Bob and I were down in sunny and warm Boca Chica in the Dominican Republic two winters ago. Boca Chica had the reputation of being a real party town so we thought we aught to visit it and see for ourselves.

So we get there and the resort itself is really nice. It's situated about a mile or two from downtown Boca Chica and about three blocks from the beach. This was our first trip outside of Canada or the U.S. and we were a little taken aback by our surroundings. Boca Chica itself looked like a cross between Haiti and a mini Tijuana. There are guards everywhere around the resort with 12 gauge shotguns to protect the tourists and everything is walled in to keep the locals out.

Of course all of this did not deter the Goofy Canucks! Oh no, walls and shotguns are there to protect the ordinary tourists, and are not meant for us. Secure in the knowledge that our beginner's Spanish and charming good looks would keep us out of trouble we decided to leave the compound and venture into the city proper after sundown.

The first person we run into is a sidewalk artist trying to sell us something or other. We tried to talk some Spanish with him but drew a complete blank (our beginner's Spanish was a little rustier than we thought) luckily for us he was Haitian and spoke decent French. We gave him a few bucks and he gave us some advice for surviving town. The most important thing he told us was to put your money in your sock so no one could pickpocket you. We'll that seem's like good advice right Bob? I thought so anyways and put my money away but Bob had ideas of his own. He had on one of those nifty bush shirts with a pocket that zips so he sticks his money in there figuring it will be safe.

So we continue on into downtown and notice that there are several hookers on every street corner propositioning us in a most lewd manner (I was offended, no really I was) but we turned them all down (honest Mom we did, I didn't even look). So here I am talking away to Bob who is walking right behind me when I hear a muffled scream for help from way behind me. I turn and ask Bob "what was that" only there is no sign of Bob. All I can see about a half block back is two arms flailing around in the air surrounded by at least two dozen women of the night. So I run back into the crowd and find poor Bob with his pants undone, shirt half ripped off yelling for help in the middle of the pile. We finally manage to get ourselves clear of the mob and I ask Bob what happened? Well it turns out he started talking to one (just being polite mom) and next thing you know there were a dozen of them all around him pulling his clothes off. So he tried to remain clothed and started yelling. So we start back on our way to the club where we were headed and Bob notices his zipper is open on his shirt. Guess what? His money is gone and there isn't a hooker to be found on the street behind us. Turns out the whole striping him thing was a distraction while they robbed him.

Valuable lesson learned: Always keep your money in your sock (if they get down to your socks they deserve every penny)

I was once again in the warm and sunny Dominican Republic a year ago. This time on the North side of the island in Peurto Plata. On the third day of my vacation, I started drinking some of those Carribean drinks (you know the ones that taste like kool-aid, but hit like Mike Tyson on a steroid rage) real early in the morning and kept it up all day long. By the time early evening rolled around I think it is safe to say that I was pretty much in the bag (Canuck slang for drunker than a hootowl).

So being pretty well lit and looking for something to do I decided to go see the show the hotel's staff was putting on. This was a RIU hotel (fairly big) and it was a rainy night outside so the auditorium was pretty much packed. Well the show of the night was the Mr. Riu contest where four guys from the resort would vie for the title of Mr. Riu. Sounded like it could be fun so I decided to grab a chair and catch the show.

Of course I was one of the guys who get picked to go up and vie for the Mr.Riu title (never should have sat in the front row). So what fun and interesting things do they have planed for us up there? Well we began with the easy stuff, how fast can you drink a beer through a straw while holding a push-up? How many push-ups can you do with a large Danish woman spread eagle on your back? From there we went to the more humiliating ones like the Dress as a woman (in my case A pink leotard,blond wig, and some rubber falsies) and go dance and lip synch a song, the erotic striptease (thank god I had decided to wear boxers that night instead of following the usual let them roam free strategy), and the ever popular dirty dance with a member of the audience while still dressed in drag (poor little German fellow). The poor bugger next to me from Scotland wasn't wearing his johnies and gave the audience quite a show when he jumped up on a chair and his skirt rode up.

