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Comfort of a pseudoFénix

Time is a great conspirator and excellent opponent ... It is he who wears daily relationships, who sets conditions to work, who patiently eats bodies, giving the appearance of rickety furniture, who ultimately provided us from our goals and expectations (such as writing regularly on this blog ...)

(.. . ever got time directly with me and who I love most ; was personal, and as such fought, seized him by the lapels and I spit in the face of my determination. I think I did scare him a little, but still there , lurking, waiting to tear down what so hard sometimes costs us ...) And we

daily, naively, we are trying to achieve, to reduce the effect of its relentless work, without realizing that, now I write this and you read it, nothing matters ...

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That something that is beyond their noses

The other night, by mistake, I ran into a fun program apparently, as several guys from the office about him, called X Factor ... casting conducted by three "stars" of music in this country to get some natural talent of anonymity.

started well but after five seconds I realized that the program carries the stigma of rating: the scouts running parodies of the participants, affect a false rigor, and are striving to make comments that do remain in ridiculous for anyone to be put in front. Again, pre schemes to catch the mass .

I drew particular attention to two cases: one, a young metalhead apparently makes a guttural voice impost hardcore type, immediately, the jury was once tropical singer threatens to choke the queen protruding tecnocarrilera at While airing his best clown face. In another case, a man with a voice similar to Bunbury eighties singing a melody type, very similar to Heroes del Silencio , the same folk bolerista very smugly said that he is to go crazy dealing with. The musical sense and openness of this man is overwhelming ...

I wonder what talent detection criterion may be representative of a fictitious musical genre and decadent, a music producer whose productions never stick or unheard, and Obtuse interpreter, after having their 15 minutes and relatively short-lived fame, wanders by gender in search of lost talent? Some say "For the criteria that made them famous in their time" ... read well: at the time, but for their age, these three characters should be considered fossil remains of some unfortunate musical event equivalent to those ridiculous that we had in our life, which we do not want to remember or by mistake. If they know something about music, they should apply it to their infamous careers, so they get a final less unworthy than walking massacring anonymous people, who have the courage to stand before millions of strangers and try to refine the voice in the midst of terror should invade.

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Waiting

The guy walked slowly to the bottom I saw the plump face of El Calvo, beveled by the shadows, the display on your lenses. He recalled the words of Amarillo; you why you are so shit? Yellow Cursed, and will adjust the accounts ...

- What such?

The Calvo looked a second time again for the hundredth
trying to build a 2 × 2 in Word, and frowned.

- What would it be? - The voice seemed to emerge from the cheeks rather than the throat.

I think I can help out documents in a short time ...

"Oh yeah?? How?

"I have a machine ready, I just hope the files ...

The Calvo brought his face to the screen, wrinkled her nose and failed once again: finally 2 × 2 was surpassed a notion that was put together their knowledge ... of all the frustration and stared at the face of the envoy.

"I need light ... I'm tired of accumulating darkness, your solution is useless. Now I will not be moving from here, not even all of you together at the foot of my desk ... beat it and tell your boss that you wait, if you want. I'm sick of their harassment.

The guy looked at the face of the bald, endlessly stupid. That face does not reach the light or just a few steps from it. Sure, not the last time I would ... if at least give him the order ... He turned and walked through the office, trying to gauge the cube. Outside, the Yellow and Black expected ... no questions, no explanations. The guy reached out and baste: today either.

The sign above the door, watched them shuffle out there, each looking in vain for anything to add to reality. The sign called himself obscenely Paymaster.

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From beer and other demons

Recently, one of my most important interests (if not the most important) is threatened by a foreign monopoly shadow ... I'm obviously talking about Her Majesty the beer.

As if that were not enough having to endure market fluctuations (price changes as read the establishment) and the decline in value added (read the sacrilege to offer one a warm beer !!!), now adds uncertainty to see the nose of a multinational stuck in a nation's intangible heritage. I immediately think of all that this would entail: a substantial increase in prices, having to mutate the classic joke of the eagle beak of an animal from the African steppe, and the most worrying of all, changing the taste of the only cool like us to those guys!

Thinking a bit on the modernization brings the multinational, one could envisage a drastic reduction of the workforce which Beer, increasingly fewer people are needed to produce, with a consequent increase in unemployment in the country ... What fucking mess!

One of the paranoia that has haunted me from an early age is the fact sense the presence of a sinister hand behind everything that happens in the world. Regarding the beer I thought the same way, with the difference that I personally have always felt appreciation and gratitude to the hand that provides me with alcohol, and much respect, because you should never mistreat hand given to drink ... Then all these, how does it affects the change of hands behind the spring alcoholic sparkling and cold? Will we have to take with African music in the background? Or is it that now require fewer people to take a crate of beer?

I have brought my bills, and to take me a cold need at least five people: three to take them with me, a life fuck me across the cell and one that I hold in the house while you vomit ... and did you get your bills?