Iguanapost. I guanapost ? Igu an apost ? I guan a post!

So at about three this morning a choice presented itself before my weary eyes (I had been approving stamped tits all night, bear with me) : do I go to bed ? Or do we go to the beach ?

A shade past four we were flying at 120 over the esteemed Carretera Nacional Pacifica Fernandez, sandwiches safely packed in the icebox, muffins freshly baked and hot cafe con leche safely in the thermos etcetera. Do not ask "120 whats", it is better that way.

I am happy to report I didn't sprain any joints multiple times this time, nor at all, nor was I the suspected quarry of overflowing turkey vultures like last time ; but every muscle in my body is thoroughly dead, including the ischiocavernosus, because I spent hours wave-jumping the world's most fucking beautiful surf. Waves three, four meters tall delicately coming down to wrap my earthly coil in foam, and to throw the girls off their feet and tumble them and turn them upside down and grind all butts into the eager sand. Quoth the vixtim, "My ass is thoroughly polished now, it is a gem."

'Twas a beautiful time ; then on the way back we ran into yet another Kike : Kike's Rest.
"Did you see that ?"
"Kike's Rest ?"
"I should have snapped a picture."
"Do you want me to turn around ?"
"Nah."
"You know, this is our turnabout mecca. Remember that night..."
"I ain't turning around for no kike."
These words were thus spoken, to which I duly attest!

We did however stop at the famed Fruteria Kike, where we bought fresh ripe mangoes. About forty kilograms of them. There's no mango like the Costa Rican fresh ripe mango, and yet they're a quarter a pound here, do you realise that ? Anyway, the smell of mango permeates my entire house now, and wait till the girls get around to starting the boiling!

But let's digress. Here's a spurious shot of me having apple feet :

Here's a strange item spotted a few days back with no further explanation available :

Shop suey fucks the cowboy leg! Don't sue any shops if ye know what's good for ye.

And in closing, steak. Because that's the only proper fucking closing. The victim here, three pounds of the most delicately mouth-melting flesh any herbivore ever produced for the enjoyment of man (and his women) :

Au pervoir!