Yet I do not repent me, or Semana Santa en Costa Rica

In the meanwhile it's been another week. How many more before the whole thing comes crashing down is anyone's guess ; it's true that I find myself quite comfortable up here in this sprawling crow's nest I've built over the decades -- but on the other hand I've never heard of a shipwreck in water so shallow, the ship sunk up to half mast only.

In any case : until such a time as you all drown, I'll be here trying to discern whether I feel like cracking open another bottle of Veuve Cliquot and, of course, I fully expect y'all to unquestioningly dedicate your life to supporting my lifestyle. There's things that are important in this world, and then things that aren't, after all. And besides : this is what things are for.

Breakfast, if you're curious, consisted of very ripe mangoes with milk and ice, put through the blender. Experimentally about half a gallon of milk, one pound of ice and five or so pounds of mango suffice, a mere dozen fruits. As Hannah said, when they smell faintly of post-race tyres you know you've got a good batch. I know I got a good batch by the comparison points they use, I wish to know whose slavegirl drives 240 like it's nothing (which it isn't, of course it isn't, until the car flies it's all fun and games).

Then second breakfast consisted of very lightly stovetouched fresh shrimp. And then, as we sat lazily around, bare cunts lounging about my livingroom like it's nothing (which it isn't, because... come on now, if bare cunt ain't naturally abundant what the hell is ?!)... well, what shall we do today ?

"How about we take a trip to Turrialba", came the winning suggestion. "The hills must be great after the rain"ⁱ. Indeed! And so... off we went.

The ticos are taking advantage of the substantially lighter traffic to do some road maintenance work. Win-win, as they say -- not only are all the spurious bozos not on the road, thus therefore making more room and lightening the spurious wear, but there's even some opportunity to fix the (many!) things they broke, back when they were (irresponsibly!) still allowed out of the cubes.

Seriously now, I hope they weld you all in, fuckers. I hope you get cubed at birth, and then they just stack you all in a warehouse somewhere.

Just because I like populations in the billions so there's a never-ending supply of fresh pretty cunt desperate to make it and amply abnundant to choose from it don't mean the production facilities supporting all that delicious fruiting have to be in plain view, let alone derping about getting underfoot and in my way.

#MoreOfTheSameAndLessOfEverything, meaning 99% less males at all, and ten thousand bio-wombs to the human resources production warehouse, stacked like high density dog kennels. You can "instagramtravel" or whatever it is you sad lot "do" from inside the cubes just as well ; and besides : a dozen cubic feet should be enough for each and every last one of ya.

Now go make me some pretty daughters, will you.

Anyone care to translate ?

Nicole wore those pretty pink sandals y'all know and love down, I mean down. So I marched her into one o' those whore shoe stores they have here on either side of ye olde whorewalk, an' bought her a new pair. Which she wore out. #BimboStyle

Oh, and the other thing. I bought myself a coffee slushee while waiting for Hannah to buy three pounds of freshly baked caju nuts, five pounds of freshly baked coffee beans and whatever else she got, the undying admiration of this flamingly gay clerk who rather didn't think it's right for a woman such as her, in all her greatness, to quite so abjectly slave to me, as the whole arrangement rather shakes his pseudosexual beliefs to their very foundations ; and for Nicole to pick up Valerie or something like that, this very peppy, tall, thick, babyfaced bisexual chick walking down the street in a style entirely her own, you should've seen this for yourself, sleeveless tit retainer barely able to cope with the udders on her and blue plastic gloves up to her elbows, well used denim overalls worn with the top down to not interfere with the juggling um I think I mean jiggling, in any case altogether summing up to exactly the hottest truck driver I ever saw (minus, perhaps, the moustache). O look, three hundred fifty words' run-on sentence, effortlessly expressed. Go me, for it's the truth. Anyways, the intercept took some doing, the healthy slut was going at such a clip my hound had to break into a run to close on her.

On the way back we cut through the Mercado Central, at the entrance of which lay in ambush the usual worthless old women trying to get in the way of life (this time, under the flimsy pretext of offering us alcohol). I walked right past, not gracing them with as much as a glance, which really burned : they broke into a chorus of how they need me (literally) and took to following us around poking Nicole and whining. It didn't do anything, in the sense that on one hand I kept right on ignoring it, and on the other hand I don't expect their stupid cuntbrains figure out their present nonsense's not the way.ⁱⁱ So nothing plus nothing equals what, hope & change ? I don't think so.

But obviously, after reuniting the girls got their own copies of my drink they had so sippingly admired, and well... eventually it was drunk, and that's why Hannah's discarding a plastic cup.

By the way, now that I look at it... what do you think those two going the other way do ? For sex I mean.

I guess girl-on-top is a physiologic necessity in some miscouplings.

And we're out through Curridabat and on towards Cartago.

