanish at a rate I couldn't comprehend from my cell. My brother and I were resigned to our fate of being in a Mexican jail forever.

All of a sudden, the Feds come and open our cells, they hand us our tobacco and wallets and motion to the door. Outside is our buddy laughing at our scared asses. He told us he told them that he was dating the Governor's daughter and that they would all be in those cells if they didn't let us go. The Feds were standing on the front step as he walked over and retrieved his knife and flipped them off. We got in a cab and that was the last time I ever went across in Laredo.

TLDR, it was always good to have someone with you that was fluent in Spanish and BS.

I don't get it.

fuzzyfan said:

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I was at that Pat Green show. Big time. My buddy was drinking Carta Blanca 12 oz and I was on the 7 oz Corona. We were drinking 1 to 1. He got drunk. Big time.

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It was a damn good show. I can't remember who the opening act for him was, but that dude put on almost as good a show as Pat did.

Glad I went, though it was touch and go as to whether or not we were going to make it back. But we were young and dumb back then, and didn't think much of getting absolutely housed in another country (even if it was only Mexico) and taking our chances.

We got there Friday, checked in the hotel, then proceeded across the border. Not sure if anybody was playing in the Corona Club that night or not, but got absolutely hammered there. Stumbled around town a bit, hit some other bars, finally ended up being escorted to the border bridge by a couple of federales. We were hammered, but they weren't all that bad about it.

Woke up the next afternoon, went right across the border again. Hit up Maw Crosby's for a while, then whatever that bar across the street from the Corona Club was. I remember they had some damn good music going and the beer was cold, which was nice because it was hot AF out. Hit CC up for the show, and Pat nailed it. Ended up running into a guy I went to school with there so got a chance to hang out with another Ag and had a good time. Not surprisingly, we found our way out to Hunter's Ranch after the show.

My buddy was, shall we say, the type that would plant his meat in anything that was female at the time. I was nearly out of cash at this point and was happy enjoying the show - or so I thought. Group of the working girls came over to solicit their wares and despite me telling them in somewhat decent Mexican that I was broke, one of them proceeds to pretty much give me a handy right there. Not surprisingly, that changed my mood. Buddy has found him the love of his life in a (probably way too young) Mexican stripper/***** and loads her up - at the same time I tell him I'm heading back to Texas for money and will be back. $40 cab ride and an hour later and I'm back. I think he thought I was going to not return, because he was out of cash at this point and worried about his chances of making it back to Del Rio (neither of us actually knew where we really were - only that we were in Mexico at Boy's Town). Things were done, drinks were had. We load up finally at some point and head back to town. Cabbie drops us off far enough from the bridge we had to walk - same damn federales out from the previous night. They weren't as nice to us second go around and we were escorted quickly to the border. I was seriously concerned about getting tossed in a Mexican jail that night. Cash was exchanged before we left.

Woke up the next afternoon to the manager of the hotel beating on the door telling us we had 10 minutes to vacate or pay for another night. One of the single worst hangovers of my entire life. Drive back to Houston felt like it took at least 10 hours - pretty sure we stopped 3 times to puke on the side of the road heading back. I dont' think I drank for a solid 2 weeks after that weekend. Found out later that my buddy ended up doing the growl on his Mexican chica - to this day how he has made it sans any STD's is nothing short of amazing.

I have vague recollections of the Pat Green show. Wasn't it associated with something called Super Bull? I was impressed with the girls from Sul Ross and what the hell ever college is in Uvalde. I believe that our group was intertwined literally with part of their barrel racing team.

This was Spring Break if I recall correctly.

From what I found, it's a Corps reference to a roommate.

Thanks. I guess I forgot that with a bunch of these stories of my own.

They're all the same. Mayhem, debauchery, and barely escaping.

I did lose two firearms at the border one time when we switched pickups at the last moment.

Short story: I did something stupid that cost me two guns and some cash. Spoiler: I made it out alive.

Every knee shall bow and every tongue shall confess

RGV AG said:

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Love Gun said:

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^ I wanna would have liked to party with this that guy!

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Thanks for the thought. FIFY, as luckily I left behind those days early in my life, not to mentioned survived them. I think I finally obtained a moderate level of maturity around 30, although my wife will disagree.

Those were very fun times, but as mentioned previously they did come with a lot of peril. But damm we had some fun.

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We would hang out for about 4 hours and I would have you doing some dumb ****. I just have that affect on people.

The donkey show is a real thing. I have seen it twice, which is one more time than I wanted to. The second time being with a group of guys in BT in Nuevo Laredo who were determined to see it. Me and a buddy sat in the back while the reality of what was going on before them and drank and laughed and subsequently looked away. The best way I can describe it is the following:



That's pretty much exactly how it goes. It's something you can't unsee. It's not even like there is actual true insertion, but they roll this drugged out donkey, lay it on its back and then some troll gets on top and grinds it. There may be clubs where there is actual, um, penetration, but I'm glad I saw the version I was presented.

The first time we saw it the same buddy and I were walking
Out of the bar where the show had happened and some dude jumps out at us in a gorilla costume and asks if we want to see the monkey show and my buddy just yelled "**** you" at him and we left.

These aren't great stories, I know but that part of Mexico leaves so many permanent images in your brain that will live with you forever, and it doesn't matter how drunk you are. The cutout aluminum and cinder block rooms with nothing but a fluorescent light and a bed frame and mattress, street food vendors in BT, and Driving up to the main bar, Pappagallos, I think it is, and realizing you are so far over your 21 year old head. It's a scene directly out of From Dusk til Dawn.

