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I'm not dead ...

What unfortunate place this cachivachero, who came to show on the network in my busiest weeks of the semester! But I'm not dead, nor have I forgotten this virtual corner. I have gadgets that show and uselessness to tell, but sometimes very inconvenient real world has demanded my time. To my readers and especially for my junk, my sincerest apologies.

And to top it off with political pavosidad: We will come back.

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Vortex Galindo




Episode 4: Galindo

"Go, go through favor.

Dr. Galindo rushes in consulting Merino. His disheveled appearance and his blunt features show that more than medicine, should have been devoted to masonry. It seems a mystery that had managed to pass the race, although many say that thanks to the shady contacts of his father, a man of dubious reputation, who often move in circles that border on illegality. His long hair copper, bound with a rubber band used since time immemorial, combined with their expressionless eyes charcoal, giving the impression of a person careless and unprofessional. Exactly what is Dr. Galindo.

-Don Hey Isaac, I wanted to tell some of the guy that I operao .

Isaac was still thinking about what just happened, the warm light he thought he saw the newspaper of Marcus, if threads of fate, if nonsense Merino cosmic ... did not believe in the supernatural, but that view beyond their rational understanding.

"Hey, viejales," you hear or what?

"Yes, Galindo, yes. Dime. What?

"Well, see, the guy is in question is quite touching. Neither pajolera idea if you wake up or what will happen to him ... the fact is that the patient wanted to change you, because I like having a stiff step comatose loaded on my back, you understand, of course.

"Dr. Galindo, his duty is to heal patients, not interchangeable with other doctors as if they were postcards.

- Post says viejales! Let's see, old thing, I do not get it. You are going to change your patient ... or things will get ugly. Very, very, very ugly!

Isaac Merino know what that means. murky know that the stories that tell the Galindo family are true, and that this decision could cost you a lot. He knows quite well.

-Galindo, leave my office, I have patients waiting, and other matters that require my attention. Obviaré your last comment, I will turn a deaf ear, unless you want the Font Manager finds out that you are threatening to "oldies" because you can not fulfill your job. You say.

Merino "Well, well. You win, but it does not stay that way. Keep it for sure, you swallow your words and come begging for change.

"Yes, what you say Galindo. Get out of my office at this time unless you want it gets too ugly. Very, very, very ugly!

Galindo lets out a grunt, and leave the query. Murphy began his round of consultations, forgetting the day, light, and Galindo.

So much for the episode 4, I expect your comments. I apologize for the delay in uploading this chapter, but as a reward, episode 5 will be uploaded next Monday.

The wheel of fate never stop turning.

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New blog!


Yes, the family is expanding and we decided to open a branch in the world illustration ...
encourage one to follow our new blog! discover truly wonderful :-)
http://martinagolafre.blogspot.com

Did Bulma Have Any Affection On Goku

Chapter 8 (part II)

