I am teaching english in a small town in mexico and i rent a tiny house on a dead end Street that ends in the woods.

I am on the frontier. No internet, no fridge, no ac, just a fan and sweat and peace.

I am finally over the rage that filled me as a citizen of my former country. I finally have time to focus my thoughts and make one more great move in my life. To a tiny beach town. I am looking for a single mother who lives near the beach.

I am friggin John Wayne reincarnated, the quiet man, trying to settle in in Mexico. A foot taller than the locals, I walk hunched forward like a young teen girl just hitting puberty, slightly embarrassed by my physical beauty. Not wanting to show off. Humble.

It has been made abundantly clear that I should steer clear of the local cantinas with thier flocks of butterflies and soft taunts of 'gringo' and 'trump'. Soft taunts because I am such a physical specimen. Godzilla has landed. I don't want no trouble podner....

So I guess i better get to work on my autobiography while i have time and space. That rugby luxury, space to opérate and time to start some shit. I miss the game but i no longer care about twisting other humans backs into knots. I have never been this old. I tell myself i am a better person now, 50 pounds lighter, 200 percent less angry......