-Buenos
Monday, April 27, 2009
Meralgia Paresthetica Yoga Treatment
of possible prizes and other demons. Faith Pilgrim
-Buenos
Álvaro days. -Buenos
...
-I, very well. Do you do this?
... "No need sheaf
the scythe or reaper scythe.
...
"Do not think, Don Alvaro. There have been days of few letters. Simply, I have to publish everything I write.
... "Yes, there were a couple of texts. He
...
have led after heist film, two young camajanes blue caps (one with red hair and freckles on his cheeks profusely) and jackets prêt-à-porter (this is if you see them).
...
- How, Don Alvaro? Running, breathing hard, as headgear sickness.
...
"No, nothing happened. They climbed the slope of Perseverance, a suburb of Bogota that is confused with the whitish cloudy skies and in nice shack, they locked the tame pigeons to deliver the disappointing prize: books have not read or read.
...
"But changing the subject, Don Alvaro, note that I have been fortunate to have someone write something dedicated to me.
...
"Yes, of course. Who else could it be?
... "Oh, I do not know, Don Alvaro. Must be because he met Silvia few days ago, he told me.
... "If you want to read you will come visit the Internet space.
... Don Alvaro
"No, not print it, think about the environment.
... "Well, as I see it is not going to read will tell what it is: a code-friendly text that finds its echoes deep in my series" The Letters of Ripol "published some time ago. Entitled 'impossible love and other demons "
...
" That I do not know what I can answer Don Alvaro. The truth is that I have never given or received a prize in the blogosphere, but this time I break my reservation on the issue and I think I'll give a prize to the blog of Javi at the earliest opportunity.
...
- Do you think, Don Alvaro? So tonight I call him and tell him to do me a contraption, which to me gives me the sense not that bad.
... "Well. Then I leave the address in this piece of paper. He reads it and tells me, okay?
Word Master Award.
blog Awarded http://papelesburdos.blogspot.com/ the quality and warmth of his writing and the loyalty of his feelings.
The prizes in this blog are the result of my liberality and are given without conditions. No need to thank them or post them elsewhere.
"I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And
What Shall I assume you assume,
For Every atom Belonging Belongs to me as good to you."
Walt Whitman.
Walt Whitman.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Male Genital Medical Examination
Oh, how sweet, how serene
the Nazarene walked by the empty field
less full of vegetables that thorny
Calvary
The procession moved
with deep quiet suffering,
How sad the sun set!
How people crying!
How grieved Jesus ...! And he
inhumane executioner that was
sweet Jesus with whip in hand, face fierce
what had!
what heart as villain!
scene softened a tiger!
was going to drop the lamb, and this black monster
fierce
would
across the face with a whip of steel ... But a mischievous
villager, a precocious child
-hearted and healthy
and soul as big and as pure as heaven
Castilian, generous little boy
that looking at her, silent,
felt the tragic scene,
that left him a heart full of deep resentment
painful
sublimed suddenly broke
people,
took a round pebble, looked at him the executioner's
face with eyes very deep hatred,
he stood before the sculpture,
teeth clenched,
aseguróse feet,
wisely measured height, arm stretched
through, the bullet whizzed
terrible, sounded
indefinable hit, and the infamous executioner
fell horrible bouncing the board
stubborn.
the faithful
rowdy by the terrible event, surrounded the child
angry, asking
admired:
- Why, why did you do that? ...
And he answered, aggressive,
voice of those who come
of a righteous soul to the living:
- "Why yes, because you're stuck
without any reason!".
Today, that men go,
seeing Jesus suffer, I am interrogating
:
Are we men of today
those children yesterday?
The Pedrada (fragment). José María Gabriel y Galán. Oh
popayancito Popayán. While I hear the distant singing of the seminarians from the nearby church, traveling my mind and my heart to you.
Macarena Hand in hand, my friend from another time, I again have lozenges in your streets paved, back up to the balcony and again I hear the noise of the crowd in celebration. Friday
pain. Rattle sounds and the four cardinal points of the cathedral above the mob. There, far away, is the Dolorosa, little one, gallant. Accompanies San Juan, cheeks lush and beardless face fag. Below, sweaty Costalero worth their sins while swaying the Quidam, the Cristo de San Agustín and the priests who sing long elegies.
That day I left my doubts and hesitations and turned to be Catholic. It was more a Protestant Pilgrim! No sir! Catholic and atheist as God commands and pupil of the Jesuits to make matters worse.
