I
dreamed that I murdered my girlfriend who worked at a high tech beer store. I
killed her because it allowed me to put a scheme in place to have an endless
supply of beer. The beer cans I acquired were enormous and about halfway
between a large can and a keg. But investigations were made and I didn’t get
away with it. I got caught while packing the cans into a van at the back of the
store.
On Thursday morning I had translated
the first verse and a half of "On n'est pas là pour se faire
engueuler" (We Didn’t Come Here to be Shouted At) by Boris Vian. So far
the speaker and his wife or lover have gone to see the King of Zanzibar parade but
are held back by security, hence the title.
I started memorizing “Rocking Chair”
by Serge Gainsbourg and finished the first verse but had to change the
translation in several places because every line is supposed to rhyme with
“chair”.
I worked on getting caught up on my
journal.
Even though I bought six pairs of
briefs on Boxing Day I still ran out of clean underwear three weeks later so it
had to be a laundry day. After putting my stuff in the wash I rode to Freshco
where I bought three bags of cherries, two bags of grapes, a half pint of
raspberries, three bags of milk and a pack of toilet paper. I dropped it all
off quickly at my place before heading back to the laundry. On my way as I
passed the shouting homeless lady she called out to no one, “Are you fucking
retarded?” The attendant was practicing his golf swing with a stick with a ball
on the end. I tried to joke with him by picking up the mop that was standing by
the door and telling him he should practice his swing with the mop. He just
looked at me sternly, shook his head and motioned for me to put the mop down.
I brought my laundry home at 11:45.
I got caught up in looking for some
pictures online and didn’t get around to having lunch until 15:30. I had the
last of my chicken drumsticks cold and some yogourt and then took a late
siesta.
I cut up the whole chicken I’d
bought on Monday, oiled it, salted it and rubbed it with cayenne before putting
it in the oven.
I got caught up on my journal.
For dinner I had three small
potatoes, a sautéed yellow pepper, a chicken leg and some gravy while watching
an episode of Zorro.
The story begins with Garcia and
Reyes walking through the plaza. A woman curses them from her window and
another dumps wastewater on them from her balcony. The people don’t distinguish
between the regular soldiers and the cruel especiales. Joaquin has not remained
in hiding in the hills. At night he sneaks into Monterrey to cause mischief
against the soldiers. Garcia and Reyes discover that he has bound and gagged
Captain Briones and another especiale soldier. Diego’s father leaves to find
the real governor so he can put a stop to acting Governor Rico’s atrocious
leadership. The especiales catch Joaquin and two other men painting down with
Rico on a wall. They shoot and kill one of them. The next day Joaquin leaves a
note for Rico that he will kill two of his soldiers in response that night.
Rico tells Briones that they cannot kill Rico unless he commits a crime that
warrants the death penalty and so he decides to sacrifice two of his soldiers.
He gives Briones the choice and he says that he will put Garcia and Reyes on
patrol that night so that Joaquin will kill them. Diago follows Theresa into
the hills while she is taking supplies to Joaquin. He urges Joaquin not to go
through with the killing. Joaquin will not listen and so that night as Zorro he
makes sure he foils Joaquin’s plans, especially now that he knows the ones set
up to be killed will be Garcia and Reyes. Zorro jumps and knocks out one of
Joaquin’s men and then he jumps Joaquin. Zorro shows Joaquin that he has walked
into a trap by firing two shots. The soldiers come running because they think
that Garcia and Reyes have been killed. Joaquin is very pig headed and does not
thank Zorro. He is angry that Zorro has interfered.
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