We came across a family of beer bottles, so we took them in, gave them a home
and then ripped their heads off and sucked their bodily liquids out of their necks.
Once we realized what we had done, we bolted out into the streets, disorganized and frightened.
This picture haunts me still.
Cafe Habana is like Mexico for anyone whose never been to Mexico. For example, the walls are orange and blue and they serve Carona instead of lager, which is EXACTLY how I picture all of Mexico. I tried to get the bartender to speak some spanish, but he wasn't having it, and I was cut off after repeatedly insisting "Mucho Bien Servasa!"
Drake's performance of jazz with drum and bass influence is not very authentic mexican, although its pretty fuckin brilliant in just about every language.