whoa!
nothing like a bit of insane drunken debauchery to make you feel like a mop that has very recently been used to mop filharmonijas skvers
twice
even that bit with the trees where there isn’t any grass
so, now we have
-the drunken debauchery
-the siggimus new hobby
for you
la voilà!
the drunken debauchery
a big thank you to all who paid due homage to the siggimus. as to the rest of you (you know who you are!) may you be haunted by country evermore. as for that little runt who didn’t pay anything at all, may you suffer from the worst of all fates; actually liking country music
having milked paddy whelan’s dry of drinks & debauches, siggimus & his loyalest subjects, danish jeppes & russian-latvian felikss take their considerable businesses elsewhere. felikss leads the way for some 20 mins only to find the preferred establishment of choice uninvitingly closed
gang marches over to aleksandra caka iela (pron. chaka) which is, for those of you ignorant of it, the place to go to shopping for various merchandises that are generally unavailable in most conventional shops, as trading in these selfsame merchandises is ever so slightly contrary to the law
strutting past the variousest of kasinos, siggimus said, with typical siggimus nonchalance ‘been there, done that’ causing small gasps of awe & glints of admiration to pop forth in the eyes of his admirers
the smallish parade ends up gracing aligators rokenrolu klubs with its glorious presence
aligators rokenrolu klubs was in dire need of precisely such gracing
while the literature siggimus shamelessly purloined from a napkin stand promised striptease shows on fri. & sat. nights, siggimus & co. had to settle for ‘katru nakti dejojam rokenrolu,’ or every night rokenrolu dancing up the walls to popular music from 1960 to 1990 from 21-05. so they settled
discussions ranged from speculations on the images of elvis & marilyn bedecking the walls, to plots to establish a smallish guerilla army to overthrow the corrupt latvian government in a bloody manner. stay tuned
when the 7 or so strangely less than enthusiastic clients had danced rokenrolu to popular music from 1960 to 1990 to their hearts content for a bit, the old bag behind the bar sends the younger & considerably sprightlier sidekickess to clean the tablecloth’d tables, gesturing in all sorts of ways to indicate that we are on the very brink of outstaying our welcome as she removes a glamourous bowl who used to hold chipsi that were stubbornly flavoured with dill & not paprika
latvians are fond of dill
considerably
outside, siggimus & co. say their farewells, do the secret handshake & disappear into the night
morning after
at approx. 10 am, siggimus awakens from his slumber to a gentle breeze on the back of his neck. a considerable number of pleasant sensations give way to panic stricken terror as he realises he is also experiencing a slightly sinking sensation
deviously disguised as a gentle breeze, it was in fact siggimus’ blood, sweat, & tears taking leave of the siggimus inflated mattress unlawfully & without any permission whatsoever
the familiarity is startling as the siggimus finds himself on the floor, the mattress hugging him in an act of unexpected, & quite frankly touching, kindness
siggimus is contemplating whether this was yet another cowardly terrorist attack by the cia on the state of siggimus, or whether a supremer being (hardly the cia, though) might be sending him a message, rendering him unto the floor or a similarly hard surface for what seems to be the third time in two months
anyways, this will in all probability offer a welcome chance to put the ‘3-days-on-a-hard-floor theory’ to yet another test
the new siggimus hobby
in a now almost common fit of i.j., siggimus accidentally got on the 208 taksobuss, when heading from plavnieki to pulkvedis one night, to see his great friends & superstars mary jane shake their booty
with a tinge of despair, siggimus notices this particular taksobuss deviates from the normal route siggimus has come to know & love. imagine his pleasant surprise when he realises that this taksobuss traverses the length of infamous caka iela (still pron. chaka)
siggimus curses mildly when he realises that he doesn’t have his camera on his person. nor is it in the siggimus backpack. ‘shoot! this is practically a waste of a fit of i.j.’ he thinks to himself
nevertheless, siggimus carefully wipes the fog off the inside of the window & peers out, looking for prohibited fruit
& lo & behold! for the first time since in riga, a place where a friend exclaimed, tearing his hair at the same time; ‘how do you know which ones are prostitutes when they all dress like that??!?’ then he tore his hair a bit more. some of it came off, actually
siggimus digresses
& lo & behold! siggimus’ first prostitute!
standing on a street corner, cute & doleful, looking like the only thing she wants is to have mad, passionless & impersonal intimate relations with none other than, siggimus hopes you guessed it, siggimus
actually siggimus felt a wee bit bad for not being able to oblige the poor wench, but the siggimus budget does not allow for such spurious obliging of poor wenches’ desires, plus he had a pressing appointment to attend to, & as if this wasn’t already enough & plenty, by this time, the light turned green again & the buss goes off, leaving the defenseless creature to yearn for siggimus, standing there on legs that somehow manage to reach all the way from her high heels to her extremely short skirt
siggimus’ new hobby of prostitutespotting is taken to new & hitherto unknown levels, as siggimus actually spots a prostitute
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