Rain is threatening my streetseller's crazy existence, the children of the Gods having had their first orgy test the night before and now doing a not so great job releasing the content of their celestial bladders Fontok Mak Mak as my beloved Thai ladyfriend would call it, the freaking urine left-over of the Gods as I prefer to name it....
Viento Fuerte threathening to blow away my little mobile streetseller's shop, maybe a celestial blowjob having gone awire last night up there in these holy clouds while the offspring of holier than holy crappers got their initiation to what matters in the lives of the inmortals shitheads...
And all of that on my birthday number fifty-two, no way these nutcases from the sky have any respect for those that die and have limited life span, have to work hard and make ends meet the next day, no regards for so hard needed savings for my next flight to my Thai love affair...
But then life could be worse I realise when I see Bokito, the owner of the tourist shop just across the road, his nick fitting considering his enormous bulk resembling the physic of a certain captive silverback, looking expectantly at these dark rain clouds, has worthless unbrellas on his gorilla mind, somewhere in the misty corners of his ape-like verebral cortex already preparing his words of anger and frustations for the Anne Frank House personal when they will hand out free umbrellas to their customers...
Yeah with crazy Bokito on the loose and Miss Lidia from Brazil writing Portuegese words in my sketchbook I realise my Aniversario isn't all that bad...
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