The night before my latest accident, I was enjoying a cerveca in my usual hostelry when my two favourite gay people came to talk to me.
For indecencies sake, I will call them George and Michael.
Michael came over first to ask how my recent golfing escapade had transpired. I explained how I was attempting to teach Mariposa to play golf without my predeliction to twat the fuck out of the chinless cunts that proliferate that environment.
"I still can't believe that Goths play golf he said
"Oh we do" I replied "But only at night"
"That is so funny" he responded honestly "But I have to go to this cocktail party tonight, and I don't want to go
"So don't" I opined "If I don't want to do something, I don't"
"I wish I could be that strong but I have to go"
I bade him farewell and gave him a piece of Gothic darkness to take with him, as a bullshit shield.
Awhile later, George beckoned me over and insisted that I meet his 'crew' of American de-constructors. They seemed a harmless, if dim-witted bunch of renegades. The men were scary, the women scarier but I assume they were a 'tag-team'.
One in particular, caught my imagination - I'll call him Cleetus for now.
Cleetus spoke in a rapid-fire southern 'drawl' that made me think of Deliverance. The only way I can describe it is ..... well, if you imagine Forrest Gump on Acid, you might be close.
I can understand English, Welsh, German, French, Dutch, Portuguese, Italian, Greek and obviously Spanish. Cleetus was speaking none of these.
I will attempt to recreate part of the conversation, after which it will be somewhat self explanatory.
"So, you're from America I assume?"
"Dang right I am Sir, Ize from the united states of ....
*interruption as someone says 'Hola Goth, que tal?' - 'Muy bien amigo, a luego'*
"Holy cow - you understood what he was ....
"Sorry dude - you were saying?"
"No-one here seems to hear what I'm saying
"Well, if you slowed down your speech and enuciated more"
"My teacher said that but she was just plain stoopid"
"She was if she thought that she could make a difference"
"My grandaddy grew up on a farm and he said there wasn't one damn animal he hadn't tried it with at least once"
*alarm bells*
"Oh gosh, is that the time? I must go and do something"
George then asked if I really had to leave. Funnily enough, I was quite certain that I did.