Spain

My Airport: LCG

An escape hatch, and a friendly doorway back home

After returning Dexter home, I headed out for the daily shop

I walked up the stairs weightlifting two full big bags of shopping.

All possible flirtations, rivalries and sexual partnerships had been exhausted

They were ravenous for new blood.

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“I will never do this again,” she said, hours before the party even started

Sixty bottles of wine, two-hundred cans of beer, ten russian salads, five platters of Manchego cheese, twelve bags of crackers, three bags of chips, fifteen bowls of hummus, three plates of fried peppers, three cakes, two coffee thermoses, fifty wine glasses...

Detour: Spain

Orwell is still trying to get us straightened out.

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If you can hack it here busking, you should feel a distinct sense of pride and humility

I sat there in just shorts, enjoying my coffee, the joint and the morning Andalusían sun.