That private client deal sounds cool. A couple of those here and there and buying the house
becomes a reality. Thank Gonz for nut cases!
Just 7 days shopping left! *
It sure was nice sleeping in my own bed with just the river in the background. My hotel room was very
noisy. They were out of regular rooms so I had to get a "Junior Suite" which was a very nice room on
the top floor corner. Cool view, balcony etc...all for $75, instead of the 42 bucks I had been planning.
This was fine and good till I woke up to turn off the TV and was inundated with the sounds of the city
below. Some urban idiot was jabbering loudly, horns were honking, those fucking car alarm things
were going off, and every car seemed to have an after-market exhaust. I finally had to turn the TV
back on to achieve a restless sleep.
There was an unusual experience on the bus.
There were two buses involved in the trip home due to the landslide, and on both of them I got what
seemed smaller than usual space for me in my two seats. When boarding the bus beyond the road
work I had great difficulty squeezing into my seats cause this little jerk-off in front was leaning way
back in his seat like he owned the fucking place and his comfort was all that mattered. My space was
so cramped I had to take everything from my pockets and put it in my backpack just to be able to
maneuver enough to achieve some level of comfort...with two seats, mind you. As we got under way
my resentment of this asshole leaning way back into my space became malleable. I inserted my
knee into his lower back..firmly, and left it there. He began squirming and whispered something
to his wife..she patted his arm. My knee became cemented up his ass. I don't think the notion of
moving his seat forward a notch ever occurred to him throughout the course of events to follow.
He looked through the crack created by the difference in the levels of his and his wife's seat. I looked
back. I was in the window seat, he in the isle..my right knee directly behind.
After awhile, I was napping and felt some fingers and a hand exploring the contours of my
knee. I batted them away with some expletives addressed to "DIP SHIT!" The other passengers
looked on curiously, uncommitted to a favorite.
I decided the guy was a bit odd and perhaps I would ease up on the knee action. I shifted my body
side-ways and made as much room as possible between my leg and foot and his seat. I nodded off,
then woke to him groping my foot and sandal which gave him a firm kick, post-haste. I told him to
"Knock it off, JACK-ASS!" and inquired, "What's the matter with you?" with a possible "Shit for
brains?" included.
His wife punched him, then held his hand. I think I had won the support of the crowd by now as
they gave him looks suggesting, "What a strange fellow!" That's how I interpreted what I saw anyhow,
and was pretty sure what I would do if he made another touchy-feely foray behind his seat.
Remarkably, even though I was no longer touching his seat in any way, it was only about ten minutes
before I felt his hand on my leg again. I quickly grabbed it very hard with my right hand and pulled up
on it to see where it's mobile limit was. I found it. He grimaced..I gave a little extra for emphasis and
let go. Not a word said this time. As he rubbed his arm I hoped I hadn't broken anything.
He looked back at me in pain and met my glare..which said, "Yeah, mothafucka, take that!" It felt
pretty good, I gotta say. I may have lost the crowd...but he never did it again.
I think I just wrote a Jungle Journal.
These San Jose trips are always good for a few stories.
The Mutts say "Hi!," in dogspeak, of course.
There is a plane that flies down to Palmar Norte from the airport, but I don't know how often it leaves.
I think it costs around 60 bucks and takes about 45 minutes / 1 hour. It would be a cool deal and an
easy pick-up for me by car. I may go down there and check it out today..something to do.
Tom
* Dave is coming to visit one week from this writing.
becomes a reality. Thank Gonz for nut cases!
Just 7 days shopping left! *
It sure was nice sleeping in my own bed with just the river in the background. My hotel room was very
noisy. They were out of regular rooms so I had to get a "Junior Suite" which was a very nice room on
the top floor corner. Cool view, balcony etc...all for $75, instead of the 42 bucks I had been planning.
This was fine and good till I woke up to turn off the TV and was inundated with the sounds of the city
below. Some urban idiot was jabbering loudly, horns were honking, those fucking car alarm things
were going off, and every car seemed to have an after-market exhaust. I finally had to turn the TV
back on to achieve a restless sleep.
There was an unusual experience on the bus.
There were two buses involved in the trip home due to the landslide, and on both of them I got what
seemed smaller than usual space for me in my two seats. When boarding the bus beyond the road
work I had great difficulty squeezing into my seats cause this little jerk-off in front was leaning way
back in his seat like he owned the fucking place and his comfort was all that mattered. My space was
so cramped I had to take everything from my pockets and put it in my backpack just to be able to
maneuver enough to achieve some level of comfort...with two seats, mind you. As we got under way
my resentment of this asshole leaning way back into my space became malleable. I inserted my
knee into his lower back..firmly, and left it there. He began squirming and whispered something
to his wife..she patted his arm. My knee became cemented up his ass. I don't think the notion of
moving his seat forward a notch ever occurred to him throughout the course of events to follow.
He looked through the crack created by the difference in the levels of his and his wife's seat. I looked
back. I was in the window seat, he in the isle..my right knee directly behind.
After awhile, I was napping and felt some fingers and a hand exploring the contours of my
knee. I batted them away with some expletives addressed to "DIP SHIT!" The other passengers
looked on curiously, uncommitted to a favorite.
I decided the guy was a bit odd and perhaps I would ease up on the knee action. I shifted my body
side-ways and made as much room as possible between my leg and foot and his seat. I nodded off,
then woke to him groping my foot and sandal which gave him a firm kick, post-haste. I told him to
"Knock it off, JACK-ASS!" and inquired, "What's the matter with you?" with a possible "Shit for
brains?" included.
His wife punched him, then held his hand. I think I had won the support of the crowd by now as
they gave him looks suggesting, "What a strange fellow!" That's how I interpreted what I saw anyhow,
and was pretty sure what I would do if he made another touchy-feely foray behind his seat.
Remarkably, even though I was no longer touching his seat in any way, it was only about ten minutes
before I felt his hand on my leg again. I quickly grabbed it very hard with my right hand and pulled up
on it to see where it's mobile limit was. I found it. He grimaced..I gave a little extra for emphasis and
let go. Not a word said this time. As he rubbed his arm I hoped I hadn't broken anything.
He looked back at me in pain and met my glare..which said, "Yeah, mothafucka, take that!" It felt
pretty good, I gotta say. I may have lost the crowd...but he never did it again.
I think I just wrote a Jungle Journal.
These San Jose trips are always good for a few stories.
The Mutts say "Hi!," in dogspeak, of course.
There is a plane that flies down to Palmar Norte from the airport, but I don't know how often it leaves.
I think it costs around 60 bucks and takes about 45 minutes / 1 hour. It would be a cool deal and an
easy pick-up for me by car. I may go down there and check it out today..something to do.
Tom
* Dave is coming to visit one week from this writing.
Jungle Journal, 10-19-2007, by Thomas Scott Daly
The Bus
An e-mail to Dave Brown
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