“Ma Ma Ma Ma, Ma Baker, she taught her four sons
Ma Ma Ma Ma, Ma Baker, to handle their guns
Ma Ma Ma Ma, Ma Baker, she never could cry
Ma Ma Ma Ma, Ma Baker, but she knew how to die”
I’m listening to the guys excavating the new park next door sing a long to the radio. The German accented Boney M is beautiful as it wafts through the window. Zach left this morning, I told the ladies at the Turk Town markets,
they cried, it was touching. We will miss him.
I still haven’t managed to get a photo of the “Car Crash Butcher Shop”. When I tried he tapped on the window and motioned me away like I was some street urchin salivating at his wonderful selection of mangled meats. It is my mission to get the photo for our 385 RSS subscribers. There seemed to be a bit of a bee problem in all of the stalls, it was like Joan Collins’ classic film “Empire of the Ants”, but with bees.
Here is a pic of Joan getting frisky with one of the said ants, that Joan, I tell you she’s a goer.
Hello Kurty goes to Egypt 