We used to go down to the beach every morning at ten o'clock, me and my friend 'Wood Hand', to look at the asses of the famous girls from Rio. 'Wooden Hand': they called him that because one morning he had had the inopportune idea of doing his laundry from the lifeboat, lowered into the water for the occasion, and while he was soaping his underwear, an enterprising shark had eaten his left hand. "An ass is an ass!" he said. "I disagree!" I retorted. And we passed time discussing the subject, lying in the sun, surrounded by Brazilian asses.
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