A-ha! I am back again! My regualar readers and followers (sup Polly) will have noticed that I have have been conspiciously absent from the blogosphere. It is, i must say, an occurance not of my own doing. I cannot talk about my enforced absence least to say it was a secret undercover operation in and around the small town of Juan del Grijalva in southern Mexico. I have spent the last few months tracking a daring band of ruthless chavs in aid of recovering hundreds and hundreds of NZ$ worth of gold bullion that was taken in a spectacular raid on the Reserve Bank in my hometown of Wellington, New Zealand. A second summer romance kept me there a little longer than expected. Pacienca was a lovely little chiquita, ugly as sin but she owned and ran her own Tequila farm which made things mostly bearable. Eventually, inevitably, I sobered up and resolutly made my way home.
I say home but in my absence things had changed, bent beyond immediate, instaneous recognition. My hillside fortress, now abandoned, lay empty upon my arrival. The is no replacing the last of my coinquilino's, the inimitable Ricardo von Gamenstien (left to pursue online matters after believing preceding rumours of my untimely demise) so I simply have not tried. The fort is quiet now, I sometimes wander its halls, watching the ghosts of parties past, listening to the pukeko chirp their lonely, haunting song. Not often though. I am usually too busy watching sports in my underwear or listening to Katy Perry a little bit too loudly. I will hole down for the winter, trying to sate my thirst for knowledge before rebuilding a new gang for spring. Smokey Thebandito may have been gone for months, his gang dispersed to all (2) corners of Wellington. But his reputation still rides in his saddle with him. And that alone will see his former glory return to him.
You may hear from soon, my Thebanditoites, or you may hear from me not soon. Whatever it may be, until then, please watch Community.