Well, It’s been an uphill battle being Jonny Cigar. Pardon me, do you know where the restroom is? Sorry, the whu? I mean to bathroom. What for, you want to take a bath? You mean the toilet? It’s right through there down the caddy hang an arm through the lift, straight away on yer right, left dependin on when ya comin throw the rye. What? I said, comin throw thre – never mind. It was six days before I was able to relieve myself. I wired American Express last week and had Tony, my personal the concierge, book me a flight to Glasgow. Tony told me he heard the rivers ran with scotch and the countryside was nothing but barley fields and grain alcohol ran in the sewers and gutters and whiskey fell from the sky, and the sun never shown. I believed him, because he’s an honest American. He’s a devout Catholic and God-fearing Christian. Tony told me he wrote in Pope John Paul the II for President in the recent US election. I’m not a citizen, so I didn’t care one way or the other, Bill Clinton seems like a nice guy, so I hope he gets it, and I think they already made a decision anyway, I don’t know, blow, crow. Point is this: I am a polite human being and I think that having to ask where I go to take a “piss” or “shit” is mildly inappropriate, but the Scottish don’t know any other way of asking. Pardon me is something you say if you “bump” wind. And excuse me is like saying to North Korea, don’t you just love West Korea? And asking for the restroom confuses these people. Haggis starts coming out their arses an’ overpriced glasses of Talisker trickles out their snout-holes, the dirty filthy heathen mutant pigs! ChrikeoChristianMotherLand! I fit in after I walked around yellin, “doesn anyone know where I can let loose this brick I been holdin onto the last 3 hours?” and “where in Jesus’s tomb can I fill up a barrel with a kilo of piss and chips? I started pushing people and calling out to women on the streets. I tried to start fights with every person I came across, especially in church. Before leaving they tried giving me the Scottish crown jewels and scepter. But I told them I don’t wear dandy-doodles, that I leave that for the you know whats an they begged me to stay. But I told them I had dogs to fry and fish to walk and anyway Tony had made me a reservation at the Olive Garden in Times Square. He made it for two and told me to expect a woman named Rose to meet me there. I’m pretty sure Tony’s last name is Rose… but I can’t take any chances. See, I may not have a thing at all, but I got lots of plans for tomorrow…just you wait…
