This friend of mine was blown away. That was what was said in those years, the mid-fifties, of who smoked marijuana. So that was unusual between individuals. The only ones who consumed the maleficent weed -such an expression was always used by the newspapers- they were the soldiers of the Glorious National Army, now a business army. I heard of a young captain berating a private who had been in the ranks for some time and who had the vice. I’d tell him, “If you keep smoking that stuff, you’re never going to get to the top.” “Uh, boss! -replied the veteran-. When I smoke it I feel like a general, and a division!”.
The friend I mean he used to invite us to his house. Single and wealthy by inheritance from his parents, he liked to get together to have a couple of drinks and listen to CDs. Gregorian singing, for he was devoted to that lofty musical form. He would disappear suddenly and return shortly smelling of “the evil weed” Once he returned with a potato in his hand, and with it he devoutly traced over each one of us the sign of the cross He explained: “I am giving you the papal blessing.”
The dad, It is known that it originates from Peru. I learned to love that country since I read the “Peruvian Traditions”, of Don Ricardo Palma, in an anthology that the noble and meritorious Editorial Porrúa made of the writer’s work in its collection “Know how many.”. This name, by the way, was given by Don Alfonso Reyes, who took for that the initial words of the real prematics that were heard in the New Spain in colonial times.
I would like to send a blessing, even if it is not papal, to that sister nation that is now going through days of tribulation. I learned with sadness that Machu Picchu has been closed to visitors because of the disturbances that day after day are recorded in Peru. That is like closing Chichén Itzá, the Basilica of San Pedro, the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona or the Chapel of Santo Cristo in Saltillo, all sacred sites and which should always be open to the devout admiration of locals and strangers. I have felt the magic and mystery of that prodigy, Machu Picchu, and I do not forget its greatness.
It looks like the work of gods. I wish with all my heart and soul that peace between brothers returns soon to Peru. I will light a candle to Santa Rosa de Lima, another to San Martín de Porres and a third to San Juan Macías. Perhaps between the three of them they will make the miracle happen. Little Rosilita heard her father say to a friend on the phone: “My secretary is a doll.” She asked him: “And does she close her eyes when you put her to bed, like mine?” The hunter approached the edge of a ravine in order to relieve a minor need. Immediately three liquid volleys left him bathed from head to toe. He told his guide: “I forgot to tell you that this is the Barranca del Eco”. Wedding night.
The marriage was consummated. The bride got out of bed to fix her messy hairstyle. She told her hubby, “One second, please.” He replied: “Just give me a little time to recover from the first one.” “You smeared her mother” -a drunken uncivil snapped at an elegant customer who drank her glass without messing with anyone. The only reason for the insult was how well dressed the man was. Social rancor, then; pure envy that arouses the anger of drunkards. “Look, friend,” the gentleman answered the briago calmly, without taking offense. “I have two mothers. One is sacred. It is in a niche, where I venerate it. The other is to walk in the mouth of fools like you.” “Well,” the fearful one muttered, “I smeared her mother. The one in the niche.” END.
LOOKOUT
By Armando SOURCES AGUIRRE.
The man spends his days and nights working on a reproduction of the Eiffel Tower. It will measure 5 meters in height and is made with toothpicks.
Man does nothing else. His wife hired herself as a housekeeper in a hotel in order to have what she needed to feed her three children. And to her husband, the one from the Eiffel Tower. Oh, and to buy him the toothpicks and glue he needs for his great company.
The man has been working on it for 10 years now, and he barely goes on the first floor of the tower. He says that his slow work is due to the poor quality of the chopsticks, which he blames on his wife. When he finishes his work, he claims, it will attract more visitors than the original. Then everyone who judges him crazy will consider him a visionary genius.
The man has no friends. He had one, a teacher, another doctor and another engineer. He stopped seeing them. He said:
They are not serious people.
See you tomorrow!…
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MANGANITAS
By AFA.
“. Follow Claudia Sheinbaum her acts of proselytism.”.
He looks untied.
He doesn’t even go to work anymore.
that cap is
already quite uncovered.
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