Carlo and the Japanese Journalists

I’m not sure if I woke up as the curmudgeon or the invalid. Maybe I’m still both. I woke up to the tinny and endless sound of horrible music coming out of Guapo’s cell phone. (I’ve recently learned that the young muscly and fashionable guy with the cell phone is referred to as Guapo or “Guaps” by everyone here.) The music got worse and worse …