I don’t have time for this shit.
I keep telling myself.
Then I find lulls and decide to do nothing.
I’m not sure when I’ll have the time to write the second Tijuana Adventure book, but I want to finish it before the year ends.
I’m so fucking busy.
I just got another deposit for another tour and another email for another tour. Too many tours. Too many social media.
And I got offered another social media gig. For another Mexican restaurant in San Diego.
And I did a photoshoot for a magician. The photoshoot didn’t include a video, but I ended up doing a video. I do a video of fucking everything all the fucking time.
Is this me burning out already?
The money is coming in. Little by little. And I spend it immediately, so I’m still broke.
Burning out? Or making it.
I’m not sure.
Shit is wild. I’m not sure if it’s Tijuana or if it’s my life. But shit is wild.
I miss her. I miss us.
But I knew this would happen to me. I knew I was going to spiral into Matingas world. And you don’t belong in this world. I miss you. I miss us.
I have virtually sold all my Saturdays from today until September.
This morning, I got the deposit for a Friday because my Saturday was already busy.
I still have July 11th open. But two groups want July 10th.
Yesterday I got the deposit for August 8th in cash.
August 15th is open… and then I go to Minneapolis for Woody’s wedding. Ohhh god… I’ve never been this excited for Minneapolis.
But I am.
I miss Minnesota.
Woody and his soon-to-be wife have partied with me in Tijuana. I’m not sure what he is doing for his bachelor party. At least there haven’t been many requests for bachelor party tours this year. Those kill me.
I used to play soccer with Woody. And tennis. I need more sport. I’ve been working out like an old man in my living room with Apple Fitness. It seems as ridiculous as when people worked out in front of their TV with Richard Simmons. That’s me now. Doing Kickboxing with some dude named Jamie and two other instructors behind him.
I sweat my balls off.
Then I finish it off with some push-ups and other core exercises. And shower time.
That whole paragraph was disgusting.
I hate controversial shit, and I did a controversial video. Here we go again.
I got World Cup fever.
I fucking hate FIFA. Qatar World Cup ruined it for me. What was that shit?!
And this one… This one seems even worse.
But I can’t help it. I love the game. I love watching underdogs win. I love seeing countries coming together for a bit. Even though the world is in fucking shambles…
It hasn’t been a great World Cup, but so far… not bad. Not bad at all. And I can feel the momentum building and more exciting shit to come.
But wtf FIFA?!
Now soccer is played in four quarters instead of two halves?!
My immediate reaction was I HATE THIS SHIT. And then after a few matches I was like… oh cool… A little break so I can focus on work again.
And what’s the point of adding so many teams and still having 2/3 of third places in each group still advance?!
This is one fucking messy world.
I’m sure if you read blogs from my past… I keep saying the same thing. The world just keeps getting crazier.
Or perhaps it’s just me.
I want to go to Vietnam before the year ends.
To celebrate the publication of my book.
That’s the plan.
This summer I already sold out all my tours… I want to publish my book by September…
I’m somehow going to pull it off.
While juggling all my social media stuff. And the semi-fame. That each day becomes even more real and in my face.
I’m sad, anxious, and nervous about the future. But no one can tell. Just the few that read this. On the outside and on social media, I’m this drunken persona living large.
I’m about done reading Kitchen Confidential. Yep. I’m a huge fan of Bourdain like many others… yet never read his book. I’m sure there are a lot like that.
Good book. I enjoyed it. I only have the last chapter to read. I’ll read that last chapter and give it back to Jo of Tredici Pizza. Thanks, Jo!
Then I’ll finish writing this blog.
Then I have to do a shit ton of posting. Sigh.
And then… World Cup. So much World Cup. I wish I didn’t care. But I do.
Well…
That’s that. Kitchen Closed. Last chapter of Kitchen Confidential. I get it.
The most recent Amazon review compares me to Bourdain. It reads like this:
Amazon Customer
Reviewed in the United States on April 11, 2026
Very entertaining for anybody interested in TJ. The author’s writing style reminds me very much of Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain. Thoroughly enjoyed reading it over the course of one day.
I appreciate it, Amazon Customer. When people compare me to Bourdain, I like to joke and say I will also kill myself at 61. That’s the age my mom also died.
But do not worry about me. I’m not suicidal like I used to be when I was a teen. And my teenage years extended until my early thirties. I still wake up or sometimes go to bed thinking… “wouldn’t it be nice just to end it all?” For fuck sakes… I’m still a fucking teen.
But seriously. Do not worry about me.
I love food. Bourdain lived for it. The way he writes about it reminds me of the way I feel about music. I will never be a fucking chef. I enjoy cooking. Ooooeee, do I love cooking.
I’ve been fucking with scallops lately. Found a huge bag of 50+ Chinese farm-raised scallops for $6.99 at Grocery Outlet. I ain’t going to defrost and eat those fuckers raw. I’m going to cook and experiment. I once fucked up expensive scallops, and it was a huge regret. I can fucked these ones up with no ragrets. And so far… No ragrets. I’ve cooked them twice, and they were great.
I would never be a chef. I have princess hands. They’ve never seen hard labor in their life (well, just a handful of times and I didn’t last). I play fucking classical guitar. I manicure my nails.
Chefs suffer and work hard. I write and try to take pretty pictures.
I can’t complain.
Yet I always complain. Who Bourdain dedicated the book to is on point with my life right now. I’m sorry.
This blog needs a picture, and then I’m done. Thanks for reading.
PICTURE.
Oh god. I forgot about unexpected Thursday with Chad. That’s us in Zacaz around midnight. 10 am drinking at Tropics because the World Cup started and Chad visited Tijuana. We lived it like we lived it back in 2016. Caguamas and tacos. All day. All night. Except we are old now. By 1 am we were both done. And I’m still in the same fucking apartment.
Oh yeah. And I have a brand of clothing called, like my tours: Tijuana Adventure. I made new shirts and barely promoted them. I have a new design coming out soon and barely have time to do the promotion video. I have to go to the dentist to get a molar fixed and do a video for her because she’s doing it for a low price.
And oh god… I’m fucking forty.
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