Lobo Mao - poet, patriot, pastry cheif. Raised in the war-torn region of Santa Yerba Buena in the north Barbary Coast region of Terra del Orro. The child of non-partisan separtist bohemians, Lobo Mao survived the sexual revolution, the bonfire of the vanities, and the burger wars and fought for freedom as a black music marketeer. Banished to New Manhattan to study criticism for a period no less than four years, el Lobo gained that ever so important global perspective and an appreciation for cannolli. Upon returning to his homeland. he found that so much of what he had held dear had been almost completely erased by several years of conservative leadership imposing values and ideals onto an appathetic soceity. That and money was screwing everything up. Now he fights a never ending battle for freedom with a loose assortments of artists, free thinkers and truffles, calling themselves "los churros". his writings are soon to be delicious. Despite despirate bleating goats and goatheard telling tall tales, el lobo wears his leather dear. I have a quarrel with your dog, it shits on my shrubs and makes my roses smell to high heaven. since the dog is yours I assume so is the excrement. take only what is yours and leave the rest for others to enjoy. the problem with punctuality is noone is ever around to appreciate it. the problem with punctuation is that it is the end of everything. the problem with money is that it tells you what you can and cannot do; big words from a piece of paper - tear it in two; not so tough now, are you? love like you write, write like you love | 
Sexo: