The Mexican Interior


The Mexican Interior

The First Trip to Mazatlan

The first time I went to the interior of Mexico I went with Glen Boyer. I was going to SCC at the time. I don't know if we went during the Christmas break or the Spring break. It was one of them.

I don't remember how we got to Nogales, Arizona. Somebody probably drove us there from Phoenix.

In Nogales they had snow on the mountains. Snow I didn't know it was snow. I though it was old newspapers that they threw away. Hell I figured Nogales was too far south to have snow.

When we got to Nogales, Arizona we probably walked across the border to Nogales, Sonora and took a cab to the train station. From there we took the train down to Mazatlan, Mexico.

I think it is a 16 hour ride for the 700 mile trip and it sucks. But it is dirt cheep. I think it cost us $22 for the round trip. Going there once we got to the jungle I remember seeing iguanas hanging in trees which I though was pretty cool.

In Mazatlan we took a cab from the train station to the downtown area. And found a dirt cheap hotel or some such place to stay. The area we stayed was a block or less from the beach.

I don't remember what we did, but I liked the place. Mazatlan was cool. In the winter it is warm while it is cold in Phoenix. If you're from the snow country you will probably stay big stinking deal. But for a Phoenix native who thinks 60°F is freezing cold weather it was very nice and warm.

I couldn't speak a word of Spanish and I hated it because of that. This pissed me off so much it got me started into taking about 3 years of Spanish classes. Glen couldn't speak a word of Spanish but he was real good at figuring out stuff and he faked it well.

We a girl who could speak French but not Spanish. I was amazed that she could communicate with some children speaking in French and they understood her. And that she understood them when they talked back in Spanish.

There was a disco there which was pretty cool. They later closed it down.

Me and Glen took the train back to Nogales, Mexico. The train sucks. Sixteen hours of nothing to do. I do remember waiting for us to get to Benjamin Hill. The only reason I waited to get there was because it was the only English name on the map that I could pronounce. We again walked or took a cab to Nogales, Arizona. I don't remember which.

Glen was boring and took the Greyhound bus back to Phoenix. I was more interested in saving a few bucks and playing hippie so I hitchhiked back to Phoenix.

It was night time and I was standing at the entrance to I-19 waiting for a ride. The Arizona DPS guy who was sitting there waiting for people to shake down for revenue was nice enough to turn on some goat roping music and play it for me over a loudspeaker in his squad car.

Some college kids who moved to Tucson from the cold east coast gave me a ride from Nogales to Tucson. They though that Tucson was warmer then Phoenix because it was farther south. I explained to them that it's all based on altitude. Phoenix has an altitude of 1,000 feet which is 1,400 feet lower then Tucson which has an altitude of 2,400 feet, which makes Phoenix about 10 degrees hotter then Tucson.

I ended up staying at Rifie's house in Tucson. Rifie is Greg Riefsnider. I went to high school with him. He either got drafted or joined the Air Force to get out of the draft. He was in Tucson and he worked in those missile silos which had nuclear weapons in them and were pointed at Russia. Oddly Rifie had become a heroin addict. I found that amusing that with all the bragging about how fail safe the nuclear weapons systems are that a heroin addict could end up operating nuclear weapons. I guess that means military security is really an oxymoron.

I didn't talk to Rifie the next day. I just got up really early and hitched hiked back to Phoenix. I'm not a people person.

Mazatlan y Puerto Vallarta

The second trip to the interior of Mexico I made with Brad Williams and Gary Witting. I was going to SCC at the time. Gary was going to ASU. If Brad was going to college it was probably SCC. That bastard Brad Williams would rip me off a few years later when I started a business with him giving trips to Mazatlan.

We were planning to go to Mazatlan, Puerto Vallarta, and Guadalajara. But we really didn't have the time to go to Guadalajara.

We drove down there in a VW van. It is about a 700 mile drive from Nogales, Mexico to Mazatlan, Mexico on Mexico Highway 15.

On this trip I did all the talking in Spanish. It was my first time ever speaking Spanish to people who did not understand English. I screwed it up a whole bunch because I was new at it. But it was a lot of fun. Also it is a lot of hard work. But I enjoyed learning Spanish.

In Mexico the customs stations are a few miles inland from the border towns. You don't get to the Mexican Nogales customs checkpoint until you are out of the city limits of Nogales. There they ask you if you have any stuff to declare. They really didn't bother us. Although I suspect they shake down the Mexican. Mexico taxes a lot of things that go into the country.

Going down they had all these Red Cross check points. I think that is Cruz Rojo in Spanish. At the checkpoints are a bunch of Mexican Federal Cops with machine guns. They ask you to donate to the Red Cross.

Being poor starving college students afraid of cops with machine guns we would throw in 1 centavo at each check point. That was about 1/100 of a cent in American money. In return they pasted a little sticker on your windshield meaning that you had paid the shake down tax. We didn't know it but with that sticker we didn't have to pay the "tax" at any other checkpoints.

In northern Mexico it is desert pretty much just like Arizona. We didn't get to check out the jungle because it was dark when we got to that part of Mexico. I would have liked to drive thru the jungle in the daytime to see what it looks like.

We left Phoenix at maybe 7 or 8 in the night and got to Mazatlan in the morning when it was dark. We slept in the van. When it got light I drove the van into Mazatlan. I followed all signs that said "Playa" which is "beach" in Spanish and found the downtown area that way.

We ended up staying in a motel near the one me and Glen Boyer stayed in. It was kind of odd because they have a courtyard to drive into and park your car at night. At night they lock the whole thing up. If you want to get in you bang on the gate and they have a guard who opens it up and lets you in.

The guard at the motel was an ex-federali or ex-Mexican Federal cop. He taught us a lot about Mexico. It was interesting talking to him. Mexican cops make their money shaking down people for fines.

This is also the first time I used a 35mm camera. Tim Williams, who is Bradís brother, had a 35 mm Yashica camera which we took on the trip. It had a 50 mm lense. It should would have been nice to have some zoom lenses, but all we had was the 50mm one. I shot a number of photos with it. This was in the old days and cameras actually used film. No digital stuff then. Although I was a computer geek and was majoring in computer science along with accounting.

I believe that on almost all of our trips to Mexico we went to the mercado and beer factory to buy our food and beer. The mercado is a covered market that is either a full block or a half of a block. A whole bunch of private vendors and sellers bring food and other stuff to sell to the mercado. We would buy ground beef, tomatoes, lettuce, coke and other stuff to eat there and bring it back to our motel which had a stove and refrigerator. The mercados I went to were always split into different area where one area sells food one area sells clothes and so on. And each of those areas is split into smaller specialized areas such as meats, produce and so on.

I call them the ďbeer factoryĒ but it is probably more accurate to say the beer wholesaler or liquor wholesaler. We would go there and it would be a whole warehouse full of liquor and beer. The prices were much better then if you buy liquor at the local liquor stores. At one of these beer factories I remember seeing a US government car with US government license plates, driven by English speaking Americans. I was amazed to seeing my federal tax dollars being wasted at a beer factory in Mexico.

Oddly the Mexican kids donít drink beer. Beer is an American thing. Beer is relatively expensive and the Mexican kids when they party drink wine or hard liquor. The common beers we would drink were XXX, and Pacifico. XXX was a cheep rot gut beer that seemed to have more alcohol then most American beer. Pacifico was a mild beer like American beers. XXX is pronounced tres equis cerveza for how you say three Xís in Spanish. I donít ever remember seeing the XX beer or dos equis cerveza in Mexico. For all I know they only sell it in the USA.

At the time I used to smoke. You should bring as many American cigarettes to Mexico as possible. American cigarettes are very mild compared to the Mexican brand of Marlboro. Mexicans really like it when you offer then an American cigarette.

I donít remember supermarkets in Mazatlan but they do have them in the border towns of Nogales, Tijuana, and Ciudad Juarez. They call them supermercados which is basic Spanish for super mercado. They are pretty much just like supermarkets in the USA.

After the first couple of days we met a girl who was part of the Stapley family in Mesa. There is a road in Mesa named Stapley so I suspect the Stapleys are a rich founding family in Mesa. They have a real nice mansion in downtown Mazatlan and she let us stay in it. Her mansion was a few hundred feet from the motel we were staying in. It had 4 tall walls on the outside. The out side walls had broken pop bottles glued on the top as a form of cheep barb wire to keep people out. I don't remember if we parked our van inside the mansion or on the street. I think we parked the van on the street.

This is where we met "Bobo". "Bobo" was one of here Mexican friends. "Bobo" means silly in Spanish. To prove how tough Mexicans were he drank a large quantity of hot sauce, which caused him to get sick.

But I guess "Bobo" was really a man. Back in those days I would eat a Mexican bag of Taco Flavored Doritos and they would burn my mouth out. The Mexican Taco Flavored Doritos are a thousand times hotter then the American version. Of course now I eat incredibly hot food. So I probably would enjoy drinking hot sauce with "Bobo".

At that time the cool disco was still in business in Mazatlan. We went there. It would be shut down the next time we came to Mazatlan.

After staying in Mazatlan for a couple of days we drove to Puerto Vallarta which is a few hundred miles south of Mazatlan. On the way I got my famous cockroach pancake in Tepic. We stopped in Tepic and I ordered fantastic meals for Brad and Gary. Somehow I end up with pancakes which had a large cockroach in the jelly. I didn't eat it. And my Spanish wasn't good enough to tell the cook I had a cockroach in my pancake.

Puerto Vallarta is a real rich place. It reminds me of Beverly Hills. Lots of really rich mansions. Liz Taylor lives there.

Puerto Vallarta also has a cobble stone road with a speed limit of 5 kilometers per hour. That's about 2 ę miles an hour in English measurements. But the road is so damn bumpy that you actually have to drive over it at 2 and one half miles per hour.

Both Mazatlan and Puerto Vallarta have traffic circles. With traffic circles you don't need to have red lights. I like traffic circles a lot.

Brad and Gary went scuba diving on a beach in Puerto Vallarta. That is where I met the first people I could not talk to. We needed a knife or something like that and I asked the people for that. They could not understand a word of Spanish. Then I tried English. They could not understand a word of English either. I guess they spoke some Indian language.

Brad got some type of bug and we needed to get some drugs to fix it up. That was easy because in Mexico you don't need a prescription to get drugs. We went a farmacia, grabbed a Meric manual from the druggist and looked up some anti-biotics and ordered them for Brad. A thousand times easier and cheaper then the hassles you have to go thru to get drugs in the USA.

While Brad was sick I also ordered some crummy food for him. I ordered a grilled cheese sandwich for him. I told the cook not to put any hot sauce on it. Of course I translated it wrong and ordered Brad a cold cheese sandwich, with lots of hot sauce. Of course if I had said "no picante" instead of "sin calor" that would not have happened. But I didn't learn that you say "picante" to mean spicy hot instead of "calor" which means temperature hot.

Coming back was fun. No more stinking federales with machine guns shaking us down for money for the Red Cross.

This time they were looking for drugs. But they still were not as bad as American cops. At the first check point they politely asked us in Spanish if we smoked pot. "Fuman marijuana?" I told them no. "No fumamos marijuana" and they let us on our way.

The coolest checkpoint was when we got to Guaymas, which is the last city in Mexico on the Pacific Ocean we drive thru before we turn inland and go to Hermosillo. In Guaymas the cop asked us in perfect English "how many kilos of marijuana you got in the van?" I was scared shitless and answered none. He was just joking and they waved us on thru.

At another checkpoint the cop stole my cigarettes. I had a carton of American Marlboro cigarettes in the car. The cop that searched us looked at them and said in English "I found my cigarettes" and he stole them. Now that was a major theft because Mexican Marlboro cigarettes suck. They are terrible. Any Mexican or American that smokes knows that American cigarettes are a thousand times better then Mexican cigarettes. And of course American cigarettes cost many times what Mexican cigarettes cost. I no longer smoke.

In Santa Ana, Sonora I got to help out a Black woman who could not speak Spanish. She was trying to get a child in the store to tell her how much something cost. And she was going thru a lot of work and not getting any results. I asked the kid "cuanto cuesta?" Which is how much does it cost. And he told me the price in Spanish, which I told the woman in English. I felt good helping out the lady.

Of course when we get back to the USA the last place I go is to the Taco Bell on Speedway in Tucson. It is right next to the University of Arizona. Now I think it is Greasy Jake's or something like that. And the Taco Bell is on Campbell and Speedway. Which ain't the one we used to go to.

Mazatlan with Brad and Steve

The next time I went to Mazatlan was with Brad Williams and Steve Norgstag. I may have spelled his name wrong. But he was Brad's friend. Steve lived on Lincoln Drive in Scottsdale. His dad was a dentist. I also went to SCC with Steve. I think I was still going to SCC when I made this trip to Mexico. Steve is from North Dakota and he has all kinds of good stories about how they love to party in North Dakota. He tells me I would really like it there.

Steve was great because even though I could speak Spanish better then him he knew a lot more nouns then me. And when I needed to know a word I could always say to Steve "Como se dice xxxx en espanol?" and steve would usually have the word I needed.

For that matter I think "Como se dice xxxx?" is my favorite set of words in Spanish. I say it all the time when I don't know how to say a word. You point at the thing you want to know how to say in Spanish and say "Como se dice?" and your Spanish speaking friend will tell you how to say the thing in Spanish.

Again we drove to Mazatlan in a VW van. Same silly Mexican soldiers with machine guns shaking us down for the Red Cross. This time we were smart enough to only pay the one centavo poor starving student bribe the first time. At each later checkpoint we pointed to the sticker they pasted on the window and got thru without being labeled cheap college students.

I don't remember where we stated this time in Mazatlan. It was probably the Stapley girl's mansion in downtown Mazatlan.

On this trip we partied with a lot of other Americans. We were the only Americans in Mazatlan with a car, so that made us popular. Also a number of people were surprised to see a car in Mazatlan with a KDKB bumper sticker. Even though KDKB was a Phoenix rock and roll radio station it was know around the whole USA for its music.

There is lots of marijuana in Mazatlan too. But we never touched it. The rumor is that it is OK for Mexicans to smoke it but they will arrest rich American and shake you down for ransom money. Many times I have had people offer me a half of pound of pot for a few dollars. And when ever it happened I would leave as quickly as possible because I didn't want to be held in a Mexican jail for ransom money.

Back in those days I didn't know my right hand from my left hand. So when I learned Spanish I knew the words "derecha" and "izquierda" meant right and left but I didn't know or care which one was right or left.

Some Mexicans took us out to a restaurant and I translated the instructions as we were driving on how to get there. This caused some problems because when they said "turn right" or "turn left" I didn't know how to translate it. So I told them to point in the direction for us to turn. That solved the problem.

Brad decided not to mess with the American woman and to prove he was a man he decided to pick up a Mexican woman, preferably a woman who could not speak English to prove that Brad was a hot stud who could pick up any woman in the world. So he hung out at the local Mexican discos while me and Steve partied with the Americans in the north part of Mazatlan on the beaches.

Brad did end up picking up a Mexican woman named Alma Hernadez Haro. She was a hairdresser who worked in Mazatlan. Alma had a friend named Sandra who hung out with us. I think Sandra was also a hairdresser. We drove by her house several times. It is a tiny house by American standards but I suspect that by Mexican standards it was a very nice house.

It was interesting listening to us talk and watch as we seemingly change languages randomly from Spanish to English or vise-versa or sometimes converse in both English and Spanish. Brad only speaks English, Alma only speaks Spanish. Me, Sandra, and Steve were all bi-lingual to some degree. Sandraís native tongue was Spanish, and her English was much better then my Spanish. Me and Steve are both native English speakers. My Spanish was better then Steveís, probably because I had spoken it more recently then Steve. But Steve did know more nouns then me.

Sometimes we would converse in one language. When we had a failure to communicate in that language we would flip into the other language. Often we would converse in both English and Spanish. If it was important that Brad or Alma understood something we one of us would have to translate the talk into either English for Brad or Spanish for Alma. Other times it didnít matter if Brad or Alma understood what we were talking about so we could talk with out having to translate for them.

We all ended up going out on a date with her and two of her friends. They took us to this place called ďIsla de la PiedraĒ which means Rock Island in English. It is an island near downtown Mazatlan. They sent a chaperon with us, which seamed to be an older sister. Brad went with Alma, Steve went with Sandra, I got to go out with the one that was a hot babe. I was terrified because I though I was worthless and because of that she didnít want to go out with me. I wanted to say that but I didnít know how to in Spanish.

They had some interesting stuff on the island. It looked like they were serving roasted iguana on a stick. And we ate some other nice tasting stuff that we didnít know what it was.

When we got back to the USA Brad would send this woman a bunch of letters. I would take all the letters she sent to him and translate them into English. It was an interesting learning experience.

Later Alma did come to visit Brad in the USA. That was also an interesting experience. Again I got to translate and improve my Spanish. She had her camera stolen on the way up. But that didnít matter. Since Mexico taxes the krap out of cameras she bought a better one in the US for a lot less then she paid for the lost in Mexico.

Alma gives us an early indication of how bad the drug war is failing. When Alma came to Phoenix I mentioned that pot costs $100 for a kilo wholesale and sells for $10 an ounce or 28 grams.

This just amazed her that marijuana was so incredibly expensive in the USA. She then rattled off a number of ranches where the grow marijuana in Mazatlan.

While we never bought marijuana in Mexico we had been offered it at $10 a kilo which is a dirt cheap price compared to the $100 a kilo it sold for on the streets of Phoenix. And I suspect if you were to buy 10 or 100 kilos the price would drop very low like to a dollar or less a kilo. After all pot is just a stinking weed. At the time the wholesale cost of kilos in Phoenix was $20 a kilo if you bought 50 kilos for $1,000, but I didnít tell Alma that.

One thing that pissed me off real bad was that Brad never mailed her the photos she took in Phoenix. He invites this woman to come to the USA and he doesnít even have the curtsey to mail her the photos she shot in the USA. I was pissed off and mailed the photos to Alma. I guess that was the last Alma ever heard from Brad.

The one thing Brad did that pissed us all off was when ever we went shopping we would have high bills when he bought stuff. We later found out the reason was because he was buying apples which are not grown in Mexico and are expensive because they are imported from the USA.

I really shouldnít gripe because Brad paid for a lot of my stuff.

I probably got the order of things mixed up. On the trip when me, Brad, and Gary drove to Mexico we probably did not stay at the Stapley Mansion in Mazatlan. We probably stayed at the Stapley Mansion on the trip that me, Brad, and Steve took.

Off to Guaymus with the farmers from Nodak

I donít remember weather me and Steve went to Guaymus before Brad S. Williams ripped me off in our business giving trips to Mazatlan, or if it was after Bradley Scott Williams ripped me off. It doesnít matter either way; I am still pissed off at that bastard Brad Williams for ripping me off.

I am guessing this was the year Brad picked up some chick in Riverside California and decided to live with her for six months. If that is true then me and Steve went to Mexico without him.

Steveís dad is a rich dentist and they owned or had some timesharing deal of a condo in San Carlos Mexico. San Carlos is beach area a few miles from the better know Mexican city of Guaymas in the state of Sonora Mexico.

Me, Steve Norstag, and I think two of his farm buddies from North Dakota went. I donít remember how we got there. I know we drove. But I donít remember what we drove down in. It probably wasnít Steveís beat up truck. Maybe it was a van one of those guys from NoDak had.

The guys from NoDak were pretty interesting characters. Basically in the summer they would farm their land in North Dakota. And in the winter instead of freezing their buns off in NoDak they would come down to Arizona and party thru the winter. They were rich farm boys. Or maybe the children of rich farmers.

And they could tell you interesting stories all day long about the crazy things they did in North Dakota. They always told me that hippies like me would always be welcome in North Dakata.

Basically the condo was like an apartment and it was pretty nice. It was on the beach or very close to the beach in San Carlos.

A lot of the Americans that saw us thought we were construction workers despite the fact that our car had Arizona plates.

I think we would drive to the beer factory and mercado in Guaymas to buy food and beer. No eating at fancy restaurants for us. We would buy all our food at the mercado and take it home and cook it. This is also what we would do when we went to Mazatlan. And of course the most important place for college students was the beer factory, which is what I called it. It probably was the beer wholesaler. We would go there and buy a whole bunch of beer.

We would party with other Americans on the beach where they made the movie ďCatch-22Ē. Lots of Mexican would party there too. I may be getting the movie wrong. I know it was a movie that had a guy named ďMinderbinderĒ in it. And I think the ďMinderbinder BarĒ in Tempe is named after that guy.

And like in Mazatlan they would offer to sell you a quarter kilo or about a half pound of pot for a few dollars. Of course we always avoided the pot because; right after you buy it they will arrest you and hold you for ransom.

Brad Williams screws me in Mazatlan

Bradley Scott Williams was a real asshole and on our final trip to Mazatlan he ripped me off.

I decided that I could make big money selling trips to Mazatlan to college students. For the first and last business venture I arranged for a bus to take the college kids from ASU to the train station in Nogales, Mexico. Then for the train to take the college kids to the train station in Mazatlan Mexico. The package included 5 nights in the Posada de Don Pelayo Hotel, which is across the street from the beach. The only part of the travel I didnít cover was the getting from the train station to the hotel in Mazatlan. The college kids would have to hire a cab on their own for that.

The prices I charged were from around $40 for a round trip to Mazatlan sharing 4 people in a room to around $80 sharing two people to a hotel room. I made money but, my mistake was setting the prices too low. I could have made a lot more money if I set higher prices. Also a number of people though I was running a rip off scam because the price was so low.

I used the business name of ďMexico to the Rockies Ski and Tequila Travel CompanyĒ. That was also a mistake. The name was too long and I shortened it to Mexico to the Rockies TravelĒ.

I got a company in Tucson which I think was called USA MEX to arrange for the hotel rooms and the train fare. I think the guy what ran the company was Benny Quintana or Ben Quintana. I think he later moved his company to Phoenix.

I am a very quite shy person and I got Brad Williams to help me on the sales and PR end. He deals with people a thousand times better then me. I shouldnít say that I am shy and very terrified when I deal with people. Brad can talk to people a thousand times easier then me. And for that reason I got Brad Williams to help me.

I figured most of our customers would be college students who wanted to party in Mexico over the college breaks. I was wrong on that. There were very few of them. A lot of our customers were Mexican Americans who wanted to visit Mexico. A lot of our customers were facility or staff at ASU who just wanted to go to Mexico over the break and take it easy.

I rented a house in Tempe and ran the business out of that. I didnít know it but Bradley S. Williams is also a crook and he ripped me off. One day I came home and found that Brad Williams had removed all the business stuff from the home to his parents Phoenix home which is near 32nd Street and Thunderbird.

I did get my share of the profits for the first trip but Bradley Williams stole the business from me.

I did go on that trip to Mazatlan but it was horrible because the whole trip I knew that that bastard Brad Williams had ripped me off taking all the effort I put into the business and stole it for his benefit.

The only good thing I remember is that I got to impress some of the customers with how fast I could speak and talk Spanish. I wasnít fluent in Spanish then nor would I ever become fluent at it. But I was quite good at it and could speak it very rapidly and understand rapidly spoken Spanish.

The only other thing about the trip I remember is partying on the beach at night with all these people I took down to Mexico yelling Feliz AŮo Nuevo, Feliz Navidad which means Happy New Year and Merry Christmas in Spanish.

But in the end Brad Williams f*cked himself over and caused the business I created, which he stole from to go bankrupt.

My knowledge of Brad Williams is that he would always bite off more then he could chew and could not finish things he started. Brad Williams also had problems with handling money and always seemed to spend more money then he had, which meant he had to call mommy and daddy to bail him out when it came to handling money.

Bradley Scott Williams continued to run the travel business that he stole from me for the next college semester which was the spring semester.

I didnít hear all the details but I was told that Brad Williams again spent more money then he had and he could not pay the hotel bills for the group of people he chartered down to Mazatlan. I wish the bastard the worst of luck for stealing the business I started. And was happy he ran it into the ground after stealing it from me. Brad Williams I wish that you roast in hell for eternity you bastard. Thatís even though I am an atheist and donít believe in hell. Fuck You Asshole!

I have never spoken to Brad Williams since he ripped me off and I hope to never speak to the asshole for the rest of my life. The asshole did have the nerve to come to my parentís house and talk to my mom.

I think Bradley Scott Williams got into the real estate business. He either works for or run a real estate company with the name Tierra or Terra in the Phoenix area.

Also I think Brad tried to murder me, and burn down the house I lived in. Perhaps to keep me from bitching about him stealing my travel business.

As I said before at the time I smoked. I smoked like a chimney. I smoked 3 packs a day back then. And I always used to throw the cigarette butts into the toilet.

With in a few days of when Brad stole all of the Mexico to the Rockies business assets from the home we lived in he came back to the home and filled the toilet with paint thinner, acetone or some other volatile flammable liquid used for painting or cleaning paint. He left the can in the bathroom too.

I suspect he did this hoping to kill me when I tossed my cigarette butt into the toilet, and burn down the house to make it look like it was an accident. That didnít happen. When I smelled the chemicals right away I figured he was trying to kill me. So I flushed the toilet getting rid of the chemicals.

I wanted to complain to the police but I never did. As I said before I was a very shy person and I was too shy to complain to the police and say that Brad Williams tried to kill me and burn down my house. Plus with Brad being a glib asshole who can talk his way out of everything I figured he would give the cops some lame ass excuses on why he didnít try to kill me.

When I confronted Brad about what happened he came up with this lame ass answer. He said the owner of the home told him to dump the chemicals into the toilet to clean the toilet.

That didnít make sense to me. I have never heard of dumping a gallon of paint thinner into the toilet to clean it. Again being a very shy person I was afraid to ask the owner if that had happened.

After Brad moved out a guy named Rusty, who I knew from Brad moved in to the house and we lived there till the end of the Spring Semester. I donít remember Rustyís last name. But hung around with Bradís brother Tim. I think he also went out with Bradís sister Deanette Williams.

And Brad Williams probably never thought that I would end up telling the whole world how he ripped me off and robbed me during our college years. Hell the internet didnít even exist then. And one last time ďFuck You Brad Williams! Youíre an Asshole!Ē