Some original art and a story how I pissed myself in the air. Belize gansta style part 1

Yo brothers and sisters. Long time no see. Been living an adventure of my lifetime. I woke up with this brilliant idea of sharing some of it with you, so here it is.

Pirates of Caribbean.

I am sitting at a coffee shop in the hub of Eastside Vancouver, sipping a medium americano, which I am officially off from, but it's Friday so I'm giving myself a slack. It also stimulates me to shoot some random shit in this steemin post. God bless the caffeine rush.

Month ago, I took off to Belize. It was a minor pain in the ass to get there, cause I had to spend half afternoon in Cancun airport waiting for my connecting flight. Cancun is way up there in my list of “shit airports” where unholy men charge 5 bucks for water and free wifi is far away dream. The real fun started in the air though. Tropic Air owns a few propeller airplanes with max capacity of 12 passengers that they run from a house stuck in the uncharted part of Cancun airport that they somehow came to call a “terminal”. That alone gave me an idea of what kind of shithole I'm flying to.

Raphael walking through burning Matrix. Those who get it, get it.

Upon boarding I was so focused on smuggling in my 6 feet long rolled up painting on board (that I was delivering to Panama to the founder of Decent Bet (yes the Dbet crypto) week later), that I forgot to pee. It's ok, I thought. It's only an hour flight and I can hold my piss for that long, I got a tracked record since age of 14. But I didn't know that, although on the same lattitude, Belize has a 1h time difference against Cancun. I also didn't know that we'll spend 30 minutes on the runway, waiting for green light for our lego-plane to take off.

Me learning how to build a roof in merciless heat and humidity.

When we finally took off, all my focus was on the muscle closing the exit pipe from my bladder. The Belizian girl next to me kept on wanting to engage me in some kind of conversation, not understanding that toilet (any kind of) not a hot date, was all I desired. 45Min in the air, flying above the Mayan coast, and judging from the sudden disappearance of all the lights showing some kind of civilization, I realized we entered to Belize air.

Another hot day on the construction site

I could not hold any longer so I crawled up the tight alley to the pilot, who freaked out when I tapped him on the shoulder, and asked him how much longer to land. 1 hour, he dropped the bad news, then shouted at me to sit my ass back on my seat. I told him I need to pee NOW, preferably into something. He told me to get the vomit plastic bag from the first aid kit. I did. But that thing was way too small for my horse sized bladder. I made a quick round of the 4 remaining passengers and asked them for a plastic bag. Like this the whole fucking plane knew my predicament. One dude gave me another one of those midget sized ones.

I'd have a Belikin anyday, everyday. Please drink some Belikins on my funeral, when the day comes. Let's make it a party!

I sat back to my seat, finally gave my full attention to the girl who was hitting on me and told her: Yo sorry but I will pee now. In these bags. (holding them in front of her face). She took off like an arrow to a different seat and never came back. I kneed down, turned my back to the rest of this micro-universe, and inserted my penis in one of the bags, and finally released the bladder sphincter.

I tried to think about all sorts of random shit to divert my attention from my bladder, including cats, but nothing worked.

Sex or drugs fades into insignificance next to the feeling of redemption I experienced. The two bags were just enough to empty myself enough to get the edge off. For the rest of the journey I sat in bliss in the darkness of my backseat, holding proudly the two plastic bags full of warm pee in my hand. I reminded me of my childhood, when I used to buy small fish for my aquarium, and carry them home in plastic bags, excited as a Bilbo the hobbit on his journey through Middle Earth.

Things I do...

Upon arrival I dropped my pee bags in the first garbage bin I found on the way to customs, taking in the first breaths of humid Belizian air in my lungs.

Belize proved to be the shithole I suspected it is. Actually it exceeded my shithole expectations, ranking pretty high, which for someone who traveled 100 countries is always a nice surprise. But about that some other time.

I don't smoke. But when it rains like motherfucker and sandflies are eating me alive, I might smoke. The superman on my left is Stewie aka Mr.Jim. Owner of the island, a true genius and my best friend.

Why I came to Belize (and flying back there in few days)? Because my best buddy bought an island and I invested significant amount of $ in it. Our project is kick-ass, the best in that God-forsaken part of the globe, hands down, and if we don't get killed (literally) we will kill our competition (not literally) easy peazy, with one hand scratching our arses and the other one holding a fat doobie. You will know more about it soon, if I decide to sit my lazy ass down and write about it.

Aerial view of our island and its name revealed. First row of houses standing- Fuck Yeah!

At the meantime, unless I'm dodging bullets & escaping kidnap assaults, I spend most of my time standing in front of the easel, making my brushes dance on the canvas, which is after all, my mission in this lifetime.

Hope you enjoyed my Friday dose of random shoot-shit story. I would deny any of the above anytime.

Dance, Make Love, Laugh, Create epic shit and Don't take life so fucking seriously. It's not like you gonna make it out alive ;)

Much Love,

Jan
P.S.: Kill you TV, it kills your soul.

Tantra piece in progress. No worries, I might make the boobs tad smaller;)