Catholicism for me, more than a religion is an aesthetic sense. Already said by me García Lorca: 'offices have attended different religions. And I came out cheering the wondrous, beautiful, unparalleled English Catholicism. To say nothing of the Protestant religion. I have no head (in my head Latino) how people can be Protestants. Is suppressed all that is human and comforting and beautiful, in a word " (letter to his family, written from New York on July 14, 1929). In fact, I have found on American soil the first evangelical sense. Instead, I like the eyes, mournful eyes, Dew, Pilar, Guadalupe, Chiquinquira, de Covadonga, Lujan, Montserrat. I like the pipe organ sound, which is interpreted a gentle tune of Mozart. The Stabat Mater, the Pange Lingua, the Dies Irae, how to love my ears!
Play Handel's Messiah Passover with its thousand hosannas and see the baroque altarpieces of the Bogotá iglesinas old that it does think of God.
Gozo greatly with the songs of Teresa of Avila, Juan de la Cruz, Luis de León, I place the Renaissance Castilian accents Basques of the Exercises Spiritual by Loyola and I relish the human figure's sensual and passionate Alexander VI.
So what national pride I felt that time in the balcony on the street, in the Popayán of my memories, seeing this show, all lined up and mediocrity, pious and prayerful. Understand this
readers, damages and aware: This is the most Catholic country in the world, multiplied rosaries, bandages removed by the bushel and even exported.
Ah, Colombia, Columbian, columbite. Crazy, fucking, killing, Tartuffe, prayer leader. For that actually work. There you go, as Dolorosa: tame, loose tumbling left and right, straining for a bit, Stepping out, down the hill toward the abyss. As the San Juan youth of my reminiscences go, queer, dressed in green mountain of your three mountain ranges. Down the hill, sleeping in the dream of your religion soporific, behind your old colonial remnants, in the hands of a political class that constantly sucks the breast lactiferous huge profits it provides the most shameless product sinecures.
You're hopeless, stupid. Therefore, in this Holy Week, I condemn from the cross of existence in which I'm stuck. Father not forgive her she knows what she does, but is stubborn, the very stubborn. I tell you today will be with me in hell. It is finished. Here is my fucking mother.
Ite missa est. Amen.
Photo 1 of Diego Hoyos www.flickr.com : a child lights the candles of the passage of the angel of the Resurrection in Popayan, Colombia. In photo 2, the same site, a religious group welcomes the passage of the Lord of the donkey on Palm Sunday.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Water Systems For Cabins
Memories of Antioquia and thank you very much.
"What was then Pilgrim?, Xavi said in the crisp accent that remained intact Antioquia despite his two-month stay in Mexico.
had struck the phone and minutes before, I was lost in the cables of the computer, watching to see what was what, disconnecting, I was left without Internet access. Sure, three days earlier, had already called the company to ask for reconnection, but as this is Colombia, here everything is delayed because many people.
Finally, Monday morning came the long awaited service. "You andás
as lost. Are you in love or what?, Xavi continued.
- How so, I asked intrigued.
- Can not you see I have sent a text without editing, Birdbrain? That file was reached that eh, Ave Maria! Know
European readers and non-Colombian Ave Maria is the most famous and paisa interjection used to denote surprise, but also anger, admiration, horror, confusion, or to instill courage. Also know that country is not only the shorter form of the word peasant, but the adjective of the inhabitants of the departments of Antioquia, Caldas, Risaralda and Quindio.
What why? Because that is said in Colombia, which certainly is a country of idiots. The
countries live in the mountains. Lost lived for centuries, eating beans with sausages, singing ballads, using plywood and giving birth a burjaca priests and politicians. As were so
Basque country that respects his family name or Zulu, or Atehortúa or Aristizábal, or Aranzazu, or Upegui, and Giraldo, or London, or Echeverri, or Uribe (crossed because this race was born perverse ancondroplásico who serves as president here in the Land of Palms and must be, right now, venus yanta to eat, partying into the country, seven blocks from where I write this.) Know also
the stranger that paisa Vose, like Argentina or Uruguay. That I remember, in Antioquia only told of it to God and his mother (God's) and boy are the carriers rezandero these! Because every town of Antioch has a good church ... and good putiadero with cheap whores, beautiful and colorful. Go
Sonson, for example, which is where I do not remember but in any case very close to where Christ lost his poncho (so do not think vd. Going to go, unless Thomas, with s for spelling scruple , Don Blog Pérez, I read and lives in Medellín. clarify: not in Extremadura, but on the edge of a hundred mountains north of that people), there-in Sonson, where the ladies think Seville in the fog and cold and they throw you a powder that you have given evidence that before you marry, you can vd. verify what I said in the previous paragraph.
Well, all these countries, linguistically speaking, as I said are voseantes seseantes and yeístas plus. Oh, and when you speak quietly listened only to pronounce a s singing and cooing, apicoalveolar, such as that of northern Spain and as no say in any other part of the vast America, except here in the land of Thomas Carrasquilla, Porfirio Barba Jacob, Epifanio Mejía and, of course, my dear Hector Abad Faciolince and Fernando Vallejo. And if you do not know, I recommend that you read.
