feather

 

Sitting in the park, slightly intoxicated by company, the summer breeze and maybe a little drop of wine to many. I couldn’t resist putting a lost feather, heavily polluted by nature as well as undoubtedly its users, stuck under my nose. And with a Pepé le Pew kind of French accent, and my arm flexing like a circus guy wearing a tiger skin and curled moustache, I said, ‘Rrrraymón, meek a peektsjure of my moooostache.’

Sure, in hind side this grosses me out as well, but at the time I believed it was terribly funny, and necessary, seeing I made a great annoyance of myself to Ramon, since I mastered the Olympia pose to a standard on everywhere we’d go. E-ve-ry-where. But instead of laughing at my little one man show, his eyebrows went up in his hair, slowly made the camera ready for action, and while he shoot, he vehemently expressed ‘That is just disgusting Joyce Kleine!!’

geese

So it won’t be any surprise, when I tell you that my imagination can get the better of me sometimes. So when I looked at the geese walking in line in front of us, I couldn’t help but laughing. It was the Abbey Road cover of the Beatles. Apparently my imagination isn’t for everybody to see, because Ramon just shook his head smiling, and went of playing fetch with Kuzco. But I had to capture it on paper, so I would have my own Abbey road of the Geeseles.

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