So after about an hour of fun and interesting games like these a winner was chosen by audience applause (of course I won, that will be 10 lashes for even having to ask) and for all of my troubles I am presented with the grand prize of a silver chain and a bottle of 191proof rum (which got me in trouble in the first place).

Pictures are available on the pictures page.

Valuable Lessons learned.
1) Never ever ever sit in the front row of any show (especially a comedy show).
2) No matter how much fun they say it will be, do not get on stage
3) Always listen to Momma and wear clean skivies
4)Getting mostly naked and humiliating yourself in front of nearly everyone at your resort is a great way to meet girls

This story takes place a day after the last one. Still in the Dominican Republic and feeling really good about all the attention I was getting from the previous nights show, I agreed when I was asked to return in tonights show. I guess the Animators took a liking to me (entirly understandable it happens all the time) and thought I would be funny in the Men VS. Women show. To make a long story short I got up on stage with 3 other guys and we played various games against 4 girls.

One of the last games we had to play was the card game. On a table in front of me was a whole deck of cards. Behind me in a line were my three team members. The objective was to pass the cards down the line to a table at the oppisite end of the stage without using our hands or teeth. We had to do it on lung power alone by sucking on the back of the card and holding it in the air long enough for the person behind to do the same (you can already see where this is going right).

Well the guy behind me was from Scotland and this was a special night for him. He was getting married tomorrow and this was his last night as a bachelor. After doing about 15 cards the old lungs were starting to lose sucking power (see what smoking does to you kids) and as the poor Scotsman was trying to get his lips stuck to the card it fell and we kissed each other full on the lips. Looking back, it was pretty funny but at the time we were both mortified. The audience thought it was great and for the rest of my stay there I got smootchy faces from everyone there. The best part came the next day when his bride came up to me and told me that I was the last person her new husband had kissed as a single man!

Valuable lessons learned:
1)Scotsman are lousy kissers.
2)Stubble hurts so, you guys out threre, try shaving okay.

When we were little Canucks we were members of the Venturers. It's like a Boy Scouts for older kids. Our clubhouse used to be a Caboose (yes a real caboose) that our leader had on his property. We would often camp out in the caboose overnight in the winter when it was just to damn cold to camp outside.

One night I had a great idea for a practical joke to play on Bob. Now Bob is a pretty heavy sleeper and he was snoring away with his mouth wide open. So I went over to the fridge and grabbed a hot dog. Moving up over him I until I was kneeling over his face I slowly started sliding the hotdog into his mouth while holding it with my hands. Remember that it is pitch black in the caboose at the time, so when Bob awoke with a start, he couldn't see much besides my body kneeling over him and all he could feek was something round and meaty sliding into his mouth as heard me gently moaning. So what does Bob do? He promtly bites down hard on the hot dog severing the tip and almost chokes on it trying to spit it out. In the meantime I start screaming for effect and wake up the rest of the guys. Oh My God, you should have seen the look on his face when the lights finally came on and he saw what I had done. I don't think I have ever laughed that hard since. To this day he still doesn't sleep all that soundly around me anymore.

Valuable lessons learned:
1)Hot dogs can be a valuable component in any practical joke
2)Payback is a bitch (read the next story)

After my practical joke Bob had to have his revenge. It came unexpectedly when we were camping up in a local park. I don't know how he did it but between Bob and the other guys in the group (even our leader was in on it , the dog) they convinced me we had to empty the outhouses by hand with a shovel.

Valuable lessons learned:
1)Never trust anybody, they are all out to get you
2)They don't empty outhouses, they dig new ones.

We were in Cancun Mexico when we got the shopping bug. We decided to head down to a "quaint" little marketplace in downtown Cancun and see what kind of junk we could find (no trip is complete without junk to take home to impress your friends and neighbors). We grabbed a bus and headed on down to the Kiwi market with a couple of cool gals from the U.S.

