On Thu, Jun 20, 2013 at 12:47 PM, <[email protected]> wrote: > ** > The great cave of Bustamonte looms large in the overstuffed memory of many > of us who have spent time in Mexico. ... In fact, I'm not even certain we > are talking about the same place. It is in the desert north of Monterrey > and was accessed by means of a spectacular funicular, right? Or am I > thinking of the huge cave in the anticline? Damned if I know. >
>Yes, of course, as Charlie pointed out to you, the Funicular is at Gruta de Garcia, some 100 kilometers distant. The rest of your drivel pertains to Bustamante. > Whichever cave it was, no one was around so I simply went in by myself > then down the long sloping passage strung with a dead lighting system > reminiscent of the galvanic system used to revivify Frankenstein. Beyond > the end of lights I kept on going until I reached a grotto wherein there > was a shrine to Hey Zeus (Which is no doubt how he got his name. > >That was Bustamante during most of the '70s & 80s. The image though not the imagination of HeyZeus was removed by Texas cave conservators during the '90s. > > There were countless votive candles of the sort you can buy in WalMart > only Mexican, > >How many candles were there? > There were offerings of all sorts scattered about, money, ribbons, > cigarettes, dead flowers, and dried up shots of rotgut aguardiente. > >Some of the offerings can get pretty gross. There were small plastic bags tied with a knot containing some unidentifiable blackish syrupy not-quite-liquid substance. > > There is something about a sacred space that inspires the Weazel to loot > the place, so I selected two of the tall candle glasses, one of which was > entitled "Sagrada Corazon de Jesus", and the other, "Mano Poderosa". > >Somebody had merely abandoned them there after all. And you can never find a sacred candle glass that burns out at the same instant all the magic in them goes away. Almost always a little bit left over; best to snag them just in case you can coax out a smidge more of the hocus-pocus. > I later showed them to several fluent Spanish speakers and they assured me > that the inscriptions didn't make a bit of sense because the person who > made them was illiterate. > >And there's a good bit of juju in the mysteriousness of the title or text being not quite sensible. > > The votive candle glasses were empty of wax but full of money. I figured > that Jesus needed the money more than I did, and besides, this was during > the days of the devaluation of the peso, so I poured the pesos into a pile > and tucked my trophies into my pack. > >Good move. The coins were probably some left over "old pesos" that had once had enough value to buy you a bistek ranchero but now a wheelbarrow load of them was barely worth pushing to the scrap iron dealer. Their primary worth is as votive offerings because they figger Gawd can't read any better than the candle maker. Best to check those alters closely: they often have old coins from a century or two past which would make good collectibles. > > Back at home I cleaned them up. Since they were sacred objects I put them > to the use which god intended, to serve as holy vessels for the serving of > "Girl drinks", thus named for the ability to knock the panties off a Nun. > >That may have been a mistake. Many Holy Relics don't react well to cleaning. The magic imparted into them by the blessing and Holy Water (and the illegible Holy Text) becomes degaussed by the low surface tension present in the soap. Don't ask me how that works. Religion is all about tension...(oh, and mystery). > > Here is how to make a girl drink: > >"...drink". Is this a noun or a verb? > First a goodly measure of good rum, > >NO! Not good rum. This is only a girl you're dealing with. > I personally recommend Flor de Cana. > >Flor de Cana is for sipping with the boys. > Then an equal measure > >You can just pretend to measure with about the same results. > of tonic since malaria is an ever present threat to those who travel south > of the border. > >In the cooler, higher, non-mosquito areas a good, strong, sugary Coke will help with the palpitations. Proceed to the Squeezing Step. > Squeeze in half a fresh Persian lime (limon in Mexico) then stir. Fill the > very tall glass to the top with crushed ice, stir once more, then let the > drink mellow while you roll up some Michoacan madness. Hand the drink to > the Nun in question. The sequence of events will be similar to those > immortalized in the country music song, "Tequila makes her clothes fall > off". > >I've always wanted to see what nuns wore under their habits. My several chances were always thwarted by lack of light in the room. > > There is no way to even begin to estimate the number of girl drinks that > have been thus served over the years. > >Unless you can provide references we just assume it's all Bull Shit anyway. Make something up. > Suffice it to say that the inscriptions are barely legible, all the lead > from the paint having long since been ingested or rubbed off by fingers > clutching the sweaty glass. > >"Clutching," I think, is the operative verb here. > > At this very moment both tall glasses take pride of place next to my bong > on the shelf reserved for sacred relics. > > Properly arranged on the shelf with the bong they can form The Trinity: oOo > I bring them out whenever there is a special occasion, but any occasion > will do. In fact I plan to fix myself a stiff drink tonight for I am but a > lesbian trapped in a man's body and thus fully entitled to the honor of > sipping from the sacred glasses pilfered from the bowels of Bustamonte. > >As Bustamante was my first wild cave and indeed a mind-altering experience I think I shall take down my drinking glass emblazoned with the Holy Image of the Nude Virgin of Guadalupe and mix a stiff drink to share with you from afar. Surely the residual magic in our respective glasses will link us along the line of the 30th Parallel. --G Ediger, part owner of Texas > > Sleazeweazel > >
