Monday, December 1, 2008

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"SECRETARY" FOR A DAY IN


I've been a student, I was goalkeeper for soccer, I boxed a little, I was an archaeologist with two neighborhood friends with whom desenterrábamos skulls in an ancient cemetery of little importance, I have been a pawn in a soft drink bottling company, I have been working on a power company, I have been a student again, I've been a cartoonist, I've been a photographer, I worked in the press, I have tattoos, I work as a state employee, I am also a graphic designer and publicist, I think having played in a bit of everything, but as of Monday if I could not tolerate this Monday, I went (without mariconada) a Barbona secretary.
work As I told a state entity whose name I do not remember and just this Monday, to my unhappiness, missed the diligent and friendly management secretary. That affects us all as she solves his experience almost every bureaucratic problems easily. Unfortunately, just as I approached his office, just getting to work, my boss came out and before I could no reaction, he said, Mauritius, Jessica will not come, so you get yourself in their position.
I can not describe the feeling I was seized by mortal. I saw myself for a moment with my bull's body clad in a miniskirt, high heels and tail. There can be no right I thought. This is an abuse.
If I had seen in those jogging!, answering a phone that kept ringing until I disconnected from pure male, looking for jobs that did not know they existed and where they were putting seals wrong, undermining important documents, sending the club to a central office staff Lima without wanting wanting, all this while enduring the jeers of my coworkers (most indefinite sex) who told me to fuck Jessiquita. It was chaos.
For all the bad luck comes to an end. And the day ended. When I got home to bed after Santino, my son, and inspect Facundo, my other son, was well covered, I kissed my wife with all my strength, I raised weight and led to the double bed we shared and then ... I can not tell the others, but you can imagine. Demostrame I did it to myself as I am male and convince me that everything bad the day was just a bitter experience. But after all, and now recovering with a good showered yet again the horrible sight of my bull's body clad in a miniskirt, high heels and tail, and the terrible memories of my coworkers fags calling Jessiquita. ! That hatched The

Friday, November 21, 2008

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LA GUERRILLA



The guerrilla walks on the tarmac far from the capital of France, not knowing that as I said tango "old Paris is fed with the short end of the magnolia brutal in the snow ..."

We are partners for over 28 years, and that we stop seeing and knowing that we are about 24. That's crazy life. But today, almost 4 years we have become one inseparable accomplices and friends. I admire her strength, courage, and sadness. I admire Paris to have survived a cold, indifferent, distant. the guerrilla asks nothing, only occasionally is close despite the miles that separate, despite the time, despite how different our lives.

I can say is my best friend, I give title despite its not me best friend, sometimes I'm even a bit of your enemy. However, guerrilla, I want you to know that you are always with me, even though my words may be misinterpreted by those who do not conceive that a friendship can exceed the limits of love to become brotherhood, love of a father to a daughter or a mother towards a child, in your case. How strange it not, only we will understand and it will be until the end of our days.

There are links that can break, such as sadness, that we are patches guerrilla our grief, our sadness, our fear of the future, all that unites us. Although your sorrows are advanced as 5 hours.

So please
guerrilla far as Paris to walk the streets who may never step on, sit here in Tacna, so far and so close, there is a guerrilla who remembers you and that could not hide, I miss her so.

I tell you with my heart in my hand, my way. I say no more.
















Tuesday, November 18, 2008

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PARIS NATIONAL BANK "OR PRISON?


Today was a quiet day until one the later. At that time I went to the National Bank of civic tour to send a money order for my daughter Fernanda. I input all the heat down this spring that brought me. Not if you've heard this advice says that you should never open the fridge with hot body, probably yes, but the fact that the clever engineers at National Bank does not, as it passes through the front door I dropped a blast glacier wind killer from these sophisticated air conditioning that left me broken body with a cough that promises to asthma and back colder than blood murderer.

I had not fully recovered from Patagonian torture that I received when I saw that there was a huge queue to access the windows. And once again convinced me of the asshole I am. Only I happen to come to this hour, when all people think that there are fewer people and that comes at this time. The queue was so long that for a moment I felt a Cuban Havana, waiting for the weekly ration of food.

Of the more than ten points of the modern agency that has worked only four, graciously served by gracious ladies who whispered to them, they disappeared in the corridors, looked at the forks of the hair, watched her French manicure, humming romantic ballads and then catered to the public.

Tome
time since I put in the queue until I attended in my modern Casio cachina purchased twenty mangos, and lo and behold, had lost an hour and a half of my life looking at dandruff on the back of my predecessor, almost like a paparazzi spying curves satanic ricotona more than one client, listening to the conversation of a lady on a cellphone, which is forbidden, giving instructions on preparing marinated chicken, trying to decipher the movement of the camera security, making eyes at a girl who looked like a hardened reggetonera, counting the bills that would give him in window number three to one with a reputation for fiscal known coimero, trying to fit my monthly bills without success, pulling the beard of despair and nibbling from a deadly brawl over and have to spend as much time in a bank that does not work even half of capacity. All this while in a modern LCD TVs, the twenty Zambo Cavero once sang the waltz, "National Bank, Bank of Peruvians." I swear if ever I see Zambo, despite the great affection that I have, I take a trip by roe sad liar.

I just went to send a money order, and so I lost my lunch, I burst with anger and ended up with a barking cough that likely need drugs. That asshole.


Wednesday, November 12, 2008

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TANGO: THE SHAME OF BEING AND THE PAIN AND NOT ... FIRST COUNCIL FOR OBAMA


I like the tango as much as life. I like the tango as well as an evening with friends. I think the tango more than just a musical trend (if it is valid the name) is a lifestyle. It is a way of standing. Is a form of smoking. Bitching is a form of bad luck. It is a way of looking at a woman on the street.

It's different to walk walk walk in the rhythm of tango. It's different to say that I love you I love the rhythm of tango. It's different to be made the male the male tango rhythm.

Tango lets
look at life with disdain, look over his shoulder, as always knowing you won before you impose challenges.

The tango is music, melody, but more than that is a composition, is poetry. How to explain such verses as: "Mary, the mine, far away, if I were one morning through the streets of goodbye", or "your eyes are dark as oblivion, your lips tight as resentment, your hands are cold two doves , your veins are blood bandoneon. It too, is feeling. Clear, understandable only to those with the puck in the heart that makes you understand the beautiful things without asking too much.

But tango is also interpretation, from Gardel to Gata Varela, through Edmundo Rivero, Susana Rinaldi, Hugo Sosa, Cacho Chestnut or Polaco Goyeneche, my old favorite, unique, harsh, direct. The great "throat with sand."

If you stop to analyze different points of tangos, you'll find more than one is a life lesson, a string of tips and experiences. The tango is not as simple as the Peruvian waltz, with exceptions of course, not as bright as the Mexican ranchera, which is almost always crying out loud, whether you're male boots, mustaches and guns. The tango, I think, has more poetry to my beloved bolero. The tango is more elegant, though uncouth. The tango is more sober, though born among chorus girls and hoodlums. This is the guy who left the district and won the big city, but he never forgot the little cafe around the corner. It is the lover who made love to the ladies of high society but always saved the best for his heart to his girlfriend dressed in calico. The tango is "the shame of having been and the pain of not being anymore."

If someone asks me why the tango, as only atinaré to answer: Because tango is male, because the tango is strong, it smells of life, like death. And do not say more.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

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for Obama to distance

I send this song mia

because I am happy that a black

suddenly becomes president

and master of

Co. Your

black

having much of Africa burning

can not be lazy

to the pain they have caused your bad


soldiers called in different nations.


why Obama wanted

black man as

far removed first

borders
your bad invaders

change guns with flowers

change the life death

also will not stain your

with all that blood of others

because the blood from his hands

bleach does not rise.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Scott Kay Artiste Engagement

a little anecdote BREAST

Mama Lula was a sunny morning in May over two years. His body, dam of cancer, chose to rest despite his young heart that would not surrender. It was a good woman, who had solutions for everything with a strength and not see any in this world. I do not think death is the end of anything. Still present in every part of the family home like yesterday. I think the same happens to my old, who feels to get some nights down the corridor overlooking the LIBRARY and patio.
mine is not loneliness, not sadness, is simply absent, his physical absence. But I still feel your hug, your scent, your peace of mind to the bigger problems. This temple as Tacna, so it.
I remember once when one of her friends came to him angry complaints, because I was making love to her daughter. She and I heard this hidden on the stairs, with that calm as his only replied: "Forgive me, but I I let my cock loose, so tied to their chickens. These stories that I have many, full body paint with his simple life. His ferocity in defending their cubs and a lioness feet tiny.
Luckily you, of course you are, Mama Lula.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

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LULA "THE FINEST" My cock




I have the great pleasure of belonging to a special gallada for over 8 years. I must confess that I came to her with great fear, knowing that something was made up of people old enough and very sincere, those who tell you things in the face protected under the guise of friendship. I arrived rather I was invited, following a sad event, the departure of a great friend and classmate. This fact inspired me to write a poem that certainly did not know how, came at the hands of his father, who without thinking twice called to invite me to his farm. That's how it all started a distant autumn morning in 2000, when I arrived with my father to these generous land filled with much love.
Although several years have passed since that day, I still get excited when I receive the invitation email on Fridays, usually with the words: "There huateque in the hut." And do not say more.
The gallada meets some Saturdays from time to time on the farm of Reuben "Chiqui" Chiarella, a sincere friend who looked like Don Quixote, who can not find words to express my love and gratitude is also more typing. Chiqui not need those things and do not like. He knows what harvest with his humility and love. Another reference
my cock is Juanita Flores Salleras. Former employer and owner of a boat and is now patron of friendship. His big hands are not enough to contain his candor and his heart forged between the waves Wild. His advice, but do not know, have helped me deal with life, this half-life I've ever fucked.
Don Oscar Castillo is also Rejas, a great friend whose talent for cooking led him to become the orchestra many times when preparing the soup of the day. Twins Viacava
Hidalgo, Jorge and Roberto, great people who never saw me as a kid, but a friend with whom to talk and sing tangos and boleros.
The Brothers Carlos and Miguel Flores, huge, with a heart that's great escapes from his broad breast tacneños.
Don Luis Arratia, better known as "The Chusco" who was a great fighter and now is a good singer of tangos. Don Lucho The good thing is that he did not miss it, because if you do not remember it invented the tango. Don Carlitos
Pittaluga, gallero hardened, with whom I share mi devoción por la Virgen de los Gitanos, le bella Macarena. Don Carlos es de esos amigos para los que la diferencia de edad no tiene cabida en el cariño. Así me lo demuestra.
Está también siempre presente Don Juan "Cholo" Eyzaguirre, tacneño hasta la médula y excelente persona.
Alternan de cuando en vez, otros buenos tacneños como Mario Viacava, César Chiarella, Omar Espinoza, Hernán Salinas, Tito Rodríguez, Elfri Jaralmonte, Abraham Jáuregui, Galo Flores Salleres, Oscar y Roberto “Chale” Hidalgo, Luis “La Mulita” Viacava, entre otros que la memoria me oculta.
También tenemos visitas ilustres, ilustrísimas, cada cierto tiempo, como Hernancito Albarracín, Dr. Hector Lazaro, Alvaro Gonzalez, Dr. Gustavo Liendo, Carlos Pinto, Nolberto Lanchipa with his son Titus. In memory
are always present Jesuit Father Brendan, Don Alfonso "Bear" Vargas, Luis "La Mula" Viacava. Their presence is inevitable in those precious afternoons amid the vines.
I wanted to express my love for my cock, where shadows are not supported or quarrels, if bawdy words, something we call "The Fine". At these meetings flavorful Tacna at the foot of the Arunta, the words change their meanings, "dickhead" can mean "I love you." Thank
Chiqui for the gift of your friendship and your friends. Thanks to Gino, your son and my friend, that I unknowingly left a legacy so clear, so good, as simple as his noble heart that follows, which again, there, laughing transparent every evening.

Friday, October 24, 2008

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CATALINA WITH A BURNING (FIRST WARNING) VERSUS LUIS Lanata


Mira Catalina, okay my dad loves you very much and I spend Sunday chronic telling the story of our beloved Tacna and their characters. It is good that you make every day better known and that many people ask you in public squares and malls. Okay you're a puppy graceful and have a sweet face despite your canine condition. Is well joys of friendship of little animals inside and outside Peru, including the black squirrel that comes to visit every spring in Canada at a dog belonging to a friend of my father whose name I forget. It is good that you are the smug lately Avenue Dos de Mayo. It's okay to eat those cookies just awful fishy that cost an arm and a leg. Okay you jump like a dolphin and have learned to sit and eat when you are told and do your dirty deeds alone in the courtyard. Okay to call you daughter and fill you with kisses and caresses. Okay you have light hair and be the only family that has pedigree of some sort. Okay all that Catherine, you were lucky, you earned. But what is wrong bitch son of a bitch, is that every time I come to visit the father who gave me life, I jump like a madman staining the shirt, pants and jacket. Not good I drool all over his face and hands with your tongue snake. It is not right with your playful bites almost tears me more than once noble party. It is not right to fill me with your hair leaving as bear parade. So think about Catalina and cool you if you want to follow my good father titrating their stories every Sunday "Catherine with love" and not "Catherine in the memory." I ask you friends, because next time I will put a Tabaza in you will verija awakening of the fairytale princess you are fucking bitch bitch.
Atte. Your

outraged brother.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Prospective Letter For Accounting

BARRIONUEVO: HOW YOU THINK THAT WHEN YOU SEE THE PEOPLE

Phenomenal excerpt from an interview of the great Argentine journalist Jorge Lanata politician and union leader Luis Barrionuevo, closely identified with various acts of corruption in Argentina. Barrett is a little guy who always knew to be near the power at the time of Menem and Duhalde and also has glorious phrases that have become the political history of Argentina as "working in this country do not win silver" and "to Argentina develops must stop stealing two years at least. "
I like the sarcastic tone and contemptuous of Lanata, this is how it should treat politicians who are proven thieves. Unfortunately, in our Peru to the journalists who give them more inquisitors mermeleros always have something good with honorable exceptions.
I put this video because I have something personal with Barrett, it was he who brought ruin to my dear Chacarita Juniors when he presided over the club that I have the honor to be a fan and also have the original shirt Regaldo of my dear friend Dr. Hector Lazarus, and is the only one in this beautiful land of sunshine. Enjoy.



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ANDAS BY DON STREET BAKED EGGS AND NOT COME WALK


There is nothing better to end a week full of concerns that make a barbecue with friends. That can attest to my great friends but not many are. Especially when it is generally Don Roe, Bone I, who, after making all share should go to the market to buy meat, buy coal, clean the patio where it will hold the meeting, expected to reach all the time , call for latecomers, clean the grill where it will cook the roast, put the coal in a pile for effect prefect little volcano, light the charcoal, which lights up compactly monitor, put the grill and finish up clean and coat, put the meat, monitor the cooking, finish making the salad, serve choripanes, turn the meat to prevent drying, control the amount of salt, serve the meat, go watch the rest while everyone eats meat , pick up the dishes, clean a little table, serving wine, send them to buy more wine, talking all afternoon or evening of pelotudeces, fire the drunk, waking up early to clean the yard where it was the barbecue, washing dishes the day before, woke up call to see how drunks and try to rest the undertow of all that lived, and then begin another week full of worries. There is nothing better than a barbecue, but in a restaurant. At least there, pay more, but we are not as long as Don Roe.

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THE PROBLEM WITH OPEN EARS GRAY


Today everyone is an expert in politics and local and international economy. Funny how the salesman, the broker, who sells mobile phone calls, the processor, the combi driver and newspaper seller to resolve international problems more tangled, without the need for scholars in any field. All opinions and postulate methods capable of solving the U.S. economic downturn, the Arab-Israeli conflict or internal strife in Bolivia. Democracy and freedom of expression allows one to speak his mind. But there a political system that protects the ears of the citizens to the atrocities that day after day to listen to. There will be a law to safeguard the mental integrity of those who will not get mad at the appalling views of these scholars corner. There is not. And how could exist if the great political leaders who run the country, the vast majority have no analytical skills that a 5 años.Dios save us, but while you learn, care to walk with open ears, the barbarities originate from either side as bird droppings.

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DAMNED



Not that I look like my old each day, but my old man is looking at me. A few months ago the emerging gray hairs appearing on my scalp was torn by a clamp blessed that my good woman, diligent she deftly maneuvered professional.
However, today, and my good woman dares to these heinous earrings white hair for fear of being bald is more Romulus "mouse" Joy. No longer are these albino few visitors, now in the hundreds and are played back without knowing the moral and spiritual damage I caused. And one thing is that Richard Gere and George Clooney look with gray hair and plump, and another thing is that this server has them. To me the gray do not make me no grace and less at age 28. I have two options, leave me and go out looking at life if choice, getting used to the hereditary curse, which would be a white-haired young man resigned, or paint the hair with which, to my friends, I would become a vain or aunt Ladybug in Time. Well see we decide. Mine inheritance is so cruel, that is to become a young Santa Claus, as neither the beard I respect these bitches. On a brave face, or good cane.

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TORTURE OF OUR DAILY BUS



Travel
public bus every day is torture only comparable to the impalement Caupolican.
Who has not ever had to board a crowded bus traveling pants tighter than the star. Who has not been dotted by dozens of passengers involuntarily, as one, have no choice but to stick bodies, bound by the order of a collector with brutal face requisitions that encourage fishmeal factory kept shouting "the fondo hay sitio "or" paste onto eg 'man', all in the rhythm of cumbia and suepuesto. Who has not traveled drowned between a pachyderm tits lady in years and generous meat. Who has not felt in a gas chamber, when just above the nose will spend an armpit Bravissimo, of those who throw on the floor the most sophisticated benefits of deodorants that advertising sells us. Who has not felt a searing pain, when someone steps on the little finger of his right foot, and one as an asshole exclaims "do not precoupes, is just" in time of resale by misplaced.
But everything has its revenge and its rewards, or perhaps tell me if it has not happened just in front of you when you for one of those spoiled girls face, and not those chubby-cheeked face.
This is the punishment that live day to day we have no other means of transport at hand. So you have to save up enough money to buy a little car, a small motorcycle, a bicicletita or any other huevadita help us Buses leave for good. Peru is all a packed bus and we were his passengers. What bad luck.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

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What you read from now on. LATE DELIVERY


IMPORTANT RECOMMENDATION: read each installment in the order listed, and never go to the next if not treated well before.


BLOG Index

1 - Today begins a new way of seeing things. Preface and Introduction.

2 - First Hypothesis: OLD NEW TERMS DEFINICIONESPARA

3 - Scenario II: THE FAT IS NOT A DISEASE

4 - Third Hypothesis: the physiological process DESCRIPTION OF FAT

5 - NOTES TO THE THREE SCENARIOS and Fourth Hypothesis: the physiological process DESCRIPTION OF SLIMMING

6 - Fifth Hypothesis: We must not confuse WEIGHT LOSS WITH weakens

7 - Sixth Hypothesis: eclipsing CONFLICT

8 - Seventh Hypothesis: ORDER BY TERROR

9 - Eighth Hypothesis: THE FAT NOT PRODUCE ANY DISEASES THAT YOU BLAME

10 - Ninth Hypothesis: THE FAT IN CHILDREN

11 - Tenth Hypothesis: THE FAT IN ADOLESCENCE

12 - Eleventh Hypothesis: THE "PATIENT PROBLEM"

13 - Twelfth Hypothesis: the harmful anorectic

14 - Thirteenth Hypothesis: THE FORCE WILL

15 - Fourteenth Hypothesis: the feminine silhouette

16 - Fifteenth Hypothesis: MY PROPOSAL

17 - Sixteenth Hypothesis: PHYSICAL ACTIVITY IN THE PROCESS OF SLIMMING

18 - Miscellaneous: A) THEORY ON WHY WE FEEL THE NEED TO EAT SWEET THINGS WRONG WHEN WE VA

19 - Miscellaneous: B) HYPOTHESIS ON THE FOOD OF WINTER AND SUMMER

20 - Miscellaneous: C) HYPOTHESIS ON THE "ANOREXIA NERVOSA"

21 - Miscellaneous: D) Hypothesis POINTS REFERRED TO VIEW "Bulimia"

22 - Miscellaneous: E) the perennial problem of BREAKFAST

23 - Miscellaneous: F) OPINION ON FOOD AND DRINK "DIET" "LIGHT", "low calorie" or "DIET"

24 - Miscellaneous: G) ASSUMPTIONS OF THE DIET OF PREGNANT WOMEN

25 - Dedications and Epilogue

26 - HOW TO CHOOSE A GOOD WEIGHT LOSS METHOD

27 - LATE DELIVERY "thinners"



ANNEXES TO OTHER TOPICS BLOG:

"Some of the old medical myths "


1 - MYTHS IN MEDICINE: THE DRY HEAT IS GOOD FOR RHEUMATISM, MOIST HEAT IS BAD"

2 - MEDICAL MYTHS " HOW TO TAKE THE TIME-inflammatory, analgesic and fever? "

3 - MYTHS IN MEDICINE: THE ATTACK OF LIVER"

4 - MYTHS IN MEDICINE: TIME TO TAKE THAT ANTIGASTRÍTICOS OR ANTIULCER "

5 - MYTHS IN MEDICINE:" Da HYPERTENSION SYMPTOMS? WHAT? "(Part One)

6 - MYTHS IN MEDICINE:" Da HYPERTENSION SYMPTOMS? WHAT? "(Part II)

7 - Myths in Medicine:" Can you eat green leafy vegetables and seed-containing foods very small when you have diverticula in the large intestine? "