We get to the market and find it is a junk haven. Anxious to start shopping we head right in. The first guy in the first stall in the place starts trying to sell us some "quality Mexican weed". I politly refuse and he starts trying to sell us his other wares. "want some blow buddy, hey no, blow how bout some smack?" Now Bob and I are starting to get a little scared, here I am looking for a damn hat and that has somehow evolved into a foreign drug deal! Ever seen Return to Paradise, or Midnight Run? My idea of a good time does not involve spending time in a cell being brutalized with a nightstick or being some Lifers "bitch". Convinced the Mexican DEA is about to swarm me at any second I tried to make it very clear that I wasn't interested in any drugs and that all I wanted was a damn hat! All told we were offered illegal substances 13 times in the hour and half we spent at the market. On the plus side I finally did get a cool hat, a hammock, and a set of mariachi shakers.

On a side note one guy there tried to trade me his sister and a magic box for one of the girls from the U.S. So if your looking to make a your start in the white slave trade this is is the place.

Valuable Lessons Learned:

1) When they say there is lots junk at the market they mean there is lots of JUNK at the market.

2) Forget his sister, hold out for the beachfront condo and $20000.

We were in Boca Chica in the Dominican Republic when we got sold the most expensive beer in the world. It was the last day of our vacation and we wanted to go pick up some junk ot take home (yes this is a recurring theme). Walking along the main drag in town we were approached by a well dressed English speaking man who seemed really nice. He wanted us to go and check out his place and assured us her had the best prices in town.

So we follow him off the main drag and into this drab and dark little alley. We started to think this might not be such a good idea but continued on in spite of our discomfort. He finally led us out of the ramshackle huts and onto the beach where he had a nice little table set up under a parasol. We sat down and began to look through suitcases or jewlery and other assorted junk when he offered to get us a few beers. We said sure as it was a hot day and we were partched (and were Canadian so it's pretty rare for us to turn down a beer). We spent about half an hour there buying stuff and drank three beers. When we got up to leave the guy hands us our tab for $50 U.S. for 3 beer and rental of his table.

I think balistic is the best word to describe our reaction. We absolutly refused to pay the bill and the little Dominican started to threaten to phone the police and got real pushy (his finger in my chest etc...). Now I am not a small guy and my buddy Chris who was with us on this trip makes me look tiny (his nickname on the high school football team was Ogre) so this shit was not going to fly. We told him to phone the police and got up and left. He grabbed a few buddies and started chasing us down the street (we were headed back to the hotel) and started throwing an absolute shit-fit. He was screaming and frothing from the mouth and we kept telling him to phone the cops (Domincan police ALWAYS side with the tourists). Instead he started enlisting help from the moto honchos (mini bike taxis) along the way until about a block from our hotel we were surrounded by at least 16 of them.

It was do or die time for them cause if we made it back to the hotel there is nothing they could do. He demanded his $50 and we made an offer of $10. He came back with an offer of $45 bucks or "there will be trouble". Chris, Bob, and I were annoyed as hell by this time so we let him have it. We told him exactly how afraid we were of his little moto honcho friends and told him in no uncertain terms where he could stick his $50. We then informed him it would be our pleasure to kick his ass and even though we were outnumbered 16 to 3 we would make sure he lost some of his pretty teeth before they took us down.

I don't know why (we were in WAY over our heads at 16 to 3) but he backed down and agreed on $10. Getting a little cocky now cause he blinked we said no, $10 bucks was five minutes ago, now it's $6 (a fair rate for 3 beers there) and he went ballisitic again. Finally he agreed and settled on $6. He also passed on a warning that he had lots of friends and he wouldn't recommend us walking on the beach alone at night!

Valuable lessons learned:

1) Never follow anyone (especially someone who speaks really good english) off the beaten path especially down a dark and dreary alley.

2) Agree on a price before you drink or touch anything

3) Remember the police are YOUR friends! These countries live off tourism and the Police HATE people who mess with the tourists.

4) Never go anywhere alone, if I had been by myself I would have paid or ended up in the hospital

5) Most people here are honest and hard working, don't let a few bums ruin your vacation.

6) If all else fails (please try nonviolent options first), the threat of a good asswhipping can get you out of lots of trouble (we don't recommend this unless Ogre is traveling with you).