Wednesday, March 07, 2018


It has been our unfortunate fate to live next door to this cave-crawling individual. On Monday night, having apparently acquired some Dutch courage in town, he rode up to up to us on his motita bearing exactly this sort of sinister demeanor. 

He had only lately been outed as a shameless freeloader and the context might be said to have favoured some sort of personal apology, but instead he delivered a nasty and pointedly cretinous insult to my wife and then called me a 'pussy'. 

Perfectly charming. Of course only a pathetic loser would conceive of this sort of repulsive public insolence as 'winning', vulgarly demeaning a woman in the street in front of several of her relatives and then fleeing as fast as he could on his wussy little scooter. 

In much the same way that only an abject specimen would set himself up to live in a comparatively poor nation viviendo de gorra off his neighbours and the local municipality. 

This was this gribbly's fourth attempt that day to intimidate us. Having kerb-crawled us separately on two occasions, he passed our home around 8pm singing and cackling like a maniacal fool. 

We suspected he'd be back to have another go and only had to hold our position with a small family group. It felt like a long wait, but he didn't disappoint, and now the whacko boorishness of this patán has been recorded for posterity. 

All I ever wanted was for this ex-pat troglodyte to face up to paying 30 quetzales a month (just over $4) for his water, build the wall the law in this land obliges him to, and sort out his drains. And I gave him a grace period of roughly five years. 

He appears to blame my wife for his current predicament, because he comes across as the sort that will always look to pick on a woman in the first instance, but she actually told me to cut him some slack. Yet surely there are limits? 

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