So I have been getting a lot of “where you at Big T?” I am guessing you all are wondering where I have been this whole time. Of course it’s just my luck to launch my campaign for everyone to get to know the real me and bam I get locked up. This wasn’t one of the usual incarcerations where I can just pay off the pigs and get out the next day. This was the big league. I am talking about South of the Border... en la carcél.

You see, I hit up Mexico for a not necessary but always welcome vacation the summer before last. Surfing, babes, tequila let’s get it done. Everything was going perfect, had a sick place on the beach, fine chicks going crazy for me and my crew. I met this hombre on the beach as you do in Mexico pushin’ recreational pharms. He seemed like a cool enough amigo and he was takin’ care of us for a couple days. So when he said there was a crazy party that was goin’ off one night and suggested we go...duty calls. You know how we do.

We got to the house, which, put nicely, was a bit off the path. That didn’t prevent it from being 12,000 square feet of grade A digs. There were cars everywhere, music blasting, chicks bouncing, and all sorts of dudes laced in gold all looking like Scarface. I figured me and my crew would have no trouble fitting in.

We take our familiar positions at the bar starting the night off with some stiff drinks when these Latinas come buzzin over obviously likin’ what they saw. We were just gettin’ things started up when the Policia roll up in the house. Me and the crew were thinkin' no problem we’re clean, hard to believe I know, no reason for the cops to raise hell with us. Well these effin cops got to me just as fast as the ladies. It was like they came specifically for ME. I couldn’t understand a thing they were saying, I mean I can get by you know, ordering a drink or asking directions but I am no Rosetta Stone success story.  Next thing I know I am in a Mexican lockup with a bunch and shit faced Me

xican dudes looking at me like they were about to get eaten. When you see a drunk giant pink bear roll up, it takes a minute to realize you aren’t hallucinating.

I called Stu (Business Manager) and told him I had got swiped up and thrown in the slammer. He said no problem and told me he’d contact me as soon as he got the situation under control. The next day I had a consult with a bilingual lawyer compliments of the mexican judicial system. He told me that I was arrested for Murder! Turns out the week before a local government official got capped outside a local tittie bar and I had been identified as the gunman. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I just stared at this Lawyer, thinking I was on Punk’d or something. This was f*cking crazy! Where's Ashton?! I'm gonna kill him!! This sh*t ain't funny!

Well it turns out, the party was at one of the most active and dangerous drug dealers in Mexico. He invited us to this party so he could frame the murder on me. Plus he was paying cops under the table. So what does this guy do? He invites me to the party, pays the cops to come arrest me, he serves as the confidential informant, and gets away free and clear. He was thinking that a giant pink bear from America wouldn’t have the resources or know how to get out of a cheap under surveillance jail cell. Lucky for me I'm loaded and have been in more penitentiaries than Charles Bronson. I had Stu down in Mexico writing checks every which way. It still takes 13 months to get everything sorted out enough for them to let me go, damn mexican legal system.

This drug dealer had so many people tied up with the scheme that it took forever to find someone with no blood on their hands. I wasn’t even in the country at the time of the murder and I still couldn’t convince the judge to let me go. Finally we got to a government official that was high enough and not yet on the payroll of any drug dealers for a hearing that ended with my release. That was my worst vacation to Mexico so far.