Gustavo Part Deux

I was really professional today. I stood in the street and called Gustavo an IDIOT. And a MOTHERFUCKER. Twice. I was cleaning the bedroom and drinking coffee when he called and asked me not to park my car in front of his house anymore. I told him it's a public street. He kept insisting that it's his, in his horrible English. Something inside me clicked and I hit the space bar and there it was. MOTHERFUCKER. So much for neighbourly relations. Now what? He can tell me to go back to my country where La Guera people live. And I can tell him to go shove another pupusa in his fat face and I can park in front of his house and he can park in front of mine and it's a German-Salvadorian stand-off. But what it comes down to is that he has three huge trucks and takes up all the spaces in front of our house, so I'm supposed to park up the street in front of the mental hospital with my baby, and schlepp him a whole block. MOTHERFUCKER.