Red Hot!!!

God has blessed Michael Moore with a very clear voice today. And God has blessed me today as well. I met Liz Taylor's best friend living in Puerto Vallarta. He seems to like me.

I certainly made a stir at the PV Writers' Group meeting -- even signed on to be on the committee planning a big regional writers conference next February. Tomorrow, I might stage some one-man street theater in front of the theater Liz gave the town of PV. They've respected her so much they show ONLY PORN THERE NOW!!!!!!!!

HOW DARE THEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am going to carve (metaphorically), some new assholes in this town and make it what it is MEANT to be. I don't give a SHIT how much the current Presidente AND POLICE of this City support the drug dealers. THAT IS NOT MY PROBLEM, but it will soon be El Presidente's problem, BIG TIME!!!!!

I'm seeing jail in El Presidente de Puerto Vallarta's future (unless, of course, I'm wrong. I have been wrong on rare occasions, and I always make amends, when I'm wrong).

THERE'S NO STOPPING ME NOW!!! Whether Liz can join our festivities for Tennessee Williams' 100th birthday celebration in Puerto Vallarta/Playa Mismaloya or not. I've already talked to two of the top quality restaurants in each town about hosting key events. They are most excited.

Meanwhile, my landlord went into my room while I was out late yesterday. He was kind enough to leave a sweet bread (not sweetbread), which is excellent. I think he wanted to pick up the electric bill to pay for it, but I had it with me, expecting to pay it when I got a small amount of money, but I forgot and had obligations for the money. I'll pay it Monday.

But missing from my apartment is my black-leather clad noteboook, which I took out of my pack right before leaving my apartment yesterday. It has multiple color copies of my passport (stolen by drug traffickers from my car before I got to the Mexican border, but being replaced, as I type), my Georgia drivers license (stolen by the thief who also stole my watch about 10 days ago, right after Enrique Rojas -- www.artinmassage.com , henry-red@hotmail.com -- tried to murder me with his fists and feet on the command of Hector-the-Engineer's godson, Rubén Fernando Gómez Merino, gmezmerino@gmail.com .

I have other copies.

But what they were looking for was the original of the document I published here a week or so ago: the contract between Fernando and me that implicates Hector as well (and someone else, too). I still haven't gotten it translated to see what it really is, but the original was spirited out of this area some time ago.

I'm not stupid.

I'm also not stupid enough to not notice that my briefcase was broken into -- the one with the 3-digit combination locks. They even put some kind of white color and roughed up the surface on the correct combination on the right-side lock to be sure I noticed they had "broken the all-too-easy code. LOL. (I had been into that case three days ago, and knew/know what condition the lock mechanisms were in.)

I don't blame landlord Mauricio. I believe they set him up to look like he did it, hoping I'd carve Mauricio a new asshole. They are pissed at him because he now treats me with respect.

Scott