Elbow Grease Fury in Spanish is...
My dad always wanted to move to Australia. Something about the outback bush kept him in line, you know, fantasies of a Crocodile Dundee lifestyle, big Bowie knife and hat and vest and Australian accent. My mom always kept me and my siblings afraid, warning us of all the damn tarantulas and snakes and giant elephants. She never said anything negative about the koala bears and kangaroos which I learned about from Nickelodeon. It was strange finding out now how unexpectedly violent those two are. Anyways. My dad died in November a few years back. Actually, he was killed by a twenty three year old man who had never seen or been to Australia. Rather, the man was just a crack fiend pissed off about my dad stealing his girlfriend. Its strange, my dad had all these fantasies about starting a hotel chain in northern Wisconsin, or moving to Colorado or Australia, but none of these half-dreams ever pulled through, and I think when my dad finally gave up and turned to crack, he realized in his finest hour, that this is life. Life is all about dreams and concentrated freebase cocaine Or something along those lines, he never gave me the time of day to fully analyze and interpret himself. The bastard. My thought process is all fucked up, but I think we've made a very fine breakthrough today, thank you Shawn. Now if you please, bury the random memories deep, and continue on with your life, with your story, and with your daily whatever.