Well, just FUCK me raw witrh a flavour straw,,,,,

As we potty-mouthed kids used to say in the Sixties.

We had no idea what it MEANT, but it was just a saying when you got fully knocked down inside by something.

And it came back to me tonight after reading that Hillary is only suspending her canderature.

I have a mess of adjectives I will NOT use this evening, but 'vindictive' is uppermost in my mind.

I've spent all afternoon trying to help a neighbor find his son. A little five year old boy who disappeard with his Mom in Ethiopia. It was nerve-wrenching for me. 'We have a trace, but it is not certain that it will be good.' The guy needs my English to write what he needs. I did what I could...

It was emotionally draining, believe me.

The guy loves his son. He was a mercenary.

Which brings us round again to 'that woman'. No. Just..... no...

Whelp, just when you think you thought you 'knew' someone...

it turns out you did not.

One should be very careful with what they 'think' another person is like.

This concerns the guy who many years ago joined the French Foreign Legion.

It has been an odd day.

He had asked me a few days ago to help him find his soon to be six year old son, because the letters and the money he was sending was 'inconnu' (not known, moved...) He is escaping again in August to another place in Africa, and asked me to help him find him per pc. So today, we got down to it.

Thanks to his advisories, I found a place, and sent them a mail with all the perinent infos. It was sort of heart-breaking.

When I first got there, R. was out of it, and didn't keep a promise----yet again.

W. was showing me his dating site, and R. was off the charts for what was I looking at women for? Whaa? Women can be pretty. Gawd, is he dense. Doesn't he know about bi now, gay later? Idjit.

So I pulled up one of the ones on my site, clicked on the profile, and said, 'Oh, LOOK, R.! A six pack to DIE for! And check out that basket!' eeeewww.

That shut him up.

(Ja, I can be acid when it calls for it....)

R. left. Good so. I spent three hours trying to tune W's computer. I think he has a long-term case of PTSD. After all the places he has been, it wouldn't surprise me.

The night I met him, I thought he would rip me apart, just for being a former American.

But he didn't.

He is very very cool. But always inward looking. And nice and never lets out what is really bothering him.

If I can have just a pinch of success in helping him find his son, that will be wonderful.

We talked for a long time.

He broke my heart.