Pig at the slaughter house screams and shouts

Harriet great to hear from you……. sort of.

In regards to that day when you drove me in the Tolsoneta, from the Rugby fields in Reforma to the Hospital Español and my screams and shouts being louder than anything you have heard before or since:

Harriet, at first I felt that your comment was a validation of the severity of my battle field wound, incurred in the selfless defense of Edron honor against the barbaric yet effeminate Greengate goons. Only at Greengates was it possible for guys to be both goon-like and effeminate; a unique English ability (think of Tony Blair declaring war on Iraq).

But then on re-reading your comment about my shouts and screams, slyly positioned next to your revelation that you are a Lamaze teacher, and have therefore no doubt assisted at thousands of births, I couldn’t help but denote a hint of sarcasm, or perhaps even reproach.

Are you implying that my shouts and pig-at-the-slaughter-house screams were somehow unwarranted, or worst un-manly?

Pus ya me voy a tener que echar un pinche cyber- rollote, defendiendo mis gritos, para explicar a los Edronitos y Edronitas, porque, hace 25 años, estaba gritando peor que una mujer dando a luz , en un camper manejado por una chava de 18 años. Güeyes y güeyas, si se aburren en este rollazo es culpa de Harriet que puso en cuestión mi honor y machismo.

Explicación de los pig-at-the-slaughter-house screams and shouts:

The pain I experienced, lying in the back of that non-original Tolsoneta, with my kneecap floating around outside its socket; the kneecap bopping up and down, left and right- like one of those Bobbing Head Things people put on the dashboard of their cars - was excruciating. Each bopping kneecap movement felt like a sledgehammer to the legs equivalent of the funny bone. As far as I was concerned, in my pain induced delusion, it was Harriet doing the hammering with her bad driving.

From my perspective it was obvious that Harriet was driving over every possible pothole, sidewalk and dead dog between The Reforma Club and the hospital. It seemed that at very best, this was only Harriet’s second week behind the wheel, and so I felt compelled to shout driving instructions to remind her to drive on the road not off it and to try and avoid at least one or two roadside obstacles.

If Harriet had already been a Lamaze instructor she could have been providing detailed advice on breathing through my pain; as she simultaneously drove the Tolsoneta, on and off the road, running over taco stands, dead dogs and chicle vendors. But I think that might only have made me shout more.

Kidding aside it is great to hear from you Harriet , see if you can get Juancho on here, and send him my greetings please. The same with Gustav. Take care.

Stephane