"By the way, have you been in a tasting sometime? - I asked.
"No, this is the first" I said sheepishly.
-v have to follow my directions and above all enjoy a drink, "said the foot and filling about a third. Then I began to explain that he must first bring the cup to the waist to see the top of the wine in the glass and then was closer to eye level to see the degree of clarity and at the same time tears and excitement. She took my hand and made me take the cup, my face was going to explode from so much embarrassment. While approaching the glass to my nose as I was explaining I had to do. In the first place was to smell the wine without shaking so to observe the primary aromas are those from the grape and the earth. Then he tried to shake the cup to get the secondary aromas are from the fermentation and after steeping cup to smell the wine again to obtain the tertiary aromas are from conservation, and aging. One of the most curious of the process was when he had to introduce the language into the cup to feel the sweet sensations at the tip, was the most erotic! Although I must admit that the most "original" was having to spit the wine once tasted. Frankly, I preferred swallow, because spitting was not in what I believed should be the manners of a fine girl like me, was the most cockney. Actually, to me all that seemed very complicated, indeed, all the wines and I knew I smelled the same, but was enchanted with
explanations and the passion with which she described each wine, you could tell he enjoyed every aroma, every sip, every word.
When we finished we went to an adjoining room had incredible views of the vineyards and the Serra del Montsant. In the great room was a table set up with great detail and side of the table was a picture with different dishes coated with silver bell.
"You sit here that have better views. If you think I serve the food because it'll be more comfortable. Is this OK? - Arnau said.
"Yes, I think it's perfect! - I delighted.
The food was delicious, and your company more. We chatted animatedly throughout the meal, everything in general and nothing in particular. I have to admit that the wine cost more each time I do not screw it up and hide my secret.
When we finished our meal was getting dark and we decided to go back to not make too late.
Thankfully the journey back was quieter, mainly because the postprandial drowsiness made me sleep like a marmot and when I woke up, the part of the journey tortuous had passed. Finally, having completely dark, we arrived at my house
"Well, we've arrived," Arnold said sheepishly. The truth is that I missed the sudden shyness.
"Yes, we are here. I have to tell you that I've had a wonderful time. You are a charming host. Everything was perfect, well, all except me I'm a clumsy ... - I embarrassed trying to apologize once again for all my blunders.
- Nonsense!, You're a girl really special and fun. Without you, I would not have spent even half right, "he said looking into my eyes. Making great efforts could keep his eyes as he felt a tickle in the stomach that made me want to laugh out loud with a sort of nervous laughter. After a few seconds of looking Arnau approached me, wrapped his arms around me and kissed. If I had to define the kiss in a tasting, I assure you that had the highest scores in all aspects. After the expected "unexpected" kiss, we stayed a few moments in silence. He always had the right word to say and did not know me, always so pitch forward, I had been silent as if I had forgotten the language of tasting. Finally we said goodbye.
address to the door I could see how the gossip of Rita and Rosa had been following everything from the window. So you could imagine the interrogation that I expected to enter the house.
-Buenoooo, how did your trip Minerva? I would say better than fine ... - Rita said Rosa ironically looking askance.
- It was perfect! We had a great time. Too bad it's a clumsy and has been stringing blunder after blunder. Shame I've spent! Arnau is charming, a gentleman's face, "I said madly in love.
Then I explained in great detail the wonderful day he had spent with Arnau and also, how no, all my pathetic mishaps.

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Bolts: "Owl Eye" Dialogue

"Zokkaras pulled a small wooden chest and uncovered. This - he said - is one of the most useful devices ever created - and took what looked like a magnifying glass and silver exquisitely carved with the symbol of an eye in the handle - it is the Eye of the Owl, a relic made to decipher all the world's languages, even those that came before or after its invention. At one time there were several of these interesting devices, but today I could tell you which is the last lens holder of that particular skill. Use it wisely, Strage, and will undoubtedly be of tremendous help. Just pass it by a page written in any language mortal, and behind the lens can be read in another language, you should only think and communicate to the magnifying glass just putting a little trust in it. "(The Pilgrimage Past Goliath, pag. 54)

This gadget is one of my favorites. Its existence responds to my concern to decipher the languages \u200b\u200bthat are unknown to me but either because of its resonance or its spelling me hopelessly fascinated. In my story "The Pilgrim of Pas Goliath" (unfinished, of course), I give the main character's great ability to understand any written language. A story that echoes the theme of the past, El Peregrino (working title , by the way) said, among other things, how things have been lost was considered obsolete, even relics like The Eye of the Owl, obviously useful but forgotten since ancient times.

Zokkaras Sage mentioned, however, that the extraordinary engine is only applicable to languages \u200b\u200b'fatal', and this refers to the languages \u200b\u200bof perishable beings in world history, not of those who do not feel Over time, such as mountains or oceans, who undoubtedly have their own language, but nobody understands.

His name is probably a joke over this attempt as a writer, but I firmly believe that if an eye can decipher any language, is the eye of the owl, sage among the fauna, shy and mysterious. "Cliché? Maybe, but my gadget.

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the bottom the stairs of any building in Venezuela.

"A so ..."
"A no ..."
"Yes, okay, yes ball"
"Hell, no," TAS crazy? "
"Loco no, is that this happens because it has to happen, that's life. Accept"
"What will you know you? To you what you like is to walk jodiéndome patience"
"Ahh well ... you you remember me "
" Dude, that's not always true, fixed, as a dead cert, a thousand factors can change the question "
" Dude, I tell you: it goes. Be prepared is what "
" Let me still, I'll tell you later what this sheath, which Crabs "
" Date as we speak, quiet "
" Chao ".

Nine months later, Arthur's girlfriend gave birth to a chubby boy of 3.8 kg.

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Annex I to the Previous Post

If you believe that what I spoke on previous post is a crazy straw, look what a 18 years Kenbei just taught me. This story started writing just coming to live in a new country, and some of my friends have enjoyed. The character, an old seventy-year-old , self-doubt as I doubt, and a voice replied:

"The power does not die Strage Verdi! - The voices told him, waving something in his soul for many years was distressed - or older. One's life ends when we stop believing we can do something. While there is blood in your veins, you can change the world. Maybe it's too late when you manage to understand, but in doing so, even for a moment, you'll be pleased. "

Draw your own conclusions, I've got mine.

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myself reading my

"The breath of the planet ... her crying ... the sad moan of disappointment ... as a mother who mourns the loss of a child ... Earth laments the betrayal of man ... War, famine, pestilence. All have been protagonists of recent times. Time in which humans have changed, however, and has forgotten its origin ... violating the Planet ... His glory has been built in the ongoing abuse of the earth. But everything has to end, because the planet has been awakened, and end up with everything that is harmful, and the way we ... we do not foresee a long time ... "

I can say that for much of my childhood and adolescence was always with some variation of sketch pad under my arm. Many people, in fact, I keep asking" what about pictures? Have you graduated as a cartoonist? ". Such was my reputation, a reputation that bathed me eferverscente of whenever the teacher asked us a drawing in class, making me feel more in demand than a virtuoso of Brazilian football in the English league.

Today little is drawing seriously (though my lecture notes reflect my addiction to the cartoon) and much more to write. Some are surprised that I, as many imagined drawing for Disney or Pixar animator, I deviated from the monotonous world of letters. I am constantly giving explanations to people when they ask me if I'm drawing, when the background is what makes me say: "and do you care? It's my life and do with it what I please ".

admit however that there was an almost tectonic break my talent, one that produced a consistent branch of my artistic preferences.

The lines read up (the incoherent quasi-prophetic warning) now I recognize them as the first earthquake that caused the displacement of the plates of my talents. Was this the first thing I wrote in a comic yet (like most of my stories, stories, projects, etc ...) maintain incomplete, but not forgotten.

Those who bothered to read my first blog post knows that this is less about ideas incomplete and myself, and could even be said that I am also an incomplete picture. In my journey through the files of these fragments of ideas, that sea of \u200b\u200bold folders and scanned images, I began to reread what was written at the time for my comic. And so I finished reading this Kenbei of sixteen like a person completely separate from me, one that has given me a lesson through his writings.

reed

This pubert of life seemed to understand much more than the hesitant 25-year journalist who became, and had such conviction in your dreams floating in the lines he came to save for posterity can smell a spirit with a determination and an enviable view. My parents and family laugh to hear that I am old with just two and a half decades under my belt, but as the architect Franklin Wright said: "Youth is just a state of mind." And what the spirit of this carajito! With ideas that germinated within four walls of the Trigaleña on rainy afternoons and time to kill, is capable of projecting his lyre over time and give me a much needed slap whose impact seems to scream "I'm still here, asshole!" .

certainly an interesting experience to read yourself.

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(VIN) National Immunodeficiency Virus

"Ignorance is the most violent element in society" Emma Goldstein.

Do I believe if I say that countries get sick? Are primarily territories, but also people. There comes a time when one must speak of a nation as well be talking about an individual and, in turn, their people as if they speak of cells. So would each of us are cells in a larger organism, and fulfill different roles within this body. Several times in recent years I have explained to my family and friends to Venezuela, the women beautiful, charming and above all provocative, has acquired a severe immune deficiency, a kind of national AIDS.

No one knows, not even herself, and for over four decades all enjoyed his infectious smile, his rhythmic shimmy, brilliant gozadera. Many were the men who enjoyed her charms and not think about the necessary protection for those moments were not fatal to it. Men that she seduced and innocent and bountiful, Caribbean passion came with them. But they did not give him anything. They laughed behind the beautiful but stupid mongrel served only to satisfy their basest desires.

symptoms that afflict today are many: hunger, crime, unemployment, inflation. These colds that can affect any country, but for poor Venezuela, like other peoples of the so-called third world, are deadly. The diagnoses have indicated that this symptom picture is a well-known but powerful following virus: ignorance.

Ignorance is a microorganism who dwells everywhere, is latent in each cell of society. Like the bacteria that live naturally in the human body, the problem arises when out of proportion. Since the sentence says: "We are ignorant, what happens is that we ignore different things." You can not pretend to have a nation of scholars, this thing is a great absurdity. But ignorance is not merely the absence of a university or a lucrative profession. Not even necessarily related to poverty.

At the bottom of our "national scam", ie the site where a country has the antibodies needed to combat agents harmful, are basic notions as independence from government, educational and health policies consistent, among many others that are needed to call Venezuela a "republic." Like the AIDS virus, the danger of the virus of ignorance is that its symptoms are only evident once it has taken over the basic elements that defend the nation from a chronic infection.

If only Venezuela had insisted on using a condom before a few decades of pleasure! This cost barrier placed just simple: building schools, urbanizing the country, encouraging citizens to to work. No. brunette Poor, poor the catira! Poor Venezuela, who would say Public Disorder, was so badly nursed with oil bottle, unaware even that.

And those old hands not bother to remind him. Sixtysomethings old white collar and serpentine rhetoric promised him flowers, he warmed his ear with his electoral promises. And she was dressed up many times over the years, sometimes green and others white, and celebrated, happy to be loved by these men so delicious. Until the day came when he realized that he was ill, and there was little they cared about those men Avocado and Black Label. A couple of them, aware of the evil suffered, they won their last drops of trust and affection, but even there he was deceived.

And after a time when other men sat in his chair, he could not contain her despair. Both ate resentment when he was in the mirror and was not even a shadow of what it was before, decided to try a miracle cure he heard of there. As they said, had been patented in Russia, although the bottle he could find was a kind of generic drug sold a bearded old man, a soldier very picturesque, snuff-loving Caribbean.

"Do not worry, sweetheart," he said in his guapachoso accent. "With this remedy I have here I will cure all the ills that have made you suffer."

Alas de Venezuela, in desperation tried the red little pill!

Do you know how are called diseases of an AIDS patient in the terminal stage of the syndrome? Opportunistic infections. They are agents to which the human body has developed a natural immunity and yet, thanks to the destruction of the immune system, gain entry into the body the patient. These are entities that take advantage of a weak and needed to make their own, as the germs that made those old that went for over 40 years and still abound in the country.

Venezuela today in bed, but still smiles and tries to dance. Some doctors say there is still hope, but the problem is that, for some reason, she continues to believe that the red little pill will cure. As much as he repeated that old windbag and his cronies only exploit it to gain their favor, and if anything they are doing those little pill is more their weak contamination body and leave her in poverty, Venezuela does not want understand. Infections worsen, and the doctor who offers false hope only gets rich at the expense of the stricken nation. None before had taken advantage of it as much as him. Venezuela is sick, and still believes that socialism will cure.

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WARNING: Political content

fever

Call it Saturday afternoon, but I forgot to mention in my introductory post. My country, like many in Latin America and the world has been invaded by a wave of ignorance disguised as ideology whose main cause were other waves of ignorance and corruption disguised as democracy. For this and other reasons, I'm doing politics. It's that simple. Occasionally, much more often than they might like it, can see me talk about why they do not speak or in bed or on the table, and yet has more influence on both of what we like to admit. What how is this part of a box of dusty ideas decapitated and uselessness? Well, we all know that there is nothing more futile than trying to convince others that we are right, but we still do. Is not that politics?

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Let them teach you a little about the January

In my personal opinion, and from an alphabetical view, the Castilian language has no more special when compared to other Western languages \u200b\u200busing the Roman alphabet. Ø We do not have the Norwegians, the refined French Ç. Even in phonetics and pronunciation much we wind on life: "A" are "ahh", the "E" are always "uh." Nor are some exaggerated in the juxtaposition of consonants, such as Poles to say "worm" say " dżdżownica ", Or the Hungarians to provide not say" cheers "but" Egészségünkre . "

However, there is a sound that the French and Italian Posters "gn" the peoples of Eastern Europe (among others) denote "ny" and Portuguese "nh", but in Cervantes homeland has won his own handwriting: the NEA. Before its existence, the ñ was something of an "ene-square (nn), and tells the story to save effort and ink, we created this hairpiece by the name of tilde.

will say that flutter on the obvious, I meditate on the absurd, but in eñe I can see more than a phoneme.

should not be a coincidence that some of the words that characterize English speakers worldwide carry the very underrated eñe, including the name of the country where the language originated! What would Mexico and other Latin American nations without the ñ in their piñatas? Would such a splash our frustration, anger or printing if you could not cry a hell ! bouncing on the walls? How call this cycle of 365 days we use to drive the passage of time and not confuse it with a reference at the end of the human digestive system? Not to mention the adjectives for so many regions of the world such as Panama, Caribbean, Honduras, Curaçaoans, among others.

could spend all day citing the modest examples where ñ is the spice that gives flavor to our language, a crooked halo or a plume that floats above the N that identifies us in a sea of \u200b\u200blanguages and while not at risk of extinction in full (as it would imply a complete redesign of Castilian, which would it becoming turn into another completely different language) has been away from casual use, and has suffered several setbacks in large part motivated by the standardization of technology.

How many of us, virtual members of a generation, we bother to change the keyboard configuration of our computers imported into English? Who do you write text messages with eñe? He sustained very long MSN conversations, despite being carried out in perfect Castilian, technical limitations have been removed from the NEA.

Thus, and as admit Argentina's Maria Elena Walsh, the custom has been the executioner tested elements of our language as signs of openness (¿,¡) and punctuation marks have been those who considered obsolete the use of NEA, as a test controversial request of the European Union to Spain to eliminate its use.

Why do not eliminate the umlaut (ü, ë) the Germans or the tail of the cedilla (ç) the French? Is this not also a Visigothic Germanic heritage or obsolete may well be denoted by another letter of the alphabet? Gabriel García Márquez quote is appropriate, since Nobel Prize corrects those who suggested that was a character fashioned eñe when he writes: "The ñ is not an archaeological relic, but rather the opposite: a cultural leap of a Romance language that left behind the other to express in a single letter sound in other languages \u200b\u200bcontinues to be expressed with two. "

Then you should assess how much value the language we speak, if you prefer to continue removing their identity (and consequently, of our own) or which dress, choose wear it in all its glory . Modest, small and many irrelevant, beyond all dispute ñ that is a pillar that supports the Castilian language and ignore or despise it means to demolish what has endured over the centuries.

Now excuse me I retire, but I have a plate of gnocchi and a vintage wine waiting for me.

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Episode 3: The Threads of Fate

Merino went to his office, trying to fit in your head as disorderly had happened in the room named Marcus. Who was he really? "An illegal immigrant? A mobster? A amnesiac? Many questions but no answers. Nothing seemed to make sense, at least not at that time. What little I could read Isaac's day did not help anything. A burning house, a homeless man, without family, and trying find who did it ... Who wrote this diary? Was Marcus who had woken up? It looked like a science fiction story, in fact, ever thought would happen something so absurdly interesting and intriguing. Perhaps it was a mad man who had written the story and believed the star of the same. How else explain the savagery that took place in the diary? No one could have a normal mental balance after that. No one could feel only emptiness after watching his home burn, knowing that his children and his beloved wife have been charred on the inside, leaving only traces of what could have been a wonderful life. A person moved only by revenge does not own his life, is just a puppet inert, guided by the fine threads of anger and hatred.

Suddenly the room is plunged into complete darkness, and warm light manifested in the shadows, taking by surprise Isaac. No longer in his office, is no longer in the Hospital del Mar. Just go nowhere, an endless nothing as far as the eye, and beyond.

- Who are you? Where am I? Why did you bring me here?

- All in good time, Isaac Merino. The fine threads of your destiny you have attached, so irrefutable to something beyond your understanding and that of those around you, something you will never be able to fully understand, and always escape your insight. You have been adhered to as thread that has ever existed in this world. One that can crumble the very foundation that "Those" are forged in what they call "World." That thread will be a blessing and a curse, as it will change your view of everything around you. Possibly losing their minds, like many before you, but I think you're different. For something you've saved it, and something you opened the newspaper. From now on, "that" you seek. Know that you have spoken to me, know that you've saved, and know that you know what you know.

"But I do not ...

- Save yourself excuses, Isaac Merino. You and I both know that you have read the contents of the diary. Have you discovered something that you humans, you should never know. Have you discovered that you are superior beings. You opened the door to your own hell. Are you ready to suffer for the truth?

The light gets bigger and bigger, to make it absolutely blind to the doctor Merino, when it wants to realize, is back in his office, and someone calls your door insistently.