After that, things got hot and heavy. What I mean is, up to that point, we’d talked a lot, but in the two hours the business magnate spent resting in my company, we barely talked at all. He was too busy paying homage to three of the most important orifices of my organism. I’m not going to tell you which ones.

[...] Queti started out with me in porn, but she had serious problems with her figure. She started popping every kind of amphetamine she could lay her hands on, but even then she could barely control her appetite. Now she doesn’t care anymore because she’s decided to give up porn and devote herself to music. Sex means nothing to her now. Her real hobbies are fatty foods, soft drugs, and rock and roll. When it comes to fats, her favorites are bacon, Galician empanadas, and tripe. With drugs, she keeps telling me “hard” drugs are so passé, that “the latest thing” is soft drugs, but at, like, OD levels. In other words, she smokes a pound of weed before leaving the house, and when she goes to a club, she’ll drink, like, four quarts of alcohol (she considers alcohol a soft drug). All this, together with entire bottles of Minilip, Bustaid, and Dexedrine. She’s not trying to lose weight anymore, but she still takes amphetamines out of force of habit.

So, the other day, we were in one of those nightclubs that have a restaurant upstairs, waiting for Queti to be served the second banana split and they’re playing “Controversy” by Prince so, over the bass line, we started improvising a rap. It was something like “Suck it to me. Suck it to me babe. Suck it to me. Suck it to me now. After dinner. Before dinner. After lunch. Before lunch. After breakfast. Before breakfast. After flan. Before flan. Suck it to me,” and so on. We really got into the groove and I have to admit it wasn’t half bad. She said we should record a single. Side A: “Bloated by Fats” (referring to her face), Side B: “Cheekbones by Drugs” (meaning mine). Since she’s decided to be fat, Queti has lost the ability to appreciate great cheekbones like mine. The single more generally would be called “Pure Trash.”

Back in Madrid, I found out people had been trying to track me down to make a photo-novel, Sows. In the plot, I’m a girl who’s living on the outskirts of Madrid, my father has a farm rearing pigs, and I’ve spent all my life around them. My father hires a farmhand to help me with the work and the farmhand falls in love with me and my father falls in love with him, which complicates things a lot, because while I don’t have the hots for the farmhand, I sure do have a thing for pigs. I’ve just never known any other kind of love. Just as he’s about to propose to me, I confess my bestial tendencies. And before he has time to be heartbroken, my father shows up, punches him, and kills him. I flee in terror, leaving my father with the dead farmhand. I’m hitchhiking, and I get picked up by a guy. After talking to him for a bit, he comes to the conclusion that I’m his daughter. When I was a baby, the nanny sold me, and no one ever heard of me or the nanny ever again.