Picture Postcard 11

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Dear Matey,

I know I haven’t written in a while.  Thing is I’ve been stuck at home with some sort of bug and couldn’t for the life of me shake it.  It’s allright now though.  I think.  Still gotta stay close to a loo but I’ll make it.  I think.

Had another unexpected visit.  Fact is the geezer’s still here and I don’t know when he is planning to go.  He drinks Rum (Mount Gay) and the Banks Beer; a few bottles every day, the Beer I mean and at least a pint of Rum.  Bingeing he aint!  Came on real strong first couple days, now trying for subtlety and innuendo.  Matey, don’t care how you colour it, a threat is a THREAT.  Sort of wish that Matilda would waltz in and blow him away.  Sneaky guy.  Very sneaky guy.  Throwing me the third degree, poking around.  Says he’s got a lawyer.  Don’t they all! 

He’s one of the G guys, No.1 he says.  Had one of his goons (and his bird!) with him.  They holed up in some hotel on the West Coast I believe.  He sticking close by; too close.  Got me dodging even if I aint diving.  Wish he’d piss off to Suriname or something.

Got rid o the ex, thieving Matilda, and her flunky; now this.  I can’t handle it Matey. 

I still say not one o them getting a cent.  And that’s that!  

Don’t worry friend, I’ll send you a blank postcard like I did when I first got here, if anything.  

Gotta get me a new phone.  And spectacles.  Can’t for the life of me find mine.   Hope he didn’t nick ’em.  Had to buy me a pair of those cheap reader things. 

Kisses to the gals,

Mac.

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