Photo - DIRTY NET

Ok there is finally a pic of Cocopabana Bach Rio - Do not ask me who took it - I found it on the PC in our not so favorite `Dirty Net´ cafe (flea ridden,however it is open ´till midnight so we love it).
Basically I have to use ´Hello Picasso´ to download pics. But you have to have your pics on the PC to make this simple (in theory) transaction and I have not got a Danny (Danny La Rue - Clue. Cockney slang again, sorry) how to it - without taking permanent residency in Dirty Net.
Although it is pissing it down for the 10th consecutive day - yeah - Laugh all you ant at least I am not working and it does not get dark until at least 8pm, I now cannot, even if I wanted to stay in Dirty Net for too Long due to a certain Rodriguez.
Last night I was typing like a fiend, pounding the keys with such intensity it sounded like I was stuck in a bomb blasted building trying to Morse code-it the hell out a there, and I noticed a stranger peering over his station. You know the typical ugly Brazilian? - Now that is hard to find, but I managed. As he moved to pay the cashier he approached me and asked if I was German. No comment! He then said he had emailed me on my hotmail account after peeping a look over my shoulder as I typed a PERSONAL email. "Sorry I am with a friend, please leave me alone", was my polite reply. I would have sworn but the only swearing they understand is Mother F*#@er and that is not in my usual repertoire! If you do know me - You will make a few stab in the dark guesses of a few choice ones, however will instantly know I never use that phrase. So off he went.
I immediately checked my hotmail account and sure enough he had mailed me saying he wanted to chat Is this what these cafes are coming to, a cheap and cheerful way to pull without the offer of even a beverage? Not that I am cheap, ´cause a kebab would have to be on offer if I was even gonna look at ya!
So picture the scene, Sarah is laughing as this guy had made a bit of a stir in the cafe,well,it was me gabbing it across the room telling her the tale that drew people´s attention to me, then the phone rang.
"Oi, you!" (cashier lady´s finger now pointing in my direction, then pointing at receiver).
"Me?"(along with the finger everyone in the cafe´s eyes were now pointing in my direction).
Immediately I thought I was getting a "Someone´s died you have to pack your ruck sack and get your ass back home" type of call.
"Oi, Jo, It´s Rodriguez, will you come drink now?"
"Do you know the translation for stalker?"
"Stoorka?"
"No, STALKER,LOOK IT UP IN THE DICTIONARY", and with that I slammed the phone down - well, you know, I have the full attention of the cafe by this point and with an audience, well, fair play!
So that was that little incident - I was shocked to say the least - Now if only it had been a Speedo wearing-even at midnight in the rain-horny-footvolley playing type of guy, it may have been a different story!