Friday, August 8, 2008

night of the living spainards

on this morning im waking up to the featch mollesting my buttocs. in his drunken state , snoring like the lumberjacks of the high sierras, there is to be little sleep for me. he is in an understandable state of uncertainty and i am simply the body next to him that could provide solace. but no avail. i , all night long, am like a dog whith a bowl of food. simplest of animal instincts take over in a sem-concious state and the defense mechanism kicks in. i hope i didnt give him a black eye. as the night pressed on, i found myself on the street out below and amidst a sort of street gathering, which was none too different to a lake havasu spring break night on a new orleans type street. im assured that this is commonplace and , 'isint it great?' , indeed it is. i ventured out on a solo mission to find a coffe, im sure there is some great 24 hour cafe somewhere, why not - this is spain right? to be sure. street walking prostitutes, drug pushers and vagerants are all too polite to a man with a handlebar moustache, ive found. the women at the cafe took a glance and roused in uproarious laughter. they were thouroughlly amused at this classic image, a not too common one ive gathered. i was told of the swimming pool at the top of the street that the kids all go swim in between the hours of 4 and 6 am, while the security guards are on their spanish breaks. unfortunatly a southpaw melch will see no high-dives and backflips this night or any of these european august noche's . we've been informed that a change in temporary residences is at hand, due to the unexpected and untimley return of 'the piece's' roommate. today shall include the search for accomodations anew. simply different surroundings, hopefully not on the top of MT everest, where a drunken primate can snore into my ear all night long while i sweat to the spanish sunrise. ahh, i need a coffee.

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