


Last night me and Black followed grannys suspicious MEXICAN GARDENER. Silent under stars like shadow cats along the dark streets of old Bel Air, cross the glittering Sunset Boulevard and into the smelly backalleys until he entered a shady Dive bar north of Cahuenga. And there we sat. For 4 hours, watched him silently downing one Corona after another while watching some dog-racing on the bars old TV.
After another hour of no mafia, fist fights or shoot-outs Aloysius fell asleep on the sidewalk and Black was so drunk that I decided it was time to head back home.
While my bear and bff continued the night with rapping along to 99 problems I went inside to get some ice and there- in the middle of the living room a new object had appeared: a gigantic wooden giraffe that wore some sorta weed perfume.
Ok. Obviously, Mr mysterious cannot be the gardener. So who is he?
*
Thank you Supernova for your kind words.



