IMPORTANCIA DEL MERCADO DE ALQUILER PARA USO VACACIONAL

3.5b - A Tinkle in the Tundra

When ‘Arry was a boy he used to bathe with his brothers and sisters together in a modified pig trough.

The pink hogs drank the murky water and spoke to Harry in rhyme:

“Harry, Harry, nice and clean. Don’t forget to scrub your peen.”

It was in his conversations with these animals when he first heard of The Tundra. They used to sing:

“Harry, Harry, free and gay. The Tundra is the place to stay”.

“Harry, Harry, wash your ears. a totalitarian government isn’t something to fear!”

“Harry, Harry, make your choice. Pynchon-fag or fan of Joyce?”

“Totality, Harry, use some soap. Come on, don’t make your sister mope!”

“Harry, Harry, The Tundra’s cold. Clean between your father’s folds!”

When Harry turned 18 the voices stopped, all he could hear was the sharp squeals and melancholy grunts of piggie wiggys.

“Harry, Harry, can you see? It’s so cold it’s hard to pee…”

Harry, Harry, what can you say? Oooo hay its wunderbarar day!”

When it’s really cold I hold in my pee for ages because for one thing it’s unpleasant to get your dick out into the air, especially with cold hands, and for another you lose a lot of body heat in the urine.

3.6 - A Return To The Congo and Leopold’s Ghost Delivers Stunning News

I recall reading Leopold’s Ghost back during a history class maybe two or so years ago. Since then I have become economically reliant on my parents, it is thus the need for me to find some sort of way to provide for myself. The idea was hatched one evening recalling my time back in college. I would go to the Congo and recount how they have fared post-colonialism.

I arrived at 4:30 pm, the airport was full of baths, yes baths. Sort of like rides at a theme park, you had a line of tickets, and you could dispense one ticket per bath. This maybe would be a good idea at some sort of bath house, but inside airport? I dont think so.

I exited through the front sliding doors, and made my way to a pink taxi. The driver wore a white shirt, and had a ripped up green top hat. He said to me “Wer we won wu wu?” I was flabbergasted… I replied “Um excuse me?

Could you take me to the nearest hotel?” He said back

“uh uh”. After thirty minutes we had left the urban area of the city, I attempted to get the attention of the driver, but he refused to acknowledge me. Instead he began to jam out to reggae music. We arrived at some massive shack.

The shack was made out of crumpled up trash cans, and pains of glass. It was such an odd sight, I was completely confused. “What was going on?” I thought to myself. Soon enough that question was answered for me.

A bearded man wearing cargo pants sprang out from the shack, he grabbed me and started to squeeze my arms examining my muscles and veins. “Uh no no, no meat no worth” he said tossing my arms back. He paid the taxi driver two coins and went to sit back in his shack. The taxi driver left me sitting there, confused and slightly contorted. It was getting dark and I was thirsty and needed somewhere to stay.

I started walking, eventually I came to a few massive mounds of hands….thousands upon thousands of hands piled up. I was so disgusted I began to vomit on myself.

At the top of the mound sat Larry King-eating the flesh.

He caught my gaze, and made a wild Kaw Kaw! sound and launched himself towards me. I ran as long as possible, finally making it to a car.

I am not proud of this but I stole that car, and I got the fuck out of the Congo. And thus my story was born.

Thank you for reading, somebody please give me some money...I am so poor and I hate having to rely on my parents. Exxon save us all.

3.7 - Fucking Hell let’s Discuss Magicians Again by

James Joyce and Sigmund Freud

The subversive Lizardman narratives run deep throughout this book. The Magic Circle of London knows this and they want to punish you as a consequence. Most men would point to the freemasons or other such shadowy cults. The real powers that be are not the freemasons, they are not even people. They are unmentionable, unquestionable Lizardmen. The Magic Circle are the gatekeepers and it is through their network of magicians that the Lizardmen lies and deceits are spread. This must not devolve into anti-semitism, or anti-anti-semitism.

This chapter brought to you by The Shilluminati.

3.9 - The Council Explains their roles within the narrative

“OY VEY FUCKING CUMSWAPPER” (here since the start, scheming) - - - degenerates the lot of you, you especially fucking kike, lucky you have me to add some rationale

[ROMANTIC]

(exciteable)

<logical>

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- pure

SHOOTERS, SHOOTERS. WE HAVE SHOOTERS.

“Is that you Koala?” No one particular whispered.

I’m just here to add a reference to the next chapter,

<surely the next chapter is in itself no more than a reference to the work of fiction it is a part of> don’t mind me.(a sneak peek!)

“The warmth [YES]

of the executioner”(oh mystery, oh suspense!) -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- necessity