up and down Belgrade Serbia you get free saliva galore

 what if 240 Bravo was available to the command on June 25th, 1876 ? ?  ? and Im talking Bravo not the Gatling guns

this is how it works [in my Serbian sandboxed life] nowadays - - went to Metro zemun supermarket yesterday; when I came back to my car there was saliva drooling down my windshield. same thing today and I was parked in the boondocks, a place almost impossible to find. that means - either the entire city is in the know about harassment and getting right on it or this tactical spitting group has excellent logistics. most likely a portable GPS tracking device was attached to my vehicle so they can locate me fast anywhere in Serbia. most likely, their idea must have been to get to me thinking that I won’t get over it – misjudging my sensitivity level. however, what really should bother those that keep me here [against my will; i am so itching for one adios mother fuckers, concluding salute] is the fact that these guys’ logistics are so great - they should at least be given the honor. on the other side of the medal, the city of Belgrade has been obsessed with the cult of Walther, a communist hero who was impossible to find - well in the movie at least. so finding them will be a tough one. from that point of view here is the improved quote from the most famous Yugoslav communist movie of all time:

-Merkwürdig! Seit ich in Belgrad bin, suche ich Walter und finde ihn nicht. Jetzt, wo ich gehen muss, weiß ich wer er ist.

-Sie wissen wer Walter ist?! Sagen Sie mir sofort seinen Namen!

-Ich werde ihn Ihnen zeigen... Sehen Sie diese Stadt? Das ist Walter!

the new wave of serbian harassment and persecution actually began after my previous maxi autokomanda supermarket post where someone somehow drew out that I was not the American spy (a general idea spawn throughout serbia up till now - sounded like a combination of rumor and intelligence) with probable United States credentials and protection. the can of worms was opened again and all of a sudden i got many hyenas on my serbian bloodtrail. now - there is a new spit on my windshield every day and it could have been worse.

at any rate, as hard as that is to believe, these days I mustered up enough strength to complete the second work titled the last regard, which is also the homage to Colonel Muammar Gaddafi who I believe was the Cheyenne war chief at the Little Big Horn in one of his previous mortal appearances. the first last regard homage [another collage] was to honor Lemmy Kilmister of Motorhead who always appealed to me because he appeared as the reincarnation of 7^th Cavalry trooper that perhaps fought at the Little Big Horn (unsure if actually fought or may have been on detached duty); he brings the 45°33'32.39" N -107°25'26.39" W - June 1876 vibe nevertheless, comes to think of it he might have even been the mystery white man shooting at private Thompson on his retrograde toward Reno's command accompanied by either Taylor or Campbell [the white man's Indian companion.]