The double decker and other luxuriant sexual practices from the jungle.

Let's go for a little ride! Again!

After all, the country's beautiful ; and what the hell else are we going to do with our time neways ?

This time we're going towards the Southⁱ ; most of the adventuring will take place in the cantons of Perez Zeldon and Osa this time around.ⁱⁱ So... say hello to Southern Greyhorns!

Moooo!

And here we are. The iguana spirit bids you a well come!

Oh, which reminds me! The double decker is yet another elaborate copulative arrangement in our seemingly never-ending series.

To achieve such a wonder of promiscuous tittilation, the bottom decker lays face down at the edge of a bed, bending the ass out, feet on the ground. The other bottom decker stands above her, ankles on either side of the bottom bottom's hips, toes pointing towards the face and away from the butt (right ?). She also bends the ass out ; the two can even make out, but the idea is you fuck the bottom of the bottom on the bottom while you eat the ass up in the air.

This arrangement works best with a little anal queen (wo)maning the bottom deck, and a bubble butt princess on the top deck ; but then again the chief value of the MP harem typical figure-skating is versatility (which is how we even end up with all these exotic accuplations in the first pace) -- and besides, double-Ds ftw!

Butt...er, fly.

Har har.

Yup, I spend most of my time in the water dunking, drowning an' otherwise interrogatin' dem poor darlings.

That's why I'm so well informed!

Treeguana sez hai!

Believe it or not, a family of toucans nest right above the pool.

I kinda needed to pee, see, so I said I want a volunteer to take peectures and another volunteer to take piing like a slut!

The girls rochambeaux'd for who gets to "suck it, little girl!" and since paper beats rock you get to see Hannah hydratin' poolside.

Admittedly the camerawork's not the nimblest ; it displeases me to mention that the responsible parties were harshly punished therefore, and hopefully learned their lessons thereby. Buildin' the harems of tomorro by and by.

By an' by...

By an' by, buildin' the harems of tomorrow by an' by!

An' now it's time for the burden... it's time for the whip...

Will they...

Breakfast in Dominical, consisting of some jugo de zahanoria squeezed right out of Hera's own ambrosian carrots along assorted other intricate hipster breakfast matters we won't delve upon.

Isn't that a nice scabbard ?

These guys look tiny on the screen ; but off screen they weigh well over a hundred kilograms each I'm sure.

As the old joke goes, "don't righ ; I'll come out now and again."

Above : perhaps the happiest frog of them all (which is saying a lot, this is definitely the land of the happy frogs).

Below : creative engineering according to local standards of creative behaviour & best practices. This is seriously how they do shit around here : ad-hoc, "seems to work", Xулы?! Нихуя! Нехуй расхуяривать! Hахуячено нехуево! Похуйярили!

Above : shot across the bow, from my seat at the lunch table.

Below : the same, zoomed in. Right ?

Right.

We casually picked up this little Cali chick, as cute as a buttonⁱⁱⁱ ; as the conversation progressed I inquired what is it she does for a living. The response came, without much hesitation...

I'm not sure you're ready for this.

Are you sure you're ready for this ?

"I'm an oracle", she says. Fancy that wonder! So of course I had to have my picture taken with her ; thus therefore, depicted above, at least one oracle.^iv

I mischieviously proposed our newfound oracle use her A. Crowley tarot deck to divine & descry Hannah's past, tense and future. The result of the first and only draw you can admire sprawling above ; the trembling little blond girl, covered in goosebumps from head to toe, trying to hold herself together in between the mage, the queen of pieces and the everything else... that you can't admire. I alone can admire ; and did admire.

As the expression goes, "to have fun you need to organize it".

In closing, the happiest friends of them all augur you a most enjoyable solitary confinement among the ruins of what once was your garden, secure in the knowledge that your plight is not universal but personal, nor accidental but thoroughly earned.

And fuck you.

1. Last time we went North, to Tamarindo, remember ? [↩]
2. There's basically two main roads linking Costa Rica's capital with Panama : one rather follows the Pacific coast (which is the one we're taking) whereas another goes through a valley and San Isidro El General (afore mentioned in despatches). [↩]
3. Incidentally, do you suppose there's any pervs out there working minimum wage "hospitality" jobs as these are misrepresented in "the civilised world" -- waiters and such -- who finish the meals of hot chicks (or whatever they perceive as such) as a sort of surrogate sexual practice ? Probably pretending they're the chicks in question all the while, too, you know "oh widdy babby wanna picwe ??? o here goes pickwe in widdy liddy babby's mouth, SUCK THE FUCKING PICKLE BITCH o yes yess nom nom suckle slurp such good pickles daddy" etc.

   Seems to me altogether likely, especially given the trend to "just not finish your meal" brought about by the "haut couture" faggots misrepresenting womanhood as "the sort of plank that's easiest to dress -- it won't dress well, but that's all the better for business, after all, if the customers were satisfied what sort of customers would they be!"

   So therefore, since the most directly accessible and reliably present feature of the self-selected hotties would be that they leave food on the plate ; and since it's his job to dispose of the food customers leave on the plate as well as his calling to dispose of the pulsions and inclinations within... what the fuck do you expect he'll do ? Not something sane, in any case, and the one thing resulting in gaining the most weight, most likely. Right ?

   Well... we left a lot of food behind, because I ordered one of each of their cakes ("oh you're my kind of people!"). They were pretty good, but I mean... who finishes food in times of famine, seriously now. What are we, brothers ?! [↩]

4. Vaguely in the same vein, upon meeting the mother of a different Cali chick, I similarily inquired as to vocation (specifically as distinct from avocation) and the answer came back with just as little hesitation : "I'm a metaphysician."

   I... didn't say anything. What was I going to say ? [↩]