UM TRABALHO DE MOURO, OU UM ESTRANHOL NO TRABALHO (MILLÔR), OU UM ATRAPALHO NO TRABALHO (LEMINSKI)... DE QUALQUER FORMA É UM LIVRO DE JOHN LENNON NO ORIGINAL E COM TEXTO INTEGRAL...

A SPANIARD IN THE WORKS

Jesus El Pifco was a foreigner and he knew it. He had imigrate-ful from his little white slum in Barcelover a good thirsty year ago having first secured the handy job as coachman in Scotland. The job was with the Laird of McAnus, a canny old tin whom have a castle in the Highlads. The first thing Jesus EI Pifco noticed in early the days was that the Laird didn't seem to have a coach of any discription or even a coach house you know, much to his dismable. But - and I use the word lightly – the Laird did seem to having some horses, each one sporting a fine pair of legs. Jesus fell in love with them at first sight, as they did with him, which was lucky, because his quarters were in the actually stables along side his noble four lepered friends. Pretty polly one could see Jesus almost every day, grooming his masters horses, brushing their manebits and hammering their teeth, whistling a quaint Spanish refrain dreaming of his loved wombs back home in their little white fascist bastard huts. A well pair of groomed horses I must say,' he would remark to wee Spastic Sporran the flighty chamberlain, whom he'd had his good eye on eversince Hogmanose. Nae sa bad' she would answer in her sliced Aberdeen-martin accent. 'Ye spend more time wi' yon horses than ye do wi' me, with that she would storm back to her duties, carefully tying her chastity negro hardly to her skim. Being a good catholic, Jesus wiped the spit from his face and turned the other cheese - but she had gone leaving him once small in an agatha of christy. One dave she woll go too farther, and I woll leaf her he said to his fave rave horse. Of course the horse didn't answer, because as you know they cannot speak, least of all to a garlic eating, stinking, little yellow greasy fascist bastard catholic Spaniard. They soon made it up howevans and Jesus and wee Spastic were once morphia unitely in a love that knew no suzie. The only thing that puzzled Jesus was why his sugarboot got so annoyed when he called her his little Spastic in public. Little wonder howeapon, with her real name being Patrick, you see? Ye musna call me Spastic whilst ma friends are here Jesus ma bonnie wee dwarf' she said irragated. But I cannot not say Patrick me little tartan bag' he replied all herb and angie inside. She looked down at him through a mass of naturally curly warts. But Spastic means a kind of cripple in English ma sweet wee Jesus, and ai'm no cripple as you well known! That's true enough said he 'but I didn't not realize being a foreigner and that, and also not knowing your countries culture and so force, and anywait I can spot a cripple anywhere. He rambled on as Patrick knelt down lovingly with tears in her eye and slowly bit a piece of his bum. Then lifting her face upwarts, she said with a voice full of emulsion Can ye heffer forgive me Jesus, can ye? she slobbed. He looked at her strange-ly as if she were a strangely, then taking her slowly right foot he cried; Parreesy el pino a strevaro qui bueno el franco senatro! which rugby transplanted means - 'Only if you´ve got green braces' - and fortunately she had.... (Continua)

(Continuação aqui: They were married in the fallout...)

JOHN LENDO A SPANIARD IN THE WORKS<

DESENHOS DE LENNON PARA SEUS LIVROS (COM A MÚSICA TOMORROW NEVER KNOWS)