The Samurai in Winter
A freezing evening outside an Oirish themed horror in the company of Iraq's finest export, the Samurai. Amusing to find out that his newly-formed company is acronymed SMAC, making the Samurai a Smac-head. He insists it's an ampersand not an A, but is mollified by congratulations for such an "edgy" branding move.
As usual an interesting time talking about the Samurai's past days working for the Son of Saddam, judged a "good guy" despite evidence of questionable behaviour.
"If you are really good to me, and you kill hundreds of other people, and someone asks what is secretdubai like? I will say she is a good person." Carte blanche for my next killing spree.
Arrive home in the dead of night to the joyous sight of a flat bearing so little resemblance to the pit left behind this morning that for a few Twilight Zone moments I wonder if I am on the wrong floor. Not so much as a cockroach or a moulding bag of rubbish anywhere. Unfortunately the half-cat's beautifully crafted cardboard-&-gaffer-tape home has been tossed out too, an architectural tragedy.
As usual an interesting time talking about the Samurai's past days working for the Son of Saddam, judged a "good guy" despite evidence of questionable behaviour.
"If you are really good to me, and you kill hundreds of other people, and someone asks what is secretdubai like? I will say she is a good person." Carte blanche for my next killing spree.
Arrive home in the dead of night to the joyous sight of a flat bearing so little resemblance to the pit left behind this morning that for a few Twilight Zone moments I wonder if I am on the wrong floor. Not so much as a cockroach or a moulding bag of rubbish anywhere. Unfortunately the half-cat's beautifully crafted cardboard-&-gaffer-tape home has been tossed out too, an architectural tragedy.
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