ME llamo Javier y vivo en Madrid. Una cudad

ME llamo Javier y vivo en Madrid. Una cudad muy peligroa en estos tiempos...

He stated at the unblinking screen. A long moment passed before the reply came: "I/am/sorry/javier/madrid/but/this/unit/can/only/translate/english/into/english/please/check/your/wa

ter/gas/electricity/supplies/because/it's/about/to/blow. KABOOOM!!! Now homeless I was determined to track down the psychic Javier from Madrid and move in with him. He was my only

lifeline. I stowed away on a container ship transporting Brussel sprouts (which I hate), slipped out in Porto, & hitched up to Madrid. "Javier El Psycho, me encantado" said a swart

hy Patrick Stewart. He'd been tanning on the isle of Malta last July. Patrick Stewart had all the fun. He and Javier El Psycho were on ships deck spotting birds and smoking

Suddenly, El Psycho stabbed Patrick Stewart in the back. As Stewart fell over the rail, El Psycho muttered, "I never really was on your side." He puffed again on his cigarrette.

I was lost in the middle of the pacific with enough food and water for five years, but only two weeks' worth of cigars! I cried.

Then I dismantled the cigars and carved an oar into a pipe. I also found two tobacco seeds, which I planned to plant when I hit land. Now all I had to do was to drift to rich soil

, cultivate the seeds, wait 6 months to harvest the plant, construct an oast to dry and cure them, and find a sharp rock to shred them. The genius of my plan was in its simplicity.