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Chris in Bulgaria Bodgan grunted, spitting out his stump of a cigarette and grabbing his two most precious items. Stepping out of his modest BMW van, he carried his thermos of coffee and his lunch box. In the early morning rain, the night guard walked out of the Border Crossing office without so much as a by your leave. Stepping into the Customs office that stood on the border of Bulgaria and Roumania, Bodgan grunted and poured himself a cup of coffee. Already there, early as usual was his coworker. “Hey Ivo, any news on the Ridonculous race?” Ivo didn’t look up from the gay porn magazine splashed with Russian letters and Russian cum. “Episode was cancelled today. The race went onto a some rich guy’s private pedophile island and it all went south from there. The show may be cancelled.” “Mother fucker!” Bogdan choked on his coffee. “What the fuck? It was just getting good?” “Yeah yeah, get it out of your system, Bogi,” Ivo turned to another page where a couple of Russian