Postcards from Puerto Vallarta: Your Mileage May Vary


Four-and-a-half-hour flight and she still couldn't solve it.


Where the f*** is my luggage?!


Acrobatics on the beach


Nightclubbing at Christie.


Punchbuggy white!


GET TO DA CHOPPA!


One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, FLOOR.


Touchdown in Vancouver. It was raining. No surprise.

After 8 days and 7 nights in Puerto Vallarta, I have the most awesome tan and a liver with the consistency of paté, and I'm pretty frickin' broke right now. Pretty much my first vacation in several years, it gave the opportunity to just cut loose and enjoy myself. As much as I miss the especially warm weather and all the friends I made while I was there, it's really good to be back home.

Among the trip highlights:

-Going to Puerto Vallarta and having my luggage go off to Manzanillo, forcing me to wear the same clothes for three days straight (I have the most understanding travel companion in the world...either that, or she has a really deficient sense of smell)
-The clubs and the perpetual drunken haze
-Walks on the beach
-The Canopy Tour, in which we visited the jungle set of the Schwarzenegger film Predator.

Some of the stuff I coulda done without:

-Having my luggage delayed for two nights
-That horrible hangover on the first night we were there
-Completely arbitrary pricing of souvenirs from the downtown market merchants, which seems to be based on the tourist's understanding of Spanish
-That nasty insect bite I received on my back (which STILL hasn't cleared)

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Postcards from Peurto Vallarta, Luggage in Manzanillo

As I write this, I am stationed at the business centre at the Holiday Inn in Peurto Vallarta, Mexico, with a really dodgy internet connection. Attempts to upload files and graphics have yielded error messages and this is costing me 35 pesos for half an hour of service, which will be up in about ten minutes.

As the title implies, I have gone two days without changes of underwear as my luggage went to Manzanila while I touched down in Peurto Vallarta. Given the number of extra trips my baggage took, it was inevitable that stuff decided to sprout legs and walk away. As a conesquence, my underwear and sock supply has been reduced by 50%, which included a pack of boxer briefs that were purchased specifically for this trip (that, and they were getting a little worn out anyway). Who the hell steals underwear (unfortunately, the question mark key doesn't seem to work on this keyboard).

Stinky clothes notwithstanding, I have been enjoying myself, but photos and pictures of the trip are pending my arrival in Vancouver this Sunday. Given the dodginess of the connection (and the fact that the keyboard is configured for Spanish use), I'm unable to upload photos.

Weather is beautiful, wish you were here.
Vince

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"With the new tri-bladed razor system, you take one stroke, it takes three!"

Through the magic of Hollywood, I am able to become a person who is 200 pounds and 6' tall. No, I didn't put on a fat suit and I wasn't put on the Hollywood training program. I was what's referred to as a photo double. This is done when an actor with a speaking role has no lines or closeups, but their character's presence is somehow required. To save costs, a photo double is used to stand in for the actor, as they are typically paid significantly less than an actor.

Being that the character in question ("Jose") was blown to smithereens in the previous scene (and hence, would not have anymore speaking lines), I was called in to stand in for him. Upon closer inspection of the actor' s photo, the resemblance is difficult to see. For starters, the actor in question is Hispanic, while I am Asian. Plus, I have significantly more facial hair (which was promptly trimmed to match...sort of). And on top of that, the guy outweighs me by about fifty pounds.

This was all done for the locally shot action flick, Rogue, starring Jet Li and Jason Statham. Given the fact that my face is not shown in close up, no one will probably notice anyway. As it is, my head is halfway sticking into a hole in the wall. But, I can think of worse ways to make $20/hour.

I still remember the last time I played a bloodied corpse. I was helping out an indie filmmaker with his short film, Waterfalls, in which I was playing Dead Asian Gangster #5 (listed in the credits as "Betrayed #5"). Not having time to shower, I just went on public transit as is. I had the whole row of seats all to myself. I probably shoulda gone into the nearest drug store and asked for a single bandage.

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