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.