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I visited my pal Thomas The Bookbinder after picking up my test certificate today. We sat next door at the Gasthaus while he ate and I drank and we talked. I loaned him a couple of CDs to listen to until we meet again. I meant to take a lot of pics of his shop and him but I forgot. Next time.
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Grafitti. B says its a pun and basically not translatable.
"Secure at making people insecure" is the best she could do.
When I dug out money to pay the bill, I came across some dollars. Thomas hasn't seen American money so I let him look through it. There was a twenty there. "Do you know about Andrew Jackson?" I asked.
"No."
"He liked to murder Indians," I said. "So let me show you what I do with Mr. Jackson." I took out a pen and made a word balloon next to Jackon's head that said "I MURDER INDIANS." Then I drew a Hitler mustache on Jackson and wrote the numerals 666 on his forehead.
"What means '666'?" Thomas asked. (He knew what meant the mustache.)
So I told him the story of The Rapture or The Rupture or whatever the fuck it's called, and the so-called Mark Of The Beast, and that other comic book bullshit from the Bible about the "End Times."
"Do people really believe in this?" Thomas asked.
"Buddy, you wouldn't believe what people believe in the good ol' USA."
"Maybe it is good you are moving to Austria," he said.
"No maybe about it, man...."