Yes. Nobody will believe this, but I never had sex over there. I was too flabbergasted even at 13 to imagine having intercourse with those women. I saw all of my buddies partake and was completely grossed out by the entire thing. I was the one that wanted to go back to the Corona or Up and Down and feast upon the "Innocent" college girls there.

I was always the tour guide. If anyone was a fan of people watching, those damn places were a study in people watching. It does leave a scar on you. I have been looking for the cap from the Hunter's Club that was given to me there for bringing so many innocent souls to the feast. I cant find it or I would post the picture of it. They sold them behind the bar on the left side as you walked in.

May God have Mercy on my soul.

Im really glad all we had was titteries and an 18yo drinking age in Louisiana. Drunk with tits in your face was as far as a $20 bill could get you at 15.

ahhhhh... TJ. some fun and not so fun memories there between 90-95. We went to a place called the Red Square quite often. One time me and two of my buddies got recruited by a dude in the French Foreign Legion... had no clue to even still existed back then.

Not a border town, but it was in a Foreign country (Philippines) while in a port call. This place made Acuna look like a Baptist Sunday school.

At one of the bars though there was a lady on stage laying naked on her back. The deal is if you could take a dump on her faced you win all the money in the tip jar beside her (you had to place a generous tip in the jar to partake). Anyway my fellow crewman and I are sitting back watching this and other attractions taking place in the bar and I noticed every so often she would take an ice cube and place it in her mouth and then I presume blowing the cold air on to the exit point as people tried to win the money. This went on for what seemed to be all night, until this jarhead came flying out of the bathroom stripping of his pants and skivvies, by passed the line, threw the money in the tip jar, and unloaded a lot of diarrhea on the poor ladies face. He picked up the the tip jar and ran out the door with the rest of his buddies.... lady and other workers in chase. I am not sure how that part of the story ended.

JB!98 said:

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Yes. Nobody will believe this, but I never had sex over there. I was too flabbergasted even at 13 to imagine having intercourse with those women. I saw all of my buddies partake and was completely grossed out by the entire thing. I was the one that wanted to go back to the Corona or Up and Down and feast upon the "Innocent" college girls there.

I was always the tour guide. If anyone was a fan of people watching, those damn places were a study in people watching. It does leave a scar on you. I have been looking for the cap from the Hunter's Club that was given to me there for bringing so many innocent souls to the feast. I cant find it or I would post the picture of it. They sold them behind the bar on the left side as you walked in.

May God have Mercy on my soul.

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Have some friends I grew up with that engaged with the females down there on trips in high school and college. I'd hate to be them and have to live with those memories.

coastalaggie said:

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Not a border town, but it was in a Foreign country (Philippines) while in a port call. This place made Acuna look like a Baptist Sunday school.

At one of the bars though there was a lady on stage laying naked on her back. The deal is if you could take a dump on her faced you win all the money in the tip jar beside her (you had to place a generous tip in the jar to partake). Anyway my fellow crewman and I are sitting back watching this and other attractions taking place in the bar and I noticed every so often she would take an ice cube and place it in her mouth and then I presume blowing the cold air on to the exit point as people tried to win the money. This went on for what seemed to be all night, until this jarhead came flying out of the bathroom stripping of his pants and skivvies, by passed the line, threw the money in the tip jar, and unloaded a lot of diarrhea on the poor ladies face. He picked up the the tip jar and ran out the door with the rest of his buddies.... lady and other workers in chase. I am not sure how that part of the story ended.

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People are freaking nuts!

coastalaggie said:

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Not a border town, but it was in a Foreign country (Philippines) while in a port call. This place made Acuna look like a Baptist Sunday school.

At one of the bars though there was a lady on stage laying naked on her back. The deal is if you could take a dump on her faced you win all the money in the tip jar beside her (you had to place a generous tip in the jar to partake). Anyway my fellow crewman and I are sitting back watching this and other attractions taking place in the bar and I noticed every so often she would take an ice cube and place it in her mouth and then I presume blowing the cold air on to the exit point as people tried to win the money. This went on for what seemed to be all night, until this jarhead came flying out of the bathroom stripping of his pants and skivvies, by passed the line, threw the money in the tip jar, and unloaded a lot of diarrhea on the poor ladies face. He picked up the the tip jar and ran out the door with the rest of his buddies.... lady and other workers in chase. I am not sure how that part of the story ended.

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WTH...

coastalaggie said:

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Not a border town, but it was in a Foreign country (Philippines) while in a port call. This place made Acuna look like a Baptist Sunday school.

At one of the bars though there was a lady on stage laying naked on her back. The deal is if you could take a dump on her faced you win all the money in the tip jar beside her (you had to place a generous tip in the jar to partake). Anyway my fellow crewman and I are sitting back watching this and other attractions taking place in the bar and I noticed every so often she would take an ice cube and place it in her mouth and then I presume blowing the cold air on to the exit point as people tried to win the money. This went on for what seemed to be all night, until this jarhead came flying out of the bathroom stripping of his pants and skivvies, by passed the line, threw the money in the tip jar, and unloaded a lot of diarrhea on the poor ladies face. He picked up the the tip jar and ran out the door with the rest of his buddies.... lady and other workers in chase. I am not sure how that part of the story ended.

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I know for a fact I've seen that story before, and it wasn't here. Reddit?