Crime is like tomato sauce – there are many types, versions and kinds, and getting it just right takes patience and practice. The timing has to be just right and you can’t just use any tomatoes to get the job done. And sometimes you have to improvise with gun powder.
Now, those of you who actually deign to read Stanko & Tibor — probably in private, in the dark or in a closet with a flash light, lest you be outed as a deviant fan of this handcrafted, visual gem that once was called by the National Board of Psychologists, Psychotherapists, Physiotherapists and Psychiatrists as “messed up” — are wondering to yourselves, “how could he credibly compare crime and tomato sauce in the same breath?”
Quite simple, actually. Allergy medication, two large, sugary chocolate danishes for breakfast and an insurmountable deficit of sleep have all come together over the past week and conspired to give you this installment of Stanko & Tibor and the theme of crime and incompetence.
And these two deeply intertwined topics are present every day that I walk past the multiple construction sites that surround my place of work, knowing full well they are being done with shoddy workmanship and half the “proceeds” going to the Fund for Overfed Mafiosi and probably a slice to the mayor and the party in power too. Don’t even get me started on the extortionist approach of the protesting students while they tweet on their iPhones. But I digress as the evening progresses.
Now with the start of June here, the green grasses grow quickly(when it isn’t so dang cold in the evenings), the trimmers and mowers work their magic and the kids run about til late in the evening, shouting and coming into the house with filthy feet and subsequently filthifying the bathtub when we force a shower on them. And it is with these summery thoughts and images in your head that I bid you adieu for another week or two until I get around to the last installment on this topic of crime and self-punishment.
Enjoy the weather, eat some non-criminal tomato sauce, and eat a lot of fiber. A recipe for happiness if there ever was one.
Truly and deeply yours,
Gustavo del Fuego Drukero