Morocco Beach

This is pretty easy to draw: The Morrocan guy gets out of his dorm. There is a lighter in his right hand. The cigarrete is already on fire. He moves his feet with stile, opening his feet in the form of V, walking slowly, just to tell everybody that he is the man. There is even an ideal profile to show in his portraits. "I am La Class, honey". " I am not a fu$%&ing terrorist, I am La class!"

He walks just until Sheetz, perhaps until Standing Stone, but not far away from his dorm -nobody enjoys the perfect combination of Mocca and caramel and vanilla as he does-. There is always a taximen waiting for him to go shopping. His pants are getting smaller, he needs to renew his closet with Armani. His coat and his glasses' frames match perfectly. Without glasses he could be confused with David Beckhamp (read it like that, with french accent). And no matter snow or hot weather, he likes showing his chest. Exercise is his second name, eventhough he breaths Marlboro twice after going classes, and a box of it in a day. Nobody calls him El Gordo anymore at home, but he does MUSCULATION, just in case, for the chicas! Wait for him, chicas, he is very sexy! He knows what good music is, where in the World is Jamaica, and you should see how he moves the hips!!

Oh Abdes! There is a beach here in Uruguay with your name, a chair and a sit in the front of the car (shotgun!) for you, man! La class is waiting for you. Your madrina is fulfilling her fridge with beers. I just have to warn you about your favorite word, fu&%$!, 'cause my mom knows English very well. But it is ok. The only thing you need is to put that gorgeus face in front of mom and dad, and everything that could come from you mouth is gonna be accepted. Miss you honey. You know.