No excuses. No laziness,
worth.
See it.
We all happens. Suddenly we look at patterns, recurrences us happen, symbolic, numerical, and with which, over time, seem to run into constantly. I guess that's the definition of a trend: People diverse in different places, they reinvent the obsolete, to rediscover the forgotten. And the result is that association of ideas that sometimes leads us the chance not think so. Of these strange synchronicities that I visited, one of them is the feeling that Soviet art, Russian or Chinese, is back in fashion. Once stripped of its connotations is the pure aesthetic enjoyment for those who want to dispose of it. History cynically forgiving. And without an iron curtain and the Warsaw Pact behind him, and a dunk in China to capitalism, it is possible unbiased and carefree enjoyment, and that the truth is that thanks.
The oldest know that a server place on special occasions rolls up and becomes a foreign song lyricist adapter. It was very that this happened, but at last the time has come, and I stand before you, this time with the adaptation of a classic "bar of English music" , an issue that everyone has howling Group On retrodiscotecas antrobaretos and the " Flavor of Love "Dance of and invisible under your doctor's scalpel favorite magic has become" love lasagna. " As is karaokeizada full, can sing clicking here , thanks to the music Pi: What shirts fi (n) stro, by God, do you paint. But what the hell, To sing!
Solitary and peripatetic in his tour of Auschwitz , Benedict XVI asks "why, Lord, have tolerated this?" Not long after, the Archbishop of Valencia , in his homily for the victims of the recent accident Pontifex Maximus paraphrases and cry at the same sky "Where God was at that time? " And is that being Catholic is not what it was. Now you can become pope or prelate and doubt.
The episode of Star Trek "The Way to Eden , "Gives the viewer the chance to admire in detail the decoration of the chambers of Mr Spock . Colors acid and absurd objects, such as those dusters made a clear plastic tubes that light up in sequence of colors and can big-headed aliens seen between potheads and marketing in the gift shops of our cities. My grandfather Joseph, contrary to the version that always told my grandmother had died suddenly in the street. He committed suicide.
The end of the Civil War left its name on the blacklist and terror filled her suspicions. Abandoned his wife and crossed the French border. The terrible years of the war, in which police were Republican, and that period of exile under the constant fear of being found and shot shook him enough to make him lose his sanity. Who would not.
later got a job on the recommendation of my great-grandfather in the Fabrica Nacional de Moneda y Timbre. But Joseph was not the young idealist who in the early 30's it appeared to his wife sometimes barefoot because their shoes had given someone poorer than himself and others with a gap in the head after participating in a demonstration. It was instead a disturbed and lonely man, who had betrayed the fact that neither the existence of a daughter just three months of treatment allowed to escape, unknowingly, had signed with death just a decade earlier. Fifty
years later, I saw first saw this picture and could not avoid the chill first and after acknowledging responsibility in the face of that sweet man, idealistic, kind and compassionate that I have in me.
Jose, Grandpa, I love you.
Your favorite doctor and secure server is a crooner declared. A vein of my multifaceted personality, like the firecracker, which emerges from listening to Tamara Superstar, or torrijera, which faces every time Easter comes .
Despite the abandonment apparent, the Cabinet is not closed (yet). I assure you that there will be a little more regularly in the coming weeks, although they know that due to this self-imposed ultimatum to draw a dashed line just above my eyebrows, most end up becoming less. For now let me thank you for visiting this ramshackle summary of memories and sit a moment here because I want to give me good news. And it In the East is traditionally considered the first of March as the end of winter and early spring. We buy bows, knots, hanging red and white thread and hang the first tree in bloom that day one currency as a symbol of rebirth, and in doing so make a wish.
I ordered mine.