Abstract Feelings while Hiding from a Beating

Feeling faintly abstract today - in fact very surreal. I still cannot divulge where in Spain I am in fear of being caught and squashed by a big Film Industry thug - so you can live without that I guess. The sun rays caught me today and the mildest first sunburn of the season got me thinking of summer and surf and the Beach Boys sound while I was partaking of a swift lager or two in a sleepy spanish town in my sleepy old way like a Mexican with Sleeping sickness under my Sombrero. Still no meet up yet with the Agnes character or of course Petra. I have been talking in my Pigeon way around the locals and into the supermarkets to by the Wine and Bread to feed my 5000 hunger and thirst pangs. The wandering around does start getting to you and it got to me so much I ended up in a Laundromat washing my filthy clothes - so wandering is sometimes good if it gets to be hygenic do you not think squire ? So now I have well laundered clothes and I am getting paranoid of stains and dirt in general. When I open a beer I actually pull away and try to avoid spray. When I sit on the ground I look for a newspaper or the like to sit on first. Ahhh the joys of clean clothes - I feel 100% attractive - lean - except for a bulging stomach - and happy in a kind of isolated occasionally paranoid way. So te days drift on - onw into the other as I lay low - a fugitive in a foreign land - in hiding but actually free - free to do whatever I want, which is drink beer and wine - smoke Benson, and chat a bit with locals in a trivial way. Perhaps life will come back to wallop me on the head but I might as well enjoy this interlude while I have it - it may not last as long as it feels !!

Petra contacted me !

Blaaah Blaahhh - Barcelonaaaahhhh Barcelona. Here I am - In Spain - home of Rioja and Tapas and all I have eaten today is Three McDonald Burgers and 4 portions of French Fries washed down with a luke warm beer !! mmmm nice. Well anyway its all that Agnes womans fault. But then this afternoon I got a text on my snazzy motorola from guess who - Yesss its old Petra Peranovitch the Bitch from the dark side - and she is feeling a bit pale and ashen because of the party scene in Rome getting a bit out of hand - you know La Dolce Vita can get a bit wearing in the end and so I have called her in - i.e sent the message over the ether that she ought to really jump on a plane or a train or hitch a ride in some big automobile and get over this way - Head West !! come and join me in the land of the free - No More Franco, No More Mussolini, No more Spaghettior Ravioli - sample the garlic mushrooms my dear. So anyway - she said that she would think about it, but her boyfriend (shockwaves !!) was not in the mood to travel - so I said get over hereon your own - hook up with me and sample the wild life - we can go sown south, sing some duets, piss in the sea and all in time for home and tea. It sounds great dont you think. Spain is the place to unravel and unwind - ahhh ! I can see it now GLORY BE ----- PETRA yeeee haaaa lets ride into the Tequila Sunset on our Steeds of greay and Aubergine. Lets dance flamenco badly. Sample Picasso and eat very late.

A Dump in Spades

I have returned to Marseilles and had a long telephone conversation with Agnes and she told me that I ought to carry on on my own adn find myself. Well I aint lost - oh no sireee. So I have packed my bag and I have travelled on a lon old journey round into Spain by Train. I could see the countryside become a bit more parched and I slated my thirst with copious quantities of Beer. Ahh the lovely nectar. I teamed up with an Australian from Melbourn called Frank and we go along like a house on fire and soon I had forgotton that Hippy nonsense I had fallen into back in the hills and I enjoyed a much more superficial slap on the back kind of laugh with Frank. He could drink some. We limped into Barcelona like a pair of mutton chops and I needed to have a piss which was when the badness happened and I returned into the station concourse to find my bag full of dirty laundry gone and so was Frank. It was bad for a second then I thought good riddance, at least I have my wallet in muy pants. So that was my introdcution to the land of the flameco gypsy and Fortuna. I am based in a small 2 star hotel and ready to have someaction once I have got this bout of food poisoning out of the way - dashing to the loo every 20 or 30 minutes sometimes more - for a quality explosive dump in spades.