Good morning, I am writing this from steamy Cebu city, the Queen of the South and the oldest city in the Philippines. I often come here for a few days break because, although it's just as hot as South China, the beaches are better and the girls are friendlier.
'The girls are friendlier'? If ur looking for love that's fine ur life I just want to say ur nearly 50 and fat soooooooooooooooooooooo good luck - u can always find a blind girl. I have a question: was I a mistake? Due to u and mum having uhhhhh a sleep after u got divorced. Mum's a bit vague.
You were definitely not an accident (launches into long explanation). Anyway, here's a poem I wrote after you arrived:
The night before you pushed and struggled out I slept on the ground, ice and snow about That was Art's path; I shivered coldly My belly empty, sod and soul solely
But then you came, your hair was fine Brightness eyes, beautiful son of mine! I never knew before what life meant Until you arrived an…
My mother came to stay this week, having cozened her way in with the feeble excuse that she needed to recuperate after an eye operation. When I grumbled that she could recover just as well in her boat, or indeed in Timbuktu, my grandmother just gave me a warning glance.
So that was that.
The old bag should have gone after the weekend but lingered on like a bad smell for a few days more. She spent most of the time complaining about her health and general incapacity but I noticed she had no problem swilling copious amounts of gin.
The second best gin.
She has spent thirty years frittering away the family's money on exotic holidays, substances and men and now, utterly unemployable, faces the bleak prospect of an impecunious old age. Thus she is on the hunt for someone, anyone, who might throw her a financial lifeline. She is desperately afraid my grandmother will live to be 90 and that she will never get her grubby mitts on the cash.
"(T)he future is a horny worker's hand spanking a perfumed bourgeois arse; (s)he may keep a dab of scent and be grateful." (Unknown revolutionary).
October. I went for the weekend with Meg, my Japanese girlfriend: it was her birthday. I was given a six-month stay; she was given three; I pointed this out with glee; I could tell from her moue the arrow flew true.
Later, in bed, having pleasured me in unspeakable ways - 愛のコリーダ - she pointedly asked whether European girls could do what she just had. I had to admit they could not, or at least never had. Thus her honour was satisfied and face restored. And thank God for that!