O no, wait, actually, not yet.

First, gotta attend to the 69.

Have you ever had sex in the car, by the way ?

While it was moving ?

Because this is to my mind the great distinguisher of people : the world is split, yes, in two unequal halves, indeed. But it's not split between those who have a car and those who do not. Nor is it split between those who have access to cunt, and those who do not. Nor even is it split between those who have put the foregoing two together, and those who have not. The world in fact is split between they who do not have enough abundance of both to do what they will with them, and... me, who have, and do.

Have sex in the car while the other woman is driving the car, magari stop to change drivers/whorses at some point, to the mindblowing of local "just wanted to help"-ers, and so on. You know ?

And since everyone's hungry after all this, time for some pizza.

Yeah, that's right : we still eat out, April 2020 or no April 2020. We were the only people there ; and evidently, by the uneasy horror exuding off the full complement of waiters + the pizzaioli hanging by the bar, we were the first people they had seen the whole day long. "Oh, all you nice folk came here today just for me ?!" I enquired, with the entranced crew of that fabled shop.

They confirmed, and thereupon after "seating myself anywhere" I ordered a nice pile-up. After it was all done and they brought me the check I proceeded to, for the first time in like, forever, stand up and take it to their cashier.

"Here, I said : this is my check. Fifty-something thousand. And here," I counted the money, "Here is a hundred thousand. Divy up the remainder among all the people here, for they showed up for work, and I very much appreciate this display of sanity among all the hysteria."

They were quite happy ; and I am quite content. What did you think money was for ?

The poor icecream seller, however, was not so fortunate. Yet he has a family to support, just like the waitstaff serving me ; though unlike them, I expect he has no savings. This is what you stupid cunts ever do, and then are too fucking stupid and wilfully ignorant to be ashamed of yourselves. Not that it surprises anyoneⁱⁱⁱ, but yes you should be, and if one day you claw yourselves above wormhood you will be, utterly and thoroughly ashamed of yourselves.

And now we're out of Curridabat and on to Cartago.

It is waiting for you, shameless, spurious shitsacks.

What are you waiting for ?

Seriously now, social distancing nothing, kill yourselves. Kill yourselves today, nobody likes you, you're in everyone's way, all you contribute to this world is infective media. Make the right choice for once in your miserable, offensive "lives" such as they are and fucking end the charade, what the fuck are you waiting for ?

With you it's strictly a question of time anyways.

A glimpse of the future.

Make the future present now!

Notice anything about this picture ?

Anything at all ?

That's right, we went into the doggy shop of Turrialba, whichever's the one close to the park, and I selected some duds for the girls. "How many do you want", inquired the girl behind the plastic wrap. "The whole thing", came the response she wasn't expecting. As it turns out in actual lived practice pet shops end up a vastly more substantial supplier of harem paraphenalia than "dedicated" sex stores ever manage, in both terms of value and volume. I suppose it must be because the pet shops are doing it earnestly, whereas the sex shops are trying to survive on selling mere pretense, though there could be other reasons.

Kinda fun to follow in the wake of anklebell'd slavegirls carrying weights for you ; it also makes quite the impression on the locals.

Human trafficking, the movie. How do you like the scenography ?

It looks right, doesn't it, viscerally satisfying, rather exactly what you were hoping for. Those sacks piled in the midshot, a wooden pellet lost upon them, the rape trucks, the unforgiving and unforgiven asphalt.

Well...

Try it sometime, what can I say. It's by very far a much more delightful way of living than being cubed in your pantsuit.

The brief wet brought out some toads, who had been waiting itchily in self-imposed quarantine lo these many many months. They can't fuck while buried, you realise.

Actually, do you ?

From what I hear being stuck with "the lady of the house" in the very house in question has driven most married subhumans (for men they can never again be) to desperation and beyond. Is this so ? Don't worry, you can tell me, you're perfectly safe as there's literally nothing left by this point that could possibly make me respect you less.

Or anyone else, I guess, if such a wonder as someone else were ever somehow found.

Here documented, sucking cock a la harem, a pairs sport.

The idea^iv is not to engulf it,

but to kiss

and gently lick

and suckle the sides

slowly and patiently, until the rising sea of bliss overwhelms the levies,

then catch it on the face.

Are you ready ?

———

1. It's rained here, for the first time in many many weeks. Twice. [↩]
2. Before this piddly end times they'd actually follow Hannah around, now and again, similarly wailing and poking at her because "her purse is open" and "danger!!!!". Stupid fucking old useless cunts lobby... [↩]
3. How's that for "What MP says, happens ?

   More stuff to painstakingly ignore, huh. Enjoy. [↩]

4. Making out is encouraged, during and after, a more fair division of the collected sploodge a common occurrence, and so following. [↩]