“Let me get on top.” The hotel bellboy passed the bridal suite, and through the door she overheard the groom saying that to her bride. And immediately: “Now you stand up.” And then: “Now both up.” “I won’t miss this” -said the bellboy. And she peeked through the keyhole.
The two newlyweds were sitting on top of the suitcase that they couldn’t close. If the time I dedicate each day to deleting the messages I receive with propaganda from Claudia Sheinbaum had been used from the beginning to write novels, I would have produced at least three of the same dimension as Tolstoy’s “War and Peace”, “Les Miserables” by Victor Hugo or “The Magic Mountain” by Thomas Mann. Said with the greatest respect, I’m fed up with those messages, which I automatically delete without reading them.
Their frequency and quantity are such that they harass and end up causing irritation and weariness. Only AMLO’s mornings cause an equal sensation. I wonder who pays for this profuse political publicity. Is the cost borne by the interested party, is it contributed by the political party to which the lady belongs, or does it come out of public coffers? For the sake of transparency, what seems to be López Obrador’s favorite corkolata should inform his governed of the origin of the funds that he allocates to pay for such profuse -and surely very expensive- propaganda.
For some reason, the man from Tabasco gave the starting signal for the presidential race with notable anticipation. This has meant that the participants in it are neglecting their functions in order not to let their rivals take the lead (that is, in the case of the gentlemen, without the intention of alburero). I have stated it before and I repeat it now: I will never vote for a Morena candidate, not even if that party nominates the Holy Spirit himself.
In my opinion, belonging to that party, property of the autocrat who has caused and continues to cause so much damage to this country, is enough to make anyone suspicious. Tell me who you’re with, etc. I have tried a thousand ways to block the messages from the lady mentioned above, but they continue to come in with criminal regularity. They have the stubbornness of the fly, and I don’t even live in Mexico City, and therefore I am not a voter who must be convinced of the virtues of the favorite candidate, because of her unconditional support, of López.
In short, democracy, in addition to being very expensive and very annoying, is very noisy. I will resign myself to continue being bombarded by this propaganda, and I will see the work of erasing it as penance for my faults and sins. “What is easy to do has no merit,” postulated that man. His wife shared this idea, so they did everything overcoming difficulties that they themselves created. A visitor praised the car they had. The man declared: “We did it the hard way, by putting together parts from other cars.” Then the friend praised the house in which they lived: “We also built it the hard way,” declared the man, “with materials from houses in ruins.”
In that the son of the marriage appeared. “Beautiful child,” commented the visitor. Said the man. “We also did it the hard way: in a hammock.” The other objected: “Raising a child in a hammock is not difficult at all. Don Renán Irigoyen, a distinguished Chronicler who was from the City of Mérida, sent me a delicious book called ‘El Hamaca-Sutra’ a long time ago, profusely illustrated , in which a good number of positions are shown, in the manner of those of the Kama-Sutra, to perform the act of love in a hammock”. “Yes,” the man admitted. “Only we did it to our son in a hammock, but standing up”… END.
LOOKOUT
By Armando FUENTES AGUIRRE
Jean Cusset, an atheist except for the time he got lost in the woods, took another sip of his martini – with two olives, as always – and continued:
-I was not given the faith of the charcoal burner, which is the perfect faith, the one that does not ask questions. My faith has so many doubts that sometimes it doesn’t seem like faith. In spite of that I keep it, because if I lost it I would lose myself. Without her I would have no hope. Without her, worse still, I would not have love.
He went on to say:
-My faith is like a candle that burns in the middle of a stormy night. It is tiny, and the wind makes its flame tremble. But it has never been turned off. It has withstood all the storms: those outside, which are violent, and those inside, which are more violent. As long as that tremulous flame continues to burn, I will be safe. The day it goes out, I will go out with it.
So said Jean Cusset. And he took the last sip of his martini, with two olives, as always.
See you tomorrow!….
MANGANITAS
by AFA
“. Millions of Americans believe Trump.”.
According to the proverb of old
that i heard on some occasion
and what comes up,
everywhere there are assholes.
#Politics #worse