In Medellin a day, just to enjoy this phonetic murmur which I speak, as she took a ride on the metro, got off at Park Station Berrio, which is opposite the church of Candelaria, and although vd. not believe it, I line up for confession. I knelt.
... Acúsome father I have sinned. And what can I invent a few things to Monsignor sluts old man who was listening to lecture me at length and, as he spoke softly, whisper me your eses countries, apicoalveolares me so much love.
This in my posting by Rebecca whispered from a librarian who was in elementary school where I studied. It was a monumental fat that smelled of cigarette and as he was born in Antioch, in Carolina del Principe is a small town that is near another village called Angostura, which in turn is the one called Santa Rosa de Osos, which is between mountains (as all of Colombia), this consonant happy whispered as he spoke in his ear and his arms locked me fat, while the index would point the site was the task he had left Don Miguel, Professor of English Language, the All we ever sent to consult these summaries of grammar an author whose name I forget, as well as I face is forgetting the poor Rebbe, he died last year before I could go to his funeral because, as I am Pilgrim, was away.
And all these, why I stood talking about the country, its priests, whores and their Rebbe? Ah, it must be by Xavi is an eminent man of this lineage and to redeem myself why and then tell that to summarize, I will say briefly: I was a victim of computer these days in the most vile.
First, I discovered that Raskolnikov, my cat, pulled a cable out of nowhere and left me without the Internet, then confusing the ass with the seasons, I clicked on "Do not save" when I should have done on 'yes' and I lost all my third material Canberra Chronicle. The deceased was entitled "A Elagabulus to Carmenza" and complained of the long conversation held on a Saturday night in the town of San Roque (Antioquia, shit, Colombia), an impotent, in love with an impossible love and a nymphomaniac with about to commit suicide, convinced of the absurdity of living existence. The good Lord allowed him to miss this gem, being freed from a safe excommunication for disrespect to the Almighty and the national flag. Released from here's the challenge for this brief description, any person in the blogosphere of their own brains rewrite what the damn Word obliterated.
By the way, I apologize to all the blogs, friends, best-read and comment regularly for not having done these days. All I have written anything lately, many, thank you very much.
And to see that not forget the memory mention at random: Carmen from Spain (and not Merimee), Carmen (from Spain too. This is not like that so Andalusian), Luly, Aida, Africa, Dreamer, Quime and Marylou (as the ladies go first), Germanic, John, the Infallible, Gus and Kowalsky (because Argentina and Argentines like to go first), Alijodos, Joselop, Alatriste, Pedro, Diego and Choping (because they live in Spain and occasionally cross the Atlantic to visit me no more), Ray Bueno, Eduardo Galván and Colombian Gabriel Umaña Suárez, Tomaz (this time with z, overcome the scruples), Yara, DAN-T, Eros Wounded Gurzaf, Jkrincon and Xavi papelesburdos.blogspot.com blog, my editor and who would control everything I write before they publish for review and correction.
I am certain that I forget some, perhaps because I have seen less. In others, I know that I read without commenting. In all, I am very grateful to make this area important.
And before the end of pouting excited, I leave you with my most cordial greetings and I promise I'll be going through their, your (to honor my English friends) spaces.
"All I ask of the future, whatever, I just read" Sartre.
Pictured (from www.antioquiadigital.com ): A view from the main square of Santa Fe de Antioquia, a town between two mountain ranges, west of Medellin. 
"What was then Pilgrim?, Xavi said in the crisp accent that remained intact Antioquia despite his two-month stay in Mexico.
had struck the phone and minutes before, I was lost in the cables of the computer, watching to see what was what, disconnecting, I was left without Internet access. Sure, three days earlier, had already called the company to ask for reconnection, but as this is Colombia, here everything is delayed because many people. Finally, Monday morning came the long awaited service. "You andás
as lost. Are you in love or what?, Xavi continued.
- How so, I asked intrigued.
- Can not you see I have sent a text without editing, Birdbrain? That file was reached that eh, Ave Maria! Know
European readers and non-Colombian Ave Maria is the most famous and paisa interjection used to denote surprise, but also anger, admiration, horror, confusion, or to instill courage. Also know that country is not only the shorter form of the word peasant, but the adjective of the inhabitants of the departments of Antioquia, Caldas, Risaralda and Quindio.
