The surge comes, and so Ju-Ju and I go into hiding. Times are tough and accusations fly like explosively formed projectiles given by Iranian brothers. I study my English texts and try to learn, know which way the wind blows...
Ju-Ju and I are in Tijuana bar. Nouri the camel performs on stage with mother, peace be upon her. I do shots of tequila with Ju-Ju. Instead of salt there is saltpeter. No lime so we squeeze tangy camel juice. I wake sweating- what does it mean?
In late 1980's Iranians developed first ass-to-mouth transplant. You guess, I was first successful volunteer. Even got them to throw in butt-hair- fine beard! Many years without flouride provided calcium kernels that line my pink rim. Unfortunately, my new mouth smelled of shit.
After donkey Ju-Ju's weekly exam, it is my turn. Doctor says we need more starch in our diets. I keep tots in my turban to eat throughout the day. My favorite are Ora Ides from Idaho, USA. I love them so much. Ju-Ju doesn't know- He-He!