That was an unequal marriage, typical of the time -beginning of the last century- and of the place where it was celebrated, a small village called Petatillo. The groom is an octogenarian, the bride is 20 years old, her father married her to the mature man because he was rich in land and livestock, and he had lost the family fortune reading the book of 40 sheets, that is, playing cards.
The clumsy parent thought that his daughter’s husband would soon go to the other world, both because of his age and because of the enormous efforts he would have to make in the conjugal bed to fulfill his duties as a husband. “Marriage at a mature age, antlers or burial”, says an old Castilian proverb warning men. And another to the contrary, addressed to the woman: “Don’t marry an old man for the money. The money is spent and the old man remains.” What I am going to do is narrate what happened on the wedding night of the dissimilar couple. The bride was innocent. She came into the marriage without any knowledge of the realities of her life, as her mother did not care to tell her about them.
The betrothed, I already said it, was around 80 calendars. As soon as they were alone in her bridal chamber, he asked her in a tremulous voice: “Do you know, my dear, what a man and a woman do when they get married?” “No, Mr. Foro,” replied the candid girl (the man’s name was Telésforo). “I don’t know.” “Well, we’re late,” the proven husband was dismayed. “You don’t know, and I already forgot.”
It’s about saving the INEOf course, but it is above all about saving Mexico. If López manages to impose his Plan B, this country will remain in his hands as private property. His attack on the electoral referee constitutes the greatest attack on democracy since the days of Bartlett, who in the opinion of many is already condemned to the dustbin of modern Mexican history. If AMLO’s attempt prospers, we will return to the time of the State elections, and the citizens will lose what, at the cost of so many efforts and such great sacrifices, has been achieved to consolidate the exercise of democracy in Mexico. In the event that López carries out his Plan B, let’s get ready to file all legal resources to annul his disastrous electoral reform. Let’s defend the INE. Let’s save Mexico.
Pepito asked his mom to buy him a watermelon, the biggest one he could find in the supermarket. “What do you want it for?” she asked, surprised, the lady. Pepito explained: “It’s just that yesterday I brought the teacher an apple, and she gave me a kiss. Can you imagine what she’ll give me if I bring her a watermelon?” Don Wormilio came home every day at 6 in the late after his 8-hour work day as a bookkeeper at the “La Espumosa” soap dish. That day he arrived at 7, because his colleagues invited him to have a beer in the neighborhood canteen on the occasion of one of their birthdays. Doña Gorgona, his wife, was waiting for him with very bad irons.
When she entered, she told him right off the bat, akimbo, her tone harsh, her brows furrowed and other parts: “How many times have I told you not to be late, you fool?” She replied, humble, Don Wormilio: “Forgive me, old lady. I didn’t know I had to keep count.” Nonito was a boy without science of life and -worse still- without art. Life has more art than science. He asked a friend with more experience than his own: “I want Pelerina, but I see her as so pure, so virtuous and chaste that I don’t dare ask her to go to bed with me. Do you think that if I ask her she will accept?” “. “Of course,” the other assured him, “why would I make an exception with you?” END.
LOOKOUT
By Armando FUENTES AGUIRRE
I always look with respect at the stones on the road.
They are much older than me.
Each one keeps memories of earthquakes that happened a billion years ago, of primeval volcanoes, of cosmic explosions. In them the history of the Earth is written. They come from galaxies so far away that they cannot be measured with distances, only with the imagination.
I take this little pebble in my hands and it is as if I took Creation in them. Maybe it was once part of a star. Perhaps it burned in the fire of another sun that is not ours.
The stones know more about God than we do, but he made them mute so they wouldn’t tell his secret. Still, quiet, we must honor them for their silent wisdom. They came here from unknown worlds. Each one is a synthesis of the universe. When we step on them we are stepping on a mystery.
We have reverence for the stone.
she stays We are dust that goes away.
See you tomorrow!…
MANGANITAS
by AFA
“. Mexican restaurants among the best in the world.”.
Although I may teach the copper
I certify one thing:
in them you eat rich,
but then you come out poor.
#Politics #worse