Expats Come In All Shapes And Sizes.........

The IS the end you know. MazReal and all its journalists and hangers-onners and slaves and stevedores and rent boys and female sharp-shooters and chauffeurs and gay body builders are de-camping and heading back to Europe to earn some real money. Not plastic stuff like you get get in hot humid countries but real wonga made out of rags like you get in temperate climates.

Our shiny, slippery plastic stuff has run out and we have to get off our asses and do something called 'work'. The word that strikes fear into the minds of most people and the end product of which is dosh, loot, spondulics, green stuff, filthy lucre which the government takes away in tax that goes to support our wonderful health service and education so everyone may have access to medicine and learning.

Some people call it Socialism and that is another word that strikes fear into the minds of most people living north of this Mexican border whereas the rest of the world see it as a nice word. A word that is designed to help other less fortunate people, people who people again north of the border would term lazy people desirous of hand-outs so they don't have to get off their collective asses to work. Anyway I cannot imagine any of those naughty Tea Party-type people with those naughty extreme and selfish thinking minds living here in Mazatlán south of the north border.

Tijuana is the border crossing of yore that many expats would have crossed but not before taking advantage of all that that fine city has to offer before passing into conservative Protestant America.

I have always been wary of living amongst expat communities as I was raised and spent much of my early life in one as a result we tended to avoid the community or at least take time sounding out people whose views and ideas are compatible. So the longer we have been here the more we have ventured out and seen what a great bunch of people live here. There are individuals we avoid like the plague by hiding our faces, wearing false beards, ducking into doorways and sprinting to other side of the street to get away from but they are far and few between and generally only appear with the cool weather.

These are the stories of twelve of the varied and colourful members of expat community we have residing in this fine city of Mazatlán. You may have even seen them or partied with them or drank with them.

Here's one of them - The short-arsed, hairy bearded lady originally from Benson Arizona. George Jenson is her name. She is always hanging out on street corners nonchalantly leaning on things and just banging on about this and that and throwing vicious accusations around most of it selfishly untrue and thoughtlessly made up. Luckily she is only seen here in winter months otherwise I would have hounded her out of town to live a life of sleaze below decks on a shrimp boat . After a few months at sea she would look like Charlize Theron to a grubby shrimp sailor.


more expat shenanigans after the jump

Here our roving snapper snapped a departing image of an expat dressed for the sea taking the ferry and his underarm baggage back to the East Coast. As many a single expat has a lady or man in every port he/she has to take the slow boat home hopping around the coast of Latin America passing by Tierro Del Fuego saying a fond farewell to all their husbands and wives in those sleazy ports non of whom know the others exist. Well they damn well hope they don't otherwise they are in deep shit. Unless of course they take on-board the religion of Mr. Mitt Romney so may at least have an argument in court. The unwanted babies are mostly manhandled discreetly away where they live a life on the ocean wave gutting fish and slicing up whales on Japanese Whalers who use the meat for research into how good it tastes.

Expats come in all shapes and sizes and mind sets as we said. Many men wear pony tails and the classic vest and short pant and sandals to every occasion whether it opera or a funeral; many have pets and walk them on the malacón. One I saw was taking his Siamese cat for a walk. The poor cat obviously terrified by the dogs and cars so he was having to drag it along the pavement. The urge to strike him down and give him a good thrashing was strong but resisted as we all have to live together in harmony. This lady is going to have to wait a long time for her rather raggedly pet snake to cock its scale and take a piss against the hydrant. As you can see she has hoicked up her skirt and is tapping her foot with impatience as she seems ready to go herself.

Many sno-birds return to their expansive ranches to plow the fields and sing rousing sea shanties as their modern tractors slice trenches into the Lord's own earth. Here are a couple of sno-birds are doing just that whilst keeping alive their love for the benevolent leader with a picture of the loving communist revolutionary dictator US president George W Stalin firmly strapped to the chimney. The legless serf out back is making sure all the wonderful chemicals are evenly distributed into God's own turf.

This is what happens when many a good protestant expat from the north spends too much time in Mazatlán, they get sucked into the local church after taking a well earned breather in the religious building to get away from the heat for a few moments. The iconography and incense and dolls in glass cases and cool contemplative surroundings induce them into wanting to spend more time there.They soon take a downward spiral from the stresses of having to attend church six times a day listening to all those droning sermons advising them how to live their lives and hand over their money to the world's richest corporation headquartered in a small state of their own making where they pay no taxes. It is not unusual to see groups of ultra-religious women huddled in groups in the sleazier parts of this city drinking, smoking and making a nuisance of themselves before being prodded at bayonet point to attend the service.

Come back Jimmy and Tammy and Ted Haggart we need your pulpit expertise to reeducate these poor lost sheep to return to the good protestant fold and remould them back into wholesome members of society again.

 This is a perfect example of the loving expat couples we have here; happy and deeply in love. This couple of 70 year old retirees with wonderful skin jobs from an expensive Palm Springs surgeon gaze deeply into each others eyes with fixed botoxed smiles permanently stamped on their dials. As we all know that old people pee a lot, here the man has to stay immersed and doesn't that expression and tensed gripping hands indicate that what he is doing is not just relaxing in the water? Hey mister, we don't swim in your toilet so you don't pee in our pool!

It can sometimes get a tad cold in the Mazatlán's winters and our photographer caught this expat originally from Lethbridge Canada dressed for the chill outside a private view of Pablo Picante's paintings at La Looney Tunes gallery in Centro.

Mazatlán is famous for its sport fishing fleet and many a Hollywood star and non star taking a weekend break from their Phoenix Az. desk has paid money to kill beautiful wild beasts of the sea so we can all eat dried marlin in our huevos remodelleados con secos bonitas animales del mar y dos mil chillies con zacatecas frigoles y scrag end of deep fried pork skin. Here an expat from Whitehorse Yukon is about to bait up her hook to catch a Sperm Whale off El Caimanero a few klicks south of here.

This is a third generation expat, Kohein Tzaddik, originally from the East European and Baltic state immigrant slums of Bisbee Az. outside her sauna down Mariano Escobedo. No one likes a good sauna including me, so developing a bad sauna is just good business sense. This sauna is only open during the heat of the summer when the heat and humidity encountered in an enclosed windowless hovel does just as well and makes for the perfect place to sit and relax and sweat the booze out those old pores. She had to open in wealthy centro as there is a lot of competition in most other poor barrios where everyone lives in the conditions just described and they would allow you into their indescribably hot hovels for nothing. Being nice people as they are.

We have our groups of eccentric in the community and these two aren't them, however there is a growing craze developing for the soon to be Rio Brazil Olympic sport of  "Two Idiots Hitting a Ball Of Elastic Bands Down The Dusty Mazatlán Streets With Sword Stick Canes". This pair originally from Horse Crotch Alberta Canada have yet to convince the rest of us un-sporty lazy expats to mount our bicycles and partake. These two crazies won M magazines sports personalities of the year after that other bald fellow who straps a bicycle on each foot and goes speeding up and down the Malecón chanting "pain is gain" then immediately dropping down dead from the intense pain and the little gain. I know the mantra "Pain is Gain" was used by mad totalitarian dictators wanting to take over the world and use you as cannon fodder.

Here is an example of two wonderfully eccentric expats from Moose Trap somewhere in the cold northern tundras of that land of fairies. Pipe-smoking Jim 'Knees' Moriarty and his lunatic mate Samual Pepys the diarist show how they got here from Moose Trap International dirt road airport. Following the southward flight path of the migrating Swallow Tail Swallow they flapped their way here stopping at the lush migratory truck stops of the Not So Great South Road that goes from Cloud Cuckoo Land to Barsoom in the Land of Zimianvia on the Great Bight of Talonjab.

What happened in fact was the bearded fellow on the back looking the split image of a Russian Tzar used his servant, the man below, as a carrier and he flapped and whipped while his trusty manservant walked. They now reside in the sanitarian taken care of by nuns on Calle Hector Gonsalez Guevera in Centro. They can occasionally be seen taking a bite and sticking food in their ears at the M restaurant of the year, Leone de Montana, on the Malecón.

Housing suitable for expats in Centro has become such a rarity that they are forced to build underground in the parks and back gardens of other expats who have taken advantage of this fact and are selling chucks of their palatial back gardens for many trillions of dollars. As expats don't want to live anywhere but Centro so they can be amongst their their own, they will go to any extremes not to buy cheaper properties amongst the locals for instance in Castillo, that barrio, near the smelly dried shrimp factory on the way to the airport or those wonderful properties of squatter homes lakeside the mosquito infested swamp off Circunvalación.

Here an expat from Alligator Alley Mississippi is moving in to his underground dirt house in the expansive garden of an expat off Calle Sixto Osuna.

Expat communities are a great place to interact, develop new friends and hold weekly clubs and do-good meeting. Here are the members of two clubs: top picture, those of the Jane Austin book club having a little exercise before getting stuck into discussing whether Colin Firth playing Darcy was more sexy than Ernest Borgnine's interpretation.

Here's is the ladies branch of the Society of Inhumane Treatment of All Living Animals, Tuna Packers and Chilli Pickers. Once a year they step out in their finest undergarments to raise money for the Society otherwise known in its shortened form - SOIHTOALATPCP.

And lastly this is the men's Society of Backbenders. This one is only for the he-men expat contingency. The idea is to break down barriers and nearly break backs as this develops a strong bong or bond of comradery. They have to nearly break their counterpart's back. That's it and of course relish the opportunity to wear a tight black thingey. Luckily as we all pay a small sum into IMSS they can use the system to repair the damages caused by going that little bit too far.

 And lastly, this is not an expat but an excuse to put in a picture of my all time favourite actor, Angelica Huston sexily smoking a cigarette.

Adios but there may be time for one more blog before we pack up the ol' Studebaker Shooting Break and drive into the Mexican sunset and into the temperate climate of post orgasmic Olympic London.