Donato, I knew that you were not for real. You are not a real man. A real man would not cry when a Federalista put a gun to his head. I did not cry. You are no fisherman. A fisherman would not cry. Only a real man can be a fisherman. Oh yes, you have tattoos like a real man, but I have seen many maricons with tattoos. I have seen many fishermen in my lifetime in Vera Cruz and Rosarito. I have heard that you do not catch fishes, but dust bunnies. Perhaps that is how you found Alien, looking for dust bunnies under the bed. Under Marisleysis bed. You are a house cleaner! A woman's job. My wife cleans the house. She does not catch fishes. And you cannot keep a wife! You have been married 4 times. What woman can be married to a man that cleans houses. What is left for her to do? Perhaps she fishes? Perhaps she met a real man fishing. I do not believe that you danced with a woman in a cemetary. It must have been a man dressed as a woman. And it was dark. I have seen many of those types of man in Vera Cruz on the promenade. Some are very beautiful. I can understand how you can be mistaken. I almost was. But a real man would know the difference between a man and a woman very quickly, especially if you are dancing the rhumba. Once you put your hand on her beautiful, big round nalgita and wide hips, you know you are with a woman. Perhaps you are tooting a little too much toot from your fishing nets. Oh, I'm sorry, you do not fish. Maybe you sniff too much lemon pledge and get dizzy. And poor, poor Alien. He is in love with Marisleysis. You cry what has American done to that little boy. What have you and that crazy crack puta done to that little boy?
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