Congratulations Sayings Engagement

Another year

Just today I decided to write, I feel that no one is waiting and that gives me some peace. I'm a little rusty, but what can be done. I feel this year was a big disappointment. I was a big disappointment to myself, unmotivated and useless.

I have twenty years, a lot of dreams and this stagnant and mediocre. I'm exactly half of the school. When I started from the beginning I said that was because I really wanted to learn, but it is more difficult than I thought. Toto, it looks like we're not in the CCH. This semester I took five courses of sciences (my worst nightmare). I failed three and most of my teachers are literally disturbed disoriented and in some cases outright sadists who do not teach anything.

Everybody tells me that third and fourth semester is the most bastard, I can. But I can not panic, and when that happens my defense mechanism is to abort the mission, put the autopilot and send everything to hell. I know that is worse, but it is almost impossible to avoid. I miss

Milks. According to him going back to school, but almost never see. Now that I have friends in the room distracted me more than ever. I have fear.

I stopped writing in part out of laziness, partly because of depression, but mostly by paranoia. I feel that I become vulnerable publicly confessed, which is ironic, because I also think it is the only way to tell the truth as it is. Maybe it means that truth is dangerous, not only in itself, but also for who says it.

Anyway, I have lots of pictures I want to share, I have things I want to make his trial, but the fact that a malicious anonymous knows me too I find disturbing.

regret the disaster that is my blog, but if I take comfort in the misfortune of others, know that this is a direct reflection of my life. Do not want to waste and everything I am, but it's hard when you're your own worst enemy. I'm seriously considering

a restructuring of this blog and most importantly, it changes by Tumblr blogger. What do you think?

restructure And what I mean letting go the reins and post what it is and how it feels, I dunno, let the momentum take the reins. There are more who have not seen me and probably a good way to more safely share my ideas.

I hope your year was better than mine, I heartily thank the time they devoted to this reading and good, see you soon.

While I'm pondering my future, my present and my past. I have to get out of here.

Rotary Razor Versus Foil

Prats dolphin released in Mexico

C Elebrás the appearance in Monterrey, Mexico, a selection of poems by the Cuban writer Dolphin Prats. Exile transient, as it is called the volume has been published by the label Mantis Editores this year and must be present these days in Holguin, Cuba City resides Prats.
Selection and preface also run by the Mexican poet Luis Aguilar, who has accurately noted:
"Pursued in a time and always marginalized, Dolphin has constructed a temporary exile: the time is the theme of writing. Then comes not only the country, but himself, because his amasiato the word has no boundaries, reasons, determinism, sex or ideology. It is true to himself, and poetry honesty will result set in splendor enough to make any chaos.
"While at the same time fresh and nourished by the best literary tradition, the work of our poet is, however, little known outside their country. The reason perhaps lies so dark in the rigidity of the academy, the fearful obedience or envy pure and simple. And despite this, the poet clings to this land with the loyalty of the defeated cancer, but does not even write from there, as interpreted by other exiles and their own malquerientes. Write from the vertical transparent poetry. Nothing more is needed. "
Dolphin I've written before in this blog. You can read here .

Homely Heriones Meens Boobs

Today

Ash Diamond And Pearl Images

Baquero's house two years of loneliness

L eo that Yeniel Bermudez player to integrate the Cuban national team, lives in Alaska. There was interviewed for the Anchorage Daily News , through which we learn what has been their avatars to settle in the United States and earn a living.
Yeniel was one of the Cuban players in March 2008, in Tampa, Florida, drawing an Olympic qualifying match ahead of Beijing, left the team and requested refugee status. What the press is commonly called here in the free world, with the horrible infinitive of "defect." In these two
years Yeniel just played football. It tells the interviewer that he was participating in a tournament with a lower-division team called Charleston Battery in South Carolina, where it has felt like an outsider. Currently has no professional contract. Even found a job, was fired from a previous job when his boss found out you can not write in English, "although it is connected to a school volunteer.
not accompanied him to say much fortune. He tried to play for Chivas USA, where campaigning striker Maykel Galindo, but a tear in the ligaments erased any chance of debuting in the MLS. Previously, had not been integrated into the organization's Los Angeles Galaxy because he still did not have papers.
Now he trains alone in a field school. There is no one with him, no one to pass the ball, only your partner and journalist. He still wears the costume of the national team that was once the captain and now to his younger brother, back in Cuba, has been marginalized. Is waiting for an offer, preferably from the United States, which continues to play mediocre football.
for the former defender Cienfuegos team, they have had two years of loneliness. But no matter how hard life of migrant, Yeniel has endless possibilities to succeed today, quite a lot more of him on the island were denied those opportunities come true one day now depends solely on him, his talent and dedication put to stay ahead way, and not irrational subordination to a government that no longer can boast of holding (thankfully) not even an ideological coherence. Much less can promote and fund a sports movement that yields the results of the past.
In this global disaster that has made the island of Cuba, the only thing that seems worthwhile is to escape by any means, bet on the questions of the future instead of living rooted in the past. That was what made Yeniel and although she has even gone so well, the first step and gave it, which is acquiring for himself an individual freedom that nothing and no one may be limited.

Photo: Bob Hallinan / Anchorage Daily News

Walkie Talkie Alpha Bravo

Lazarus
How were you when you drank?
someone asks as if wondering about the dead.
may have reason
who dies is not the same raises.

Jorge de la Garza Cantú

My cigarettes are grips with reality. That uneasiness in the stomach, the heat uncomfortable whole through me when the time becomes water is forcing my trembling hands to light the next. I always had a nervous character. My life is a panther crouching, ready for the big jump, but still.

My mind is filled with boxes of papers stuck urgent cry. I have a lot of incomplete lists, plans unattended. The time to dream and so I scattered. I'm turning again and again to things I put on hold (pending the capacity, resources, courage, decisiveness) and thus lost in the chaos that reigns inside my head. Everything is logical, yet twisted, as if my skull was the wonderland.

I have this great recipe, the ingredients, but I dare not enter the kitchen. Anything seems more important (look, a butterfly). It is a mixture of apathy and insecurity that keeps me static. Books are the only ones who get to talk, and even their voices seem distant at times.

Writing is terrifying. You undress and go out. The whole world can see every one of your flaws. Writing leads to frustration disappointing. To my bad luck, writing is like breathing.

I holding my breath too long and awkward gasps respite now, pulling all the air I can to my lungs. It's just something I have to do. My call, you might say.

And now I'm here, smoking, banging the keys on my computer recently arranged (as if it were a typewriter), naked before strangers (either I is not a stranger).

How do you explain, DVD, panic produced by the blank page, the burden readers have asked your words, the shame of not being able to accommodate a successful online? How can you understand what is trying to justify such a long absence, a sterile literary period, when your whole life is geared to the words?

None of the ways in which intended to return and say hi again seemed appropriate. The only thing is I was able to come and spew my thoughts hoping that you take as an apology and believe with more conviction than I perhaps did not lose my ability to all for what they really serve.
Crave is the only word that can explain how I feel. Can be translated as "crave, crave, need." I crave for life and a lot of stuff that I really dont need. I wish I could concentrate.

My point with all the shit I just wrote is that I am remodeling. At first everything is hunky-dory why you are all motivated and energetic, but then when you realize the work that still needs to be done, habits such as walls, you have to pull the rubble of the past to dismiss, the plans for a strong foundation and lasting trace, you need expensive materials to build the life of your dreams, construction and workmanship tired of you have, you get pretty sick at the magnitude of the company.

Big plans, yes sir, but under budget. And under budget involves double Ching, with all the sorrow in the world, I am an egg producing the worst. I was born tired. But the dream is strong (as I do not sleep), so I'm still here, like an idiot, standing in the black of my life pieces that move too slow for my taste.

feel that this blog has not left me. I grew up and simply is not my style. Make no mistake, I love each and every one of my posts, I love the tone of the site, but it's like twenty kilos off and try to wear your favorite dress.

Same and I'm malviajando. I just want you to know how guilty I feel so shut up. How out of place I feel at this time. I know I'll write in the future, for sure, but maybe it here, do not know if I can tailor the garment or if I have to find a new one that is comfortable. I will not leave (You can not have you forsaken me, thank you) and if I move I promise you'll be my first guest. While

destroyed everything to build it again, I can only fumarme another cigarette and trying to remain standing. With a little luck walk soon.

White Lumps Coming From Tonsils

Vargas Llosa or visible man

Today

Journal of Cuba, Madrid:

Nobel Vargas Llosa and Cuba, memory and visibility Michael H. Houston Miranda 08/10/2010 - 6:31 pm .

M ost years later, to a young interviewer Cuban, Mario Vargas Llosa was kind enough to ask for Havana. Was he then the interrogator. The writer wanted to know, recalled a site, bodies of La Rampa, determined by a city that no longer exists, habitable and inhabited only in his memory, a fateful findings Square, the scene of a battle is not over. Havana evocation of the now-at last Nobel Prize untwist a series of clashes that were sparked presume after the news of the award. Already run a few comments thrown rolling from those narrow circles of power tropics: the thing smells like something that goes beyond literature. For Havana, there will always be something beyond literature even when there is not even literature seriously. But Vargas Llosa should be very quiet. He was the man of letters, has embodied an office, has survived his own exhaustion and finished by winning an endurance race that, lest we forget, was the first stretch his most memorable moment just before the Revolution as criminalized. First of all we should ask how Vargas Llosa has been read from Cuba. His novels always came at the wrong time, although by that time we had learned how to read negative, on the underside of certain pages, to avoid a headline in Granma the eye of the accused. How to read the writer is bound to recover that same past is going to be stabbed every day for power? The uneasy relationship of the writers of the boom with the Cuban Revolution is based on the ancient Latin American misunderstanding of the possibility of redemption by the promised power. And yet the fabric of this relationship describes the same curve emphatic of all hypocrisies manual. With hindsight we can inquire and crudely what Vargas Llosa was excited about a process that only in October 1959 had already become something of a farce. The Cuban Revolution was and remains what Vargas Llosa has reported that it was the Soviet Union as global single point: the greatest-and logic the worst-challenge for Latin American democracies. These revolutionaries themselves were not going to forgive after his much visibility, political activism and opposite that reached to rub the presidency of Peru, let alone its economic success if it meant he would not leave a weight into the coffers of America Department dismantled . That same political visibility as uncomfortable for the Castro regime that the Academy was delayed a verdict of such justice. Arthur Lundkvist had sworn that Jorge Luis Borges would not take the prize as he was to stop it. To the derision of the Swedes, Borges died first that such Lundkvist. Vargas Llosa has survived them both and left a couple of novels that can safely considered masterpieces. Another four or five are quite memorable and sufficient to leave an imprint on English literature, to ensure posterity. And we know that sometimes do not even need a book to qualify as a classic. But the academy had been devaluing the award which would suck without even sixty years. That would be great news if Julio Cortázar and Roberto Bolaño had not died so young. Cubans who love liberty have no reason to feel indifference to the awarding of this prize to Mario Vargas Llosa. Because few intellectuals, writers and artists have shown a greater persistence in Bury the repressive nature of the regime in Havana. And because you can imagine how painful a story and in the caverns of the torturer, where they arise / occur the dark frames of real life stories of individual resistance to the power that Vargas Llosa has put several of his novels.

Image: Journal of Cuba

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Obituary

On September 8 in Houston died Mr. Andrew A. Puello, who was the organizer for a few years of the Hispanic Book Fair this city, an event about which I once wrote . Thanks to this

post, where Puello kindly left a comment, then we had a very pleasant phone conversation. There we met personally, but I like the mark left in life. And I hope the show can go on without him.

My condolences to his family and thanks again for Casa Cuba send me a note.

Photo: Taken from the website of the Hispanic Book Fair Houston .

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Smoking In My Life Angst

In My Life by Johnny Cash

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Five Years

Dear Constant Reader:

First of all I want to thank you for your loyalty and patience during my unscheduled absence. I regret not advised, but maybe when you finish reading understand my reasons. Now let me tell you a story.

This blog has recorded three years of my life. I started writing during extremely happy with my life, and then when everything collapsed, he became my memory and my therapy.

The five years that give their name to this post began when I entered the CCH. My life changed complete and thought out of despair of my stormy puberty. In almost three years I was what now seems a lifetime. That ended when he left. I died and I was reborn. He was about to turn 18 and I felt torn inside.

From that moment my life became a downward spiral. Went through hell and the way I learned many things, met many people and in retrospect I think it was worth it.

The funny, or sad, whatever you see, is that although I have tried to rebuild my life several times throughout the blog and reinvent myself, kept my self-destructive habits. My learning seemed wasted that committed the same mistakes over and over again. The problem was inside me, not at school where he was the boyfriend who had (or leave me) or my interests at that time.

had a monster inside, filling me apathy, discouragement and feeding the emptiness in my chest with frustration. You know his face, reader. I've seen in any of my entries labeled "pain" or "confusion."

But this holiday season something happened. Something hard to explain and therefore impossible to write. Suddenly, the pieces began to fit and my past, my desires and ambitions began to make sense. Envy, frustration and fear of aging woke me and when I opened eyes saw everything clearly. I stopped writing because I was in my cocoon. I became quick, but deeply. Now I have a goal. I'm the arrow, the bow and I'm aiming high.

You can still read my adventures and opinions in this blog, my nightmares Mr. Hyde and other oddities in my new Tumblr . You can spy on my social networks, ask anonymously or write, but I must tell you that things will be different, because in addition to a therapy and a means of communication, used the blog as a social experiment. What happens when one has bared his soul in public?

know now and not feel need to share my results (it is more likely that the images you). I learned that lying is sometimes necessary to tell the truth. Now I see the option as a means to protect myself. I will tell you many things, but not all. Maybe let you peer through a crack, or send you a postcard, a misguided polaroid to wonder where the hell I am, who I am now. I

cured (not seem) my compulsive need to explain everything. To justify every move, as if it were obvious, like if you could not figure it out for yourself. I'll leave room for speculation, margin for error. It is so important. I do keep the truth and is what counts. The joke is to read between the lines.

As I write, I'm more concerned with living my life than transcribe. It was quite a surprise for me to realize I do not need witnesses to all that the moment they are still beautiful and that I alone can appreciate.

twenty years will comply soon. It's been five years since my life began to catch up to speed and learn to manage it properly now.

a hug you, wherever you are. I hope we continue this relationship as platonic. You, reading me, avoiding time and space. Our minds are touched. Thank you for staying here.

by Brian Molko Five Years

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disservice

I learn that La Voz de Houston, the Hispanic supplement Houston Chronicle, published in 2008 this article on the community Houston Cuban.

That was the year I came to live in this city.

brings some interesting figures and should be updated, of course, mostly from the cast for the most recent Census.

Even more interesting is the lack of "political" in the testimony of the Cubans interviewed. Any motivation for emigration or abandoning a mission in Venezuela is reduced to economics. A salary issue. Or currency conversion.

disservice that some media pays to fight against a totalitarian regime.

Photo: Martha M. Montejo. In a bar in College Station, Texas.

How Many Tablets Do I Need To Overdose

World Notes: Deserving no stranger to World Cup soccer

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World Selection

"buy records, read biographies of musicians, collects handbills. Music flowing through his veins. And sometimes even love the music the musicians themselves. But instead of touching cry." The music lover. Eusebio Ruvalcaba.

Sometimes I feel Salieri. It's like my life was in a dream. See and be seen with painful clarity as he ascends the talent of others. Mediocrity and envy, the poison that paralyzes me. A fear that prevents me from doing things. Wasted potential, a mere idea of \u200b\u200bwhat might be good but not enough.

There are days when I can hardly exist. My brain has a way strange and I work hard to separate past, present and future. Stifling days in which so many things going through my mind that I can hardly keep up. As smoke marijuana without the tranquility and passivity that characterizes it. Days when I feel that it is all quick camera when in fact remain motionless for hours, watching the computer screen.

I feel terribly old, I can not understand why I feel this terrible need to have all my stories, preserve them, as if everything is too ephemeral, as if death or forgetfulness Cirne on me. This is my hell Kafkaesque.

difficult to live with the obsession compulsion constant anxiety and fear unjustified. I'm an insecure narcissist, a egolatra with an inferiority complex. A contradiccón, a denial of my own, an inconsistency of person. I would erect a monument and then throw eggs.

I eat only memories and dreams, allowing the flow fact about me because it is unbearable failure. Living in excess and self-censorship. I am a prisoner of my psyche. I'm caught between madness and health, standing on the line that keeps me define myself.

I want to be a writer, but I'm afraid to write. I'm afraid to face the blank page. Only when I can not allow these escapes me most culpable, this explosion of doom liberating.

My life is chaotic, both my room and my thoughts and my school work (which I did). Despite that I describe myself as a perfectionist and fanatical of the order. The inability to classify all frustrates me so much that paralyzes me. I am overwhelmed by the prospect.

I firmly believe that I have no imagination or creativity. Everything is limited to (mis) memorize things. I'm just a collage of the world. The extreme fetish, collector. Pathological hoarding. Choose

is almost impossible, I want everything, I can not let go, I can not stop thinking about that. Frees me to write here and at the same time incredibly scared me. I feel much pressure, not only with you I read but me. I am my most harsh critic.

terrifies me Feeling scattered, losing things (physical or otherwise) makes me physically ill. I feel like I disappear. I am my things and my things are me. Lose the thread of my life. I can not concentrate.

express what I think, feel or live many times, save in the collective memory of who I want, where they translate it remains for future reference. I record everything, because we forget an important date, a gesture, a thing is a nightmare for me. I have to know there is a backup of my memory, just so I'm (semi) quiet.

There is so much I want to say, so I want to communicate while I'm dry. I can not create nothing on my own and that depresses me, I completely collapses.

Then read this, do not know how I will feel. I have many books of my childhood and adolescence in which I describe exactly the same feeling. The feeling that I am two people, that go from one extreme to another, that does not recognize who I am among many voices.

I hope to write more clearly in a while. I hope you understand my fragmented ideas and understand the intent behind it. I have many things in his head, much to tell, but I can not put an order.

May my words serve at least to keep company with those who feel the same, drifting, with a fire burning in their breasts.

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World Cup in the season tend to divide opinion: either love or hate football. Few are those who remain indifferent. Personally I love him and I can not understand why my friends are so upset. Yes, I understand that their boyfriends become zombies panting in front of the TV, but really should see the good side (veeeeery good). Below I discuss

ten powerful reasons why a woman should watch football:

1 - Beer: whether we lose, we win or even play, the world is the perfect excuse to drink.
2-Friends: Few things are more fun to lie to the mother to the referee with friends from the comfort of your own armchair.
3-day off, working hours and academics become flexibles.Si have a boyfriend, you go out with your friends and many of your favorite places are deserted.
4-Emotion: once you understand, a party can be orgasmic. (Eg, Mexico-France)
5-Unit: Animal House nationalist. Unknown (cute) that will embrace you win and get generous bars.
6-Culture: Generally we learn even a few things the host country. 7-Spirit
Sports: The enthusiasm is such that even we dared to play. Although we do not know, is fun and burns calories.
8-Sufficiency: You can scream obscenities at will and nobody will judge you.
9-Attraction: A woman who loves beer and watching football is hot. Furthermore, the guy you like can watch the game ... at home.
10 - If the above reasons you have not been motivated and are a straight woman (or a gay man) in his right mind, I present ...

FOOTBALL SELECTION OF ANDREA;)
After an arduous process of research and selection, 26 players have been chosen for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy!

Christoph Metzelder, Michael Ballack, Arne Friedrich, Sebastian Kehl, Lucas Podolski, Zinedine Zidane, Yoann Gourcuff, Michael Owen, David Beckham, Fredrik Ljungberg, Markus Rosenberg, Christian Wilhelmsson, Roque Santa Cruz, Diego Forlan, Andriy Shevchenko, Artur Boruc, Victor Valdes, Spain Iker Casillas, Cesc Fabregas, Alberto Gilardino, Alessandro Del Piero, Fabio Cannavaro , Francesco Totti, Cristiano Ronaldo, Nuno Gomes, Kaka, Rafa Marquez.

Im in the football team by The All American Rejects

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Notes: large no longer

Ways to be dead. The World Cup is history for nearly half of the teams. As I write this missing just two groups to be defined. The biggest disappointment, you do not dig too much to discover: Italy's Lippi and Domenech's France, that rascal.

The two protagonists of the 2006 final ended up blurring on South African courts, grieving for their own misery, more historical conjuncture.

Because in the German World arbitrator granted glory given to the "Azzurri" to a war Australia, and France crushed with a couple of flashes, first to a more than mediocre Spain that always stifles enthusiasm, and then a Brazil with fear and crutch.

And both, even Jacquet France 1998 - mostly they walked dying, until someone comes and throws a rope. But you can not fool all the people all the time.

What comes . So pale Cup in its early promises to get interesting from eighth. Because there a key to a team semi-finalists will be considered non-elite, call Uruguay, United States, South Korea and Ghana. And all thanks to Capello's England, guilty in his opinion the quake hierarchies that will be this tournament.

Because there is no way to understand, beyond the sometimes anarchic laws of football, how a side that meets the likes of Lampard, Gerrard and Rooney should get his hands on Jermaine Defoe to beat a few workers who came from Slovenia.

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March for Animal Rights, May 22, 2010. From the Angel of Independence at the National Palace (Zocalo).

Although I have discussed this topic before, it's sad how easily we tend to forget or ignore. Some that do not consider it relevant, others hurt us open our eyes to the awful reality that millions of animals live day by day. Many of us are horrified at the cruelty to animals and yet contribute to it with our indifference. Whether through ignorance or convenience, we live a life based on the exploitation of other species. I am ashamed to admit that my own habits are not exempt from cruelty.

Animal liberation is an uncomfortable subject and thorny. It forces us to question our ethics, our habits and customs as society and as individuals, to wonder if we are willing to sacrifice some of our comfortable lifestyle in favor of innocent lives. As with the issue of feminism, there are many prejudices that seek to denigrate the cause, using pretexts frankly absurd and primitive with pseudo-scientific basis. A militant of this case are called radicals, extremists, terrorists, but: is not fundamentally immoral, terrifyingly extreme the way we behave as a species not only to animals but to the planet?

act as if the destruction of nature do not represent the end of our species. We are scared to face reality, we are outraged but we are not responsible. The truth is much more convenient and easier to pretend that nothing happens, turn your head away, close our ears. Stop the cruelty and exploitation suffered by the animals would be easier if we all did our part. Until this happens, do the right thing is difficult and sometimes downright heavy.

For my part I'm tired of turning the gaze, not remain indifferent.

Let's start with some:

"Do not buy clothes or shoes or leather, synthetics are just as good
-use products that NO experience with animals
-Reduce the much as possible your consumption of meat meals
-Avoid "exotic" endangering the species
-Spay your pets
"Do not buy animals," Do not lean
adoptalos sadistic events: dogfights, cockfights and bullfights
"Do not attend circuses that use animals
-Report abuse: HERE
-Foster to your friends and family these actions
-Use your online social networks to support the cause
- INFORMATE and participates via email

PD-I recommend you download the song for this post. The version of my player (youtube) is not half as good as the original.

Do not Kill The Animals by Nina Hagen & Lene Lovich

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Zapping

That is, a pause (other) in the midst of all this World Cup. A pause to read some of J. A . Worthwhile for a change.

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World Notes: this chance

I said, what chance . Jean Beausejour is one of those typical front without goal that abound in the Mexican League. His meeting with the opposing goal is as convoluted as its name, supposedly of Haitian origin. A lot came he set the party of your choice, Chilean Marcelo Bielsa's Argentina, to tiny Honduras. The ball hit out of sheer luck in the leg and entered. So things are happening in this World Cup, which is owing him a lot of football. However, it was the best match I've seen so far.

necessary evil. Or by chance one puts it between the posts is the Mexican Guille Franco. But we already know, is not his fault. Basque is that Aguirre is determined to use him to prove his theory that technicians can be considered a necessary evil in football. Mal will be Mexico when the two players who are the poster child for the selection, Andres Guardado and Memo Ochoa, are on the bench. The latter moved by none other than the Conejo Perez.

I tell the SOCIT than there are and they come: I think the worst Mexican national team since World Cup I have memory usage, that is, since 1986. Reason to consider that favorite.

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World Notes 1

certainty. In football there are no hierarchies. This is a World Cup deserves to be won by New Zealand. I say no because neither North Korea looming joke in my head that a communist country is world champion of anything other than torture, lies and repression. Never in the sport I love. Poverty

random. Hit the 32 teams in South Africa, poverty is an image I hope will be deleted soon. But I doubt it. Because the abundance of chance has imposed its rule. Too many goals scored by errors in carambola, by distractions. None of the illusion of winning it. On top of this ball that makes me doubt about the benefits of technology based the show.

Too many goals scored by defenders. It is as if the boleros began to be sung by the drummers.

Running Starting A Period

Guanajuato

In 2010 we celebrate 200 years of Mexico's independence from English rule. While the Historic Route is extensive, it covers about 23 cities in eight states, three major cities are in Guanajuato and while car trips me extremely dizzy, I took the practice I went to school and know the days 13, 14 and 15 May.

Luckily we went on a monster truck spacious and comfortable with air conditioning and television, but after a five-hour trip with a stop at bathroom, rich vodka disguised juice and then revealed to see two films, we Guanajuato tired, hungry and eager to get to the Hotel. Horrible surprise that I got when I realized that first we would do some of our scheduled visits, and my stomach pains have to wait. The Collar "San Ramon" I might have been more interesting if he had not needed a bath. The Hacienda Bar just reminded me that we were forbidden to drink during the trip down the mine was the worst idea I have, since the humidity, depth and lack of ventilation allegedly shot asthma eradicated in my childhood and next hour was breathing difficult, if not painful.

From there we went to the Temple of San Cayetano, also known as La Valenciana, whose altar is bathed in gold and its peculiar history. Of course, between the blasphemous pictures of my friends and a man of the church as he explained, but really wanted to evangelize atheists, I spent a good time of joy and fun (my life is complete now that I saw Yisus Grandparents).

The next stop was the "Treasury of the Coachman," a pseudo-museum of the Inquisition, which found the cynical desire of some Guanajuato by displaying a pair of supposedly historical objects, replicas, cheap and tasteless pictures 3d. The trip caused me grief of others, as the guide, dressed in a monk's habit, it kept saying nonsense, watching with rapt attention to my teachers, citing the Da Vinci Code. The only good thing was the explanation of Professor of History and photos (the other teacher almost makes me giggle attack defending the church. God, protect me from your followers).

After getting stuck chela pizza and drink in secret, arrived at the hotel The Abbey, to change, toileting, etc. and come out. At last we would visit the city of Guanajuato. The first stop was the Corn Exchange Granaditas, scene of the early movement (a super killing). Then, in one of the hills flanking the capital is the huge monument to Pípila, whose viewpoint we could see the whole city. Later, after a little swim and enjoy the hotel, went to dinner. The pozole, place and the conversation were most enjoyable, but what captivated us all was the amount of local beauties walking calmly through the plaza. Later in the hotel, we spent a long night of chaos and bullshit, excited by the great freedom we had.

The next day, after spending hours in the pool, visited Dolores Hidalgo, the cradle of independence. Visit the parish of Our Lady of Sorrows, where the priest Miguel Hidalgo gave the historic cry was most exciting. Then we moved to Hill House Museum and a former prison that also serves as a museum today. We ate at a colorful restaurant (the food was delicious, especially my legal beer with Clamato) and then bought the place extremely rare snow delicious flavors. That night, back in Guanajuato, we went to the traditional alley, a path that starts at the beautiful Teatro Juarez and goes through the narrow and winding alleys of the city to the Alley of the kiss, the scene of a popular legend. At the end of the tour went to a bar, where I got bored enough, but I took a couple of drinks flirtatious. While everyone danced went for a walk and got good photos of the night Church, theater and tunnels in the city. Back to the hotel at dawn, exhausted and half farts.

The next morning, we took our last hours of hotel swimming. After we visited the famous mummies of Guanajuato, Hidalgo Market, where I bought two typical (and delicious) Royos guava. We finished dead tired and on the way to the next destination fell most surrendered. San Miguel de Allende, our last stop is a place where my mother keeps a lot of love, so my expectations were high. Personally I thought a bit overpriced (and prices, by God!). Of course, the Casa Allende and its museum is beautiful and highly recommended. Needless to say, of the Parish of San Miguel Archangel, stunning Gothic style. Before embarking on the back we ate at a small restaurant where we had a great time.

return was terribly long and cumbersome. We stopped for no reason federal, my stomach turned to give me problems and stopped at a mini-market to buy chatter before arriving at eleven o'clock at night school, where I was greeted by my mom. Despite the setbacks I had a great time and really changed my perspective on the history of Independence. They shook relationships with my fellow travelers and especially me very good taste and desire to travel again soon. I hope you enjoy

of this chronic and sorry for the delay. We are reading.

Low Rider by War

Woman Strangled With Hands

Animal Rights Reader Meet Author Credits


First of all I apologize to you for having absented himself so much. As you may have noticed this is the hundredth entry of my blog. I had many ideas about what they write and I was thinking a long time, but I was afraid to begin. So I went and I joined for delaying entry, which further increased my anxiety about it.

write this because I can not anymore. I need to tell what happened in this month. I hope you know how much I care about the blog reading despite the disappointment that was for me this particular entry. This month I spent away allowed me to analyze my evolution as a person, living very interesting things, to relive a little of my past and plan for my future entries.

Since I fell in love with the Internet have used some names like Gatitez (my email), Diva Nicotina (as I know in the wave rockabilly) and Daisy Pg. The latter is the one I use most, and that is all mine (googleenlo and all results are on me.) I made up that nickname when I started doing street art to sign my work and they could find on the Internet for people who liked my stickers.

The first blog I fell in love (and indeed still love you more) was the Carolina Aguirre "Bestiary" . I was fascinated not only by his talent, the impeccable way in which spins its ideas and themes, but by the format. The idea of \u200b\u200bbeing able to express thoughts, theories, and hallucinations as freely and publicly, that massive literary approach, I found it quite irresistible and I decided to make my own blog. I tried three different services. At the end won blogger.

"PGDAISY" was the original name of this blog. The first entries were eliminated, my wedding plans with my then boyfriend, a bawdy critical to Emo, a collection of pirate-inspired outfits that had armed and an article about brotherly love that had my ex and her best friend. Looking back I regret if any deleted, but eventually could not stand to read even the name of my ex and me the other entries were very frivolous.

two years I've been writing here and I have yet desire to keep throwing up ideas and putting together a collage of my anecdotes. Not only has it been a therapy, but a way of documenting my life. I'm impressed actually have readers in Romania, Italy, Germany, Spain, Central and South America in addition to visiting Mexico. I am excited about my 25-45 daily visitors despite arriving by search absurd. I write mostly for me and my close friends, but the fact that you use the time to read this motivates me to write interesting posts, and I take my time to post things that are worth to be defended.

Dr. Jekyll is a window into my life and read the back part of it. No longer are simple people for me are my readers and I am very grateful you're here, whether you find some use or meaning, as if it seems frivolous but entertaining or identify with me.

I send these words, readers. Without you, I might have stopped writing my blog for some time. They are my second great motivation. Stay tuned for the next posts they were incubating in my head and they are ready to go and nest in yours.

We are reading. Currently PD

Carolina Aguirre has published two books, including his blog Bestiaria. Guess what my future goal?

Reader Meet Author by Morrissey

Ejeculated During Brazilian Wax

Cubans marched in Houston

R epresentatives of the growing Cuban community in Houston rallied in the afternoon Last Saturday May 22 in defense of human rights, in memory of the martyrs Pedro Luis Boitel and Orlando Zapata, and in support of political prisoners and prisoners of conscience who have mistreatment in the prisons of Cuba.

The march was held in the grounds of the Herman Park and ended in front of the bust of Cuban national hero José Martí in the Rose Garden, near the Miller Outdoor Theater.

was there where several Cuban exile political activists, businessmen, former members of Brigade 2506 and former political prisoners took the floor, including Enrico Saumell, Armando Radelat, Jorge Ferragut, José Cruz Lima, Luis A. Pita, Adolfo Rodriguez and Evelio Fernandez, among others.

Special thanks to Lazaro Guzman and Jorge Ferragut sending photos and a review of what happened.

Letter Of Request For Housing Allowance

I know I would not raise videos in a while, but some called for a new and here's two. Please help stop the injustices that are committed every day against animals. See you at the march.


Saturday May 22, 11:00 a.m. Mexico City.

UP THE ANGEL OF INDEPENDENCE TO NATIONAL PALACE

The march aims to improve the laws and force our government to apply tougher sanctions to protect animals.

PLEASE BRING BANNERS FOR THE IMPROVEMENT OF LAWS PROTECTING ANIMALS AND WILD

NOT TAKE YOUR PETS TO THE EVENT.

This event is organized by citizens, will wear WHITE jersey that is a peaceful demonstration and so they do not allow misunderstandings.

PROPOSALS NATIONAL:

* Mass campaigns free sterilization of animals throughout the city

* No more kennels, building an animal shelter overseen by citizens and welfare organizations

* No selling wild animals

* Not for sale puppies excessive punishment

*
animal abandonment
* Prison for those who mistreat animals

* Information campaigns and education to promote respect and protection of animals

Collecton Letters From Dental Office

Elvira

A3 Ppt Poster Template

Dr. Jekyll


the moment Dr. Jekyll experiments some changes, I have many ideas in my head and so the blog may seem chaotic. Disorganized when I get my inspiration.

is for this avalanche of ideas that the latest entries do not have music and why Twitter and Mr. Hyde be more active than usual, and I do not want to saturate this blog.

This mini-entry is only to tell them about some changes. Forth in the FAQ section be very basic information about people and places that I mentioned in my blog. You can also find there links to all pages in which I participate regularly. Just upload videos

occasionally. If you are interested to see more stupid invite you to my channel .

Onision Link: Q___
much I appreciate your comments and simply read me. We are in contact.

Does My Scorpio Male Like Me

About Renton and vlog

28-April-2010

Mr. Hyde
PD-The rate of the video I speak of my grace fell the next day. In contrast to the other only mentioned in passing was secured a position in my psyche, and now I'm stupid and foolishly "love." See my day. My God, I think I went to high school.

1-May-2010

PD2-end was cut, but was not very relevant. Greetings and comment please. Questions for me or Renton?

When The Yukon Will Be Change

Like a fish

Another mini-entry. Why am I writing this? Because I am prone to commit all sorts of indiscretions and bad decisions (with much hype and drama). I want to clarify that I am not dramatic on purpose and I am aware that it is unfortunate that I have a defect. Acted in the heat of the moment and I often do things that I regret over and over again.

Why is entitled "Like a Fish"? Because the die mouth. Whether oral or written, what I say is generally unfortunate. I am a person indiscreet, foolish and reckless. They just do not shut up and might not be so disastrous if it did not involve anyone but me, but not usually the case. I can not save my comments, I can not keep secrets, not even mine. Sola ruined me many opportunities I get in trouble free.

me sick so, first by the amount of unnecessary trouble and I get second, I hate to be apologizing all the time. Yes, I regret the things I do, but I feel pathetic apology always. Always ashamed.

I would be more cautious, more sensible, more discreet, more mature. There are days that I will not hold even myself. This is one of my sad hours.

Woman Strangled With Handsfilm

The 16 was 19, Milk's birthday, my best friend. He had a big party with Jack Daniel's, friends, music, and some things I should not put illegal. It was sooo good, it hurts that he was too unconscious to remember everything. On 17 my favorite band, Los Gatos, played at the Foro Alicia and luckily I could go with one of my best friends, Ximena Bitch aka Luz, who had come to Regina and finished one week before Elvira, Fluff and I drink first in a back room and then at home for a photographer we met that night.

Anyway, the night of the gig we too early, people glancing hostile formed as usual, while Ximena and I we took the obligatory pictures. We were in the third cigarette when my beloved cats out of the room. I run towards them shouting: Any ! , who answered me with an enthusiastic: Nicotine! At this point, the reader, please take a minute to imagine the faces of awe, envy and hatred of wannabe whores row to see that. Muajaja. Los Gatos (two thirds of them, the Rockies lost on the way) we say they have no clubhouse, and it's not cool to be paradote there, so we invited a few beers in a hotel for the night is the official clubhouse. They drink, watch television, talk and begins to reach more people. At half past eleven Bitch and I decided to go to Alicia to see what band is playing. Los Gatos let us go alone with the promise that we will not leave until they touch. Just hear the final notes of the Greedy, after (not sure of the order) saw Los Pardos (I almost come when they played "Road to Hell") and Los Locos Rebels. Both were magnificent. Some guys took us out to dance and invited us beer, friendly bar subject we kept our stuff to have freedom of movement. I saw familiar faces, some people recognized me, me, including a girl who still remembers that one year before I got to dance in the bar. "Shame? Nah.

Cats take the stage, I make my way to the front with Ximena stuck to my heels and beer in hand we become mad. Misfit, cover of Radiohead's Creep, was echoed by all, some in English. Any girls starts to climb on stage, Bitch and I among them. The last time I was the only one, but hey, I better not spoiled. Yes, I devoted Any "Amorcito", just as promised. We got, we heard "Hit the Road Jack" in English, we took photos (Pacobilly. ufff ..) and leave early elegantly site, apologizing to the Cats through the big brother Jack, who incidentally is a great dancer.

I can not wait for our next outing, bitch, and as well said, when you're with me, who knows where you finish.

Amorcito by Los Gatos