(Text needed to be changed from "only one thing can stop true love between two people..." due to re-found American morality.  Thank you for saving us.)

Once we saw Uncle P. walking down the street with a very secure pace. We wandered what happened since generally he was hanging from his supermarket cart more then pushing it.  My friend quickly dug into the garbage bin close to him and pulled out an empty bottle of some sort of juice.  Small little bottle, we wandered if it was going to be enough for a good piece of wisdom.   We walked towards him matching his confident jive. We crossed the street and handed the loot.  He was wearing a skirt, a red skirt with big white flowers around the bottom.  We looked at him like he was naked, he looked at us with a sure grin and with his sandpaper voice said:

 

One time I was walking by the elementary school when Uncle P. jumped out of the ally, looked at me with his eyes wide open, showing all his white an asked me with his scratched trough... "Do you have a glass bottle?". I quickly opened my military salvaged beg and pulled out a full bottle of orange juice and handed it to him.  He shook his head in approval, opened it, drank avidly half of it, tossed the second half splashing his own feet and said:

Ok, so a lot of my friends read my blog and they all thought it is a bit too dark colored.... Well, I said... If you grew up following uncle P words of wisdom, like I did, you would be a little jaded too.  Uncle P is not really my uncle, actually he's nobody's uncle... or maybe everybody has an uncle like that... whatever... in my case it was a bum that lived in the dumpster by my school and gave out advices in exchange for empty glass bottles.  Maybe he didn't spread the kind of wisdom that everybody can use or should use, in fact, the first advice he ever gave was "never follow my advice", but glass bottles are easy to come by and little towns don't offer much entertainment...  See, Uncle P had this problem with his throat that made is voice sound like a cheese-grater and it was all because once he ate a broken glass bottle on a bet. Unfortunately the shards scratched his vocal cords first and his other sound emitting orifice next, causing him irreparable damage on both ends. His luck started changing right then.  "You try holding a job, any job, when you sounds like a gaddamm washboard and you shit in your pants all the times" he used to say.  He had a point.  So his mission in life was to eliminate all glass bottles from the face of the earth by collecting them and taking them down to the recycling center.  "Burn you bitches" he yelled to every shopping card full of bottles he took to the slaughterhouse.  He had a mission Uncle P, not like the other bums that did it for the money.  He had a mission and to achieve it he had to have his own wisdom.  I tell you though, his wisdom should be taken with a grain of salt, well, to be fair it should be taken with a pair of surgical gloves and some disinfectant.  So never the less, I'll publish a few of his words every day.

Here's the first: