When I was walking across Patagonia a former transvestite prostitute said I could stay with him in Rio Grande Tierra del Fuego. So duh I stayed with him 4 nights, and danced to Whitney Houston.

During the Macri presidency the tax laws changed and all manufacturing in Tierra del Fuego ceased. It was an exodus. My friend had to leave.

2.5 years ago I found him living in the fucking villa with his 94 year old mother and drunk brother who stole from them. He wouldn't even let me in his house, it was too disgusting. He was trapped in poverty.

When I got back home I immediately gave him money for a plane ticket so he and his mom could escape back to Tierra del Fuego. Being poor is way better in the campo than in Buenos Dirty Aires. "Don't you dare go to the Western Union near your house," I told him.

He actually bought the plane tickets with the money and left with his mom, now he is alive again. He built his life back from scratch, and he has never once asked me for money, never.

I would like to take credit, but he did it all. If someone gave me 500 bucks it wouldn't do anything. But he took it and made flowers. His mom hasnt gotten covid because they aren't in a big city ghetto, and he is thriving. You can find the first half of the story in my book, the chapter is "The Greatest Man in Tierra del Fuego."

This picture is for his mom, I call her my grandma, and she loves nebulas. She is the oldest woman on earth. And yes it is oversaturated, but she told me she loved colors, and this is for her.