Time has stated: The good, if brief, twice good and bad, if a little less bad . Today it seems that we have grasped at the first part of the famous phrase gracianesca and also altered at will, or if small, antojete. If Balta were alive and they had not eaten white grubs of the underground, their occurrence would read: Everything or short or anything. So, without further. Is that we want it all before and, anxiety eats away at us inside, like the carrion oruguillas Balta. Brevity has settled into the daily work so much and so quickly has caused Marinetti is stirred in his grave rubbing the little that remains of onions while shouting: "Now, eh, now." A century later the town took over and created the neofuturismo Marinetti, praise of contraction, the shortened form, rounding and premature ejaculation, which changes its name to eyaz and thus serves as a noun and as onomatopoeia.
Anyone could be a futurist painter
anyone now reportedly only read the headlines and not all. Even obvious verbs and other straw. Obama re-election. Messi show. Candemor Rajoy. He also invented words to read and as each diagonal one interprets what he wants, there are experts in all matters universal. Discussions fester by the end disagreement, but a rival of sneezing, during a very short and reduced to single words. Logically, everything always ends with loud insults, as this recent debate on the state of the nation:
- Socialism.
- Will.
- Thief.
- whoreson.
This is the neofuturismo. Short and uncompromising. It neofuturista, I might add. And I like it. Get in the car and throttle, but I stay at first, the engine roaring and smoke everywhere. Zapping constantly holding my eyelids still, naranjamecánicamente. I go to work and leave once, threw some papers into the air and challenge the head with a scornful look and swift. I no longer walk, run . Obvious to pronounce words of more than four syllables, and yes I can, the devilish question runs forming contractions. Now life is fleeting, strange and chaotic, but exciting and intense.
maximum intensity.
However, I could not apply to food neofuturista soon. There are places I can not swallow or take a single bite (as a good futurist), there are dishes to eat every day, unknown ingredients, pre addictive and fascinating that I carry liquids to other places that keep me from despatch quickly. I bask, stop time and examine each texture, smell and taste. Therefore, when the time of trade and bebercio, click your fingers and the Earth stops spinning. Sharpened my senses and savor every step of the traceability of food. Thus, any meal translates into several days of intake, with consequent weight gain.
And when Jabba the Hut , I have taken the slow and parsimony as a flag. Neofuturismo definitively abandoned, now I do call, the Caracol. However, not by my new mood more subdued, but by the slime secreted by the mere fact of breathing. It is both the liquid, I have developed gills breathing and seen neoprene shorts. Baba and greasy folds extend my house which tsunami lazy. I'm causing a wave of domestic devastation and viscosity mixture of disgust and I start to flow out the windows and the neighbors complain because they covered the sun. From the street screaming because my mother said I must be getting lost ground baba. Every time I answer, disabling an intersection flooded cars. Already been installed three or four boats shops in the neighborhood.
My metabolism has adapted to this new dude ov laif and it seems that the years do pass in vain, that is, not grow old. I estimate that at this speed ("slow?) Get