Fuming

Good Lord! How can these workmen stand the fumes? Bless their hardworking, little Cuban-American lungs.

(They don't speak a lick of English, plus they smoke, so perfect, they ain't)

I am just off to my friend's flat, to sleep there overnight, whilst my parents take comfort in the arms of the Intercontinental.

Just so that you know, the Blogger conspiracy against reading my Immigration Experience has been boringly solved, so I shan't be suing.

But you can sure bet, Blogger must have one or two illegals working for them, who were miffed at my story.

"Oh sure, what does the trust fund baby know about coyotes and pandillas mortiferas?"

A lot my friends. A lot. Cough.

See you Wednesday!