The Office of Jim Trainer
Between Temple&the Bad Road
Bat Manor, TX
G.Razas
Below the Devil’s Navel
Medellin, Colombia
2/9/12
9:27pm
Mi Hermano en Brazos-
I’ll spare you sage advice about ditching gringoes in order to find the right Sex Hotel for your stay in a strange land. I mean, Colombia’s the motherland for you, right? They’re YOUR people. For all I know, those people think you’re Quezicotl and right now you’re covered in white lotus flowers on a bamboo throne and sipping Cat’s Claw on the beach.
What do I know? I’m just a dayworker and a hapless Yanqui living in Paradise. Just wanted to drop you a line and wish you the best for your moratorium below the Devil’s Navel.
And to ask a favor.
Can you procure something from the Houngan-Man that will help me run this voodoo down?
I’m kind of scared, or lucky, but probably both.
It all began with that woman. We were stowed away like snow bunnies and hiding from the holidays. But when I woke up on New Year’s Day I knew I would have to leave that old dream behind me. That’s when things got a little screwy.
I remember backing down her drive with her on the hood until she rolled off onto the lawn. She was screaming and cursing at me in a language I couldn’t understand. Something about negro mágico and other incomprehensible nonsense. I don’t remember much else.
I came to at a place called Earl Campbell’s, by Gate 15 at ABIA, last Thursday; with no memory whatsoever and no recollection of 30days prior. The only explanation I can come up with is Black Magick G, and that’s bad. I broke free of her but days are Dark&Heavy at Bat Manor. They closed the pool and a bad depression is crouching down.
I’d like to believe that no red-haired witch is gonna shut old Jimbo down. I mean, it would take more than some million-heiress’ juju to stop the Fun Train, right G?
Just bring back a little bag of mojo, if you can, for your brother.
I like you and your people. You’ve always been good to me.
En la Victoria.
the Nightman
Bat Manor, TX
Going for the Throat 