Posted by farid from customer-148-233-71-28.uninet.net.mx (18.104.22.168) on Monday, August 18, 2003 at 1:14PM :
Whopper To Go
By the by, Celina...I had the phone numbers, email addresses and street addresses too of your mother and three daughters in the States all along. Aren't you glad not everyone is built of the same used garbage you and your mate are made from? Else who would have worked to earn the money for you to steal? I could have posted them at any time and they would have remained too. Whatever made you think I was jealous of that skunk and wanted to be anything like him? Not even he wants to be himself.
I used to get a kick out of the stories they'd constantly invent...really, if you've never known such bald faced liars it's fun to watch them invent stuff right before their very own eyes. I, of course, let on that I believed it all...which encouraged them to go even farther.
I remember once, when Celina wanted me to buy her daughter in the States a cell phone...or at least send the money for one...she told me, breathlessly, that a notorious rapist had tried to break into her tiny apartment and she'd been unable to call for help because she had no telephone. This daughter owned the attack Pit Bull that later had to be shot down here. Seems the rapist had come around twice in one night...spent several minutes trying to pry loose the back door, with the girl hiding under the sink and just waiting...too afraid to even call out to the neighbors surrounding her. This tiny house, which I later saw, was attached to two others on a block crawling with student housing near the college campus.
When I casually asked about the Pit Bull and what it was doing all the while...Celina said they think the rapist came by earlier in the day and "made friends with it"...so it would know him...feel comfortable...and sit there wagging its tail while he tried to break in and rape its owner...not much of a recommendation for Pit Bulls in general...who are better known for eating their own masters. Later, when I went to visit the daughters and take them pressnts and bring one of them back...they must have forgotten about the easy-to-befriend dog because I was cautioned not even to LOOK at the dog...it was so ferocious and hated men especially...except rapists, which it liked.
Another enjoyable story involving the same daughter, a very pleasant and attractive girl, had her writing a letter to the President of St. John's University in Santa Fe, asking that they overlook the fact that she had no formal schooling (been on the run with her parents) for several years...did they have room for her anyway? The story went that the President was so impressed by this letter...or maybe she included a sample bit of writing, that he invited her to come to the campus and stay there the weekend as their guest and said they would be happy to accept her with a full scholarship to boot. They would cover all her costs but she'd have to pay her transportation..."would I send her the money"? Sure...why not? Such an inventive family should be supported.
The saddest thing and the greatest victims of all are their children. Celina told another story that was kind of disturbing in that it probably had an element of truth to it...an unpleasant truth. Somehow, when they all ran to Tahoe and Lew went to work driving cabs...if he really did...Celina and the four girls wound up driving to meet him...on Christmas Eve. They got stuck in Nevada and Celina, with the girls, spent the night at a Whore House. I get the feeling now...looking back on it, that this wasn't Celina's frist stop at one. Well naturally...I mean you can supply the ending just as easily..the girls spent a lovely Christmas Eve being fussed over by the Whores and Celina was pleased she had this opportunty to show the girls...Annie being maybe seven at the time, that a Whore's life was no bed of roses...that's what she told me...by way of a moral to the story.
But the story got fuzzy because she went on to say that Lew, working back in Tahoe, was desperate to drive to Nevada and bring them back home to Christmas dinner. Problem as there was a raging snowstorm and the roads were closed. Undaunted...would snow have stopped Joseph...He managed to fool the cops at the roadblock by saying he was just taking a customer to his house a bit up the road and got past them. Then he drove his taxi through the snowy mountain passes and down to the Whore House where he collected his rosy cheeked and much edified children and their mother and drove all the way back, arriving to a complete Christmas dinner, lovingly prepared by the friendly neighbor lady, as a surprise gift, who exists in all such stories.
If only they weren't itent on cheating people for a living they could have found some way to put this talent to some honest use...
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