What why? Because that is said in Colombia, which certainly is a country of idiots. The
countries live in the mountains. Lost lived for centuries, eating beans with sausages, singing ballads, using plywood and giving birth a burjaca priests and politicians. As were so
Basque country that respects his family name or Zulu, or Atehortúa or Aristizábal, or Aranzazu, or Upegui, and Giraldo, or London, or Echeverri, or
the stranger that paisa Vose, like Argentina or Uruguay. That I remember, in Antioquia only told of it to God and his mother (God's) and boy are the carriers rezandero these! Because every town of Antioch has a good church ... and good putiadero with cheap whores, beautiful and colorful. Go
Sonson, for example, which is where I do not remember but in any case very close to where Christ lost his poncho (so do not think vd. Going to go, unless Thomas, with s for spelling scruple , Don Blog Pérez, I read and lives in Medellín. clarify: not in Extremadura, but on the edge of a hundred mountains north of that people), there-in Sonson, where the ladies think Seville in the fog and cold and they throw you a powder that you have given evidence that before you marry, you can vd. verify what I said in the previous paragraph.
Well, all these countries, linguistically speaking, as I said are voseantes seseantes and yeístas plus. Oh, and when you speak quietly listened only to pronounce a s singing and cooing, apicoalveolar, such as that of northern Spain and as no say in any other part of the vast America, except here in the land of Thomas Carrasquilla, Porfirio Barba Jacob, Epifanio Mejía and, of course, my dear Hector Abad Faciolince and Fernando Vallejo. And if you do not know, I recommend that you read.
In Medellin a day, just to enjoy this phonetic murmur which I speak, as she took a ride on the metro, got off at Park Station Berrio, which is opposite the church of Candelaria, and although vd. not believe it, I line up for confession. I knelt.
... Acúsome father I have sinned. And what can I invent a few things to Monsignor sluts old man who was listening to lecture me at length and, as he spoke softly, whisper me your eses countries, apicoalveolares me so much love.
This in my posting by Rebecca whispered from a librarian who was in elementary school where I studied. It was a monumental fat that smelled of cigarette and as he was born in Antioch, in Carolina del Principe is a small town that is near another village called Angostura, which in turn is the one called Santa Rosa de Osos, which is between mountains (as all of Colombia), this consonant happy whispered as he spoke in his ear and his arms locked me fat, while the index would point the site was the task he had left Don Miguel, Professor of English Language, the All we ever sent to consult these summaries of grammar an author whose name I forget, as well as I face is forgetting the poor Rebbe, he died last year before I could go to his funeral because, as I am Pilgrim, was away.
And all these, why I stood talking about the country, its priests, whores and their Rebbe? Ah, it must be by Xavi is an eminent man of this lineage and to redeem myself why and then tell that to summarize, I will say briefly: I was a victim of computer these days in the most vile.
First, I discovered that Raskolnikov, my cat, pulled a cable out of nowhere and left me without the Internet, then confusing the ass with the seasons, I clicked on "Do not save" when I should have done on 'yes' and I lost all my third material Canberra Chronicle. The deceased was entitled "A Elagabulus to Carmenza" and complained of the long conversation held on a Saturday night in the town of San Roque (Antioquia, shit, Colombia), an impotent, in love with an impossible love and a nymphomaniac with about to commit suicide, convinced of the absurdity of living existence. The good Lord allowed him to miss this gem, being freed from a safe excommunication for disrespect to the Almighty and the national flag. Released from here's the challenge for this brief description, any person in the blogosphere of their own brains rewrite what the damn Word obliterated.
By the way, I apologize to all the blogs, friends, best-read and comment regularly for not having done these days. All I have written anything lately, many, thank you very much.
And to see that not forget the memory mention at random: Carmen from Spain (and not Merimee), Carmen (from Spain too. This is not like that so Andalusian), Luly, Aida, Africa, Dreamer, Quime and Marylou (as the ladies go first), Germanic, John, the Infallible, Gus and Kowalsky (because Argentina and Argentines like to go first), Alijodos, Joselop, Alatriste, Pedro, Diego and Choping (because they live in Spain and occasionally cross the Atlantic to visit me no more), Ray Bueno, Eduardo Galván and Colombian Gabriel Umaña Suárez, Tomaz (this time with z, overcome the scruples), Yara, DAN-T, Eros Wounded Gurzaf, Jkrincon and Xavi papelesburdos.blogspot.com blog, my editor and who would control everything I write before they publish for review and correction.
I am certain that I forget some, perhaps because I have seen less. In others, I know that I read without commenting. In all, I am very grateful to make this area important.
And before the end of pouting excited, I leave you with my most cordial greetings and I promise I'll be going through their, your (to honor my English friends) spaces.
"All I ask of the future, whatever, I just read" Sartre.
Pictured (from www.antioquiadigital.com ): A view from the main square of Santa Fe de Antioquia, a town between two mountain ranges, west of Medellin.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Cheat Pokemon Fire Red On Gpsphone
of what this space has to be. Dear
Taken from the book Ghosts Among Colombian writer Fernando Vallejo. Text quoted in the documentary "The supreme distress."
Taken from the book Ghosts Among Colombian writer Fernando Vallejo. Text quoted in the documentary "The supreme distress."
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