First Monday of the month. I paid rent. It makes me sad.
It should make me happy. I have shelter for another month… but it just gives me big sad.
Money comes, money goes. I got my first paycheck from my new job managing social media for two restaurants… and it’s gone. Rent and the basic monthly bills are my paycheck.
I didn’t do that many tours, so I don’t have that much extra money.
I didn’t sell that many shirts, so I don’t have that much extra money.
But there were some tours and merch sold. So I still have money to eat and drink within reason.
I got new followers. I got new likes. And the more of those, the more my shit grows.
I made a new business deal.
My pictures will be hanging in the hallways of a new hotel set to open in downtown Tijuana. They will be for sale in the hotel. I have to work on that. Pictures like this one, but better:
I got called for jury duty. I got to explain to them that I don’t live in the county anymore. Not even in the same country. I’m sure they will accept my excuse and waive my jury duty. If not… I don’t mind doing jury duty… It’s just soooo damn early and so far away from where I live. So yeah.. I won’t do it because of that.
When I was a kid, I liked Jury Duty, the movie with Pauly Shore. I liked Pauly Shore in general… what a fucking weirdo.
I’m sure the movies did not age well. I also liked In The Army Now, Biodome, Encino Man, and more…
In The Army Now has Andy Dick in it… so it definitely did not age well. It has a 12% on Rotten Tomatoes… I don’t care. I still love that movie.
Look… at… how… many… ellipsis… I… use.
AI is not that advanced enough to replicate my word vomit. But in a few years… In a few years, it will. Fuck me.
It was a horrible Sunday. I lost my NFL parlay bet by a lot. My fantasy team lost by a little. I lost in the worst way possible. Second time this season that the system says I have a 99% chance of winning, and it flips in the end.
Fucking Brock Bowers.
Then I lost the three games of DotA I played at night. Shit Sunday.
Fucking loser Sunday.
But it was a great Saturday and a great Friday.
Fucking great Halloween.
Halloween 2025. All the pictures are on my PATREON!
This blog needs a picture. And if you read me, you know this blog doesn’t have space. A screenshot is not heavy. A screenshot of my Patreon. Subscribe to my Patreon. And to my Substack.
To look at all the pics, click here.
This is the text:
There are no pictures of me this Halloween…
And I made my own costume, and it wasn’t bad!
The original plan was to be just a door labeled 512, and my girlfriend was to be Selena. That didn’t pan out. There are no pictures of us together… we sorta went our separate ways. Then got back together, got tacos, and went home.
I took over 500 pictures, and my flash ran out of battery. When that happened… I ran out of battery. I’m sure I missed a lot. A ton of parties. More costumes. And more pictures.
But 500 is a lot.
Edited down to 280+.
It was fucking PACKED. Way more people than last year. And that shit is going to continue to get wilder. The new Revu makes the whole thing brighter. Flash is not needed as much as before.
It was my first time taking the Sony camera. I sold the Canon months ago. Sony camera. Canon flash. I was dressed as a flash that flashes.
I cut a box in the shape of a camera flash and painted it. Had a red cloth covering the face area and the soft box area, white, and the flash went through.
I couldn’t SEE SHIT, so all pictures are just blind shots.
My girlfriend was a cute Beanie Baby bear. Not a couple costumes at all. But it worked. It was another great Halloween in Tijuana.
These are the results.
Halloween Tijuana tradition was successful. Like always, I feel like I could have done better. I could have taken more pictures. I could have joined more parties.
But no one pays me for this shit. And that was already a lot. 8 albums of Halloween in Tijuana is a lot.
On Saturday, I had a tour. They booked way in advance, so I spent the deposit months ago. The rest of the payment was cash. That’s the cash I have for the week.
It was a fun and short tour. I saw them at 2:00 pm by the border, and they were already drunk!
First dive bar, they wanted to keep drinking… no eating, just drinking. Second bar, the main guy ate a scorpion, great content. More drinking. Not that much history, just a lot of drinking…
And by 5 pm, they were pretty drunk. One was wasted beyond control. He peed where he was not supposed to pee… but fortunately, nothing happened.
They will throw you in Tijuana jail for doing that. None of my clients has ended up in Tijuana jail, and I don’t intend for them to do so.
We ate at La Cevicheria Nais, but the drunkest guy only had 5 oysters and called it a meal. Though my tours usually last longer than 6 hours, we cut this one short. The guys were too drunk and they took a taxi back to the border at around 6:30 PM.
They were 12 years younger than me. I can’t tell age, or I don’t like to think about it. It felt like hanging out with regular people… until they got really drunk and I was like… oh yeah… Your 20s. That’s what you do.
Or at least I did. I used to get way more fucked up. Or I’m just a professional alcoholic.
That’s how November started. With that tour.
I don’t have any more tours for the rest of the year. The social media manager gig is not enough money to survive. I need more tours. I need to sell more merch. I need more gigs.
Back to photography.
More influencer shit.
Money here and there. Drops into the bucket that never gets full. Eventually, it will fucking pour. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself.
I need to get breakfast, get cat food (I tried cooking him food and will do again), and more morning shit. Then finish this blog. Then get back to work.
Cat food in Mexico is expensive. I spent $2 in a small can while in the US, that’s like 80 cents. Thankfully, I have my brother who does me the favor of picking up cat food del otro lado.
I watched John Oliver to remind myself that it’s not just me who has a depressing life, it’s most of the world. I’ve never used SNAP benefits in my life, though I qualify for them because I’m below the poverty level. I hope things get better for all… but it seems like they won’t.
I’m not an optimist.
My godfather passed away. I haven’t talked to him in years. I knew he had dementia. He was always very supportive of my guitar playing. He loved classical guitar.
I need to call my godmother… but I’m horrible at sad things. And on the phone.
I doooo private tours in Tijuana.
And sometimes I have a lot of tours booked. And sometimes I have nothing. I have nothing. I need to make a video of this last tour, and maybe I’ll get new clients. But it’s been slow. Very slow.
At least I got that side gig. I need more.
I’m not sure what I’ve got for the rest of the week. Or the month. Or the year. Do the social media gig. That’s one thing. There needs to be way more.
I need to do laundry.
I need to do the dishes.
I need to clean the kitty litter.
I need to clean the house.
I need to cook dinner.
Fucking daylight savings time. America. Stop. It’s not fucking needed. Mexico got rid of it. Tijuana follows it because of the border. But it is dumb as fuck.
It’s going to be dark by 5 pm now.
Great fucking job.
I have to manually start my washer’s last tumble cycle for my clothes to not be soaked. And people think I’m privileged. My washer is old as fuck and barely works. But it does the job.
Halfway done with laundry.
Halfway done with cleaning the houses.
Dishes are done. I need to start dinner. I need to clean myself and work out more.
November… Let’s FUCKING GO!
After typing that… I think my washer is gone for good.
It stopped spinning completely.
Oh well.
Fuck.
Thanks for reading. Keep going. The year is almost over. And then I’m 40. Fuck.
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Matingas 
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