More Than 500 Likes on a Picture of Chicken – Gorditas Doña Toña, Yet Another Place I Could Review – Not Skipping This Sunday

Day two of the street smelling like shit because the sewers are open. The shit smell filters into the apartment and into my nose.

“It’s the weekend, let the shit run free!”

That should be the CESPT’s slogan (the water commission).

Who knows how long it will take for them to fix it. But for now. My street is filled with shitty water.

City water.

Shitty city water.

City folk.

Sitting. Sitting.

Coffee. Coffee.



Chilaquiles for breakfast when the girlfriend gets home.

Yep. She went to do laundry and then to the supermarket for foodsies.

I’m not helping.

Well… I helped a bit.

Now I’m blogging on a Sunday. I usually skip this day, but it doesn’t feel like a Sunday. Not for me. It is for my girlfriend.

Yesterday, I had the inclination to work. But I didn’t. Girlfriend was off work at 2 pm, and I met her at Mamut around 3 pm.

Beers for breakfast.

And gorditas from Doña Toña. A new chain of gorditas in Tijuana that comes from Monterrey. My girlfriend ate them since she was really young. This is the menu.

I didn’t take pictures of the gorditas. I should have. They are pretty good. Tasty. But super small. It’s okay. They come at a small price of less than $1 each. And they come in a really nice package. I got the revoltijo and the cochinita pibil. Definitely will be going back for more.

I could easily write a review about it. I still have no desire to work with that food editor…

Coffee Coffee Coffee.

Breakfast soon.

The apartment still smells like shit because of the river of caca flowing down the street.

After beers in Mamut, there was a game I wanted to watch. Gallos was playing against Monarcas. I wanted Nelson, my girlfriend didn’t.

We ended up going to the shit bar that is El Copeo. My girlfriend people watched while I watched the game.

It was a great game!

Well played by Gallos.

2-1 Gallos won at the end.

Well deserved.

Great game.

She got mad at me because I was talking shit about how shitty the bar is. And I feel like she likes to argue just to argue. The shit bar is shitty. It’s just nice that they have televisions and I requested a game and they played it. It’s also nice that beer is less than a $1 each. So stupid cheap. But it’s still a very shitty bar.

She got silly drunk.

And she likes to bother me while silly drunk. I couldn’t stand it. I went my own way and let her be.

She came home and passed out before around 6 pm. I went to Nelson to calm down and came home and found her sleeping. I watched more soccer, fell asleep for awhile, woke up at 9:30 pm, and she was still sleeping heavily.

I left the house to go to my friend’s party at 11 pm. She was still sleeping and I knew she wouldn’t want to go to the party, so I just let her sleep.

She texted me a few minutes after I arrived at the party. I told her she wasn’t missing much.

Party was alright. People did ask me about my girlfriend. But meh.

It was a small party.

And it suddenly, for some weird reason, around 1 am, it turned into like a shitty rave. Someone that I didn’t know decided it was time to play electronic music super loud and show off his DJ skills. Nope. Not for me.

I was hungry. So I decided it was tacos and bed time.

Tacos el Rey.

Delicious mother fucking tacos El Rey.

And bed.

A picture of the Crack Shack that I posted on Instagram with my @TijuanaAdventure account got featured in the restaurant’s Instagram (@GetCrackShacked) and it now has over 500 likes!


If I was a hot girl with titties and ass, 500 likes would be offensive. It wouldn’t be nearly enough.

This is the picture.

More and more I strive for a position as a social media especialist.

It’s so weird that that’s a job.

It’s weird that I want it. has not yielded many results.

I never heard back from that promising job that was offering $25 an hour plus expenses. Maybe I jinxed myself. Maybe they are still getting candidates.

I really hope I get it. But chances look slim.

I have nothing else but keep on writing. Keep on taking pictures. Keep on looking for jobs.

And though it’s Sunday, I already feel like my week has started. I really need to work because FUCK… I basically took over a week off just because of a lack of motivation.

Looking for jobs.

Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.


Girlfriend is making salsas and cooking.

The kitchen is all sorts of colorful and clean. And it smells good.

WTF?! has a delivery job for Pizza Hut for $25 an hour?!

That can’t be right…

Oh yeah. It says “potential to make $25+ with tips and others.”

Oh yeah. Not that great.

Not sure what we are doing today.

She has been wanting to go bowling since forever ago.

So perhaps that.


On Sundays. One of the busiest days and I hate people. But it sounds like it will be alright. We have coupons for it to be cheaper. So we are probably going bowling.

We need to reserve the Airbnb in Oaxaca soon. Holy shit does time go by really fast.

The end of the year is near.

The end of the word vomit is near.

Two long months of separation await at the end of the year.

I am not a huge fan of how the year will end.

Goals accomplished?!

Not really.

I still do not have a job.

I have a sweet sweet gig with the Reader as a photographer, but that’s not nearly enough. I can still write tons of articles for them, but that requires a lot of self-discipline and inspiration as a freelance writer that I’m afraid I do not have.

Music is still way in the background. I brought it out some more, but not nearly enough. I’ve been writing a math rock song. I jammed with Brozo. I am more inspired to play. But my skills are not what they used to be and neither is my passion for music.

All in all. I can still do way more and I don’t.

I have a relationship which is crazy since for more than 30 years I managed to never really have one. Well, not to have a turbulent one. One that I was so convinced on.



Over 1,000 words.

I can stop typing stupid bullshit.

Tomorrow celebrity Monday. I’m not sure who to pick. But I’ll definitely be doing it and not skipping it.



Because I really can’t afford to not work like I did. Fuck I can be fucking lazy.


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