Just back after a month in the “Lands,” Ice and Green. Michelle actually got me on a horse up in Iceland and, like something right out of the voyage of the Bounty and Captain Cook, the natives (Eskimos) actually rushed to greet us in their boats up in Greenland. The ship gave them pizza and passengers tossed chocolate and trinkets. This must have pacified the whale- and seal-eating savages since we were allowed to pass through the fjord unmolested. I’ll post some photos on my face book thingy and add some comments. Meanwhile. . . .
Ambush.com—Lookin’ for love, a 44-year-old lonely heart met Bobby Jo Curtis on a net dating site and immediately invited her and her 16-year-old loser son to move into his Tampa home. Talk about whirlwind romance! Within one week Ma Barker and her boy, along with a friend, had beat up, tied up and, with a hammer and ball bat, had nearly used up their amorous-minded benefactor. After stealing everything the generous gent had, and leaving him more dead than alive, the gang prepared to make their getaway. Before they could do so, however, a nosey neighbor, a sixty-nine-year-old curtain snoop, came out when he saw the gang loading up the swag. Just exactly what the old fellow thought he was going to do is unclear but a baseball bat to the head knocked our hero as cold as a frozen turnip. Bobby Jo, junior and the friend fled the scene, leaving both the romantic dupe and the snoopy geezer in pretty bad shape.
Yesterday, Michelle saw a limping vulture trying to dine in the road just up the island a piece. He was hopping around on one leg and forced to defy traffic if he hoped to continue among the living. When Michelle came back two hours later, the bird lay dead in the road, beside the flattened armadillo or possum he hoped to sup on. And so, eater becomes the eaten, scavenger becomes scavengee, buzzard becomes buzzee. I’m almost sure that there is a nice metaphor hidden here somewhere but after being in Iceland where fire and ice, volcanoes and glaciers, exist side by side, my mind is all metaphored out about now.
Michelle has been around quite a bit, but never to Amsterdam . . . until last month. She was a bit shocked by the casual window sex for sale (below), by the open dope policy (one can get a buzz on virtually any street just by smelling the clouds of MJ smoke) and she was especially taken aback by the outdoor piss ports. As I pointed to one, she hardly believed it when a man sauntered in and did his business for all the world to see. And yet, IMO, this is still better than drunken oafs just finding a wall to do #1 on, in full public view, or even squat on a sidewalk and do #2, in full public view (as I have also seen). Whatever, crazy . . . just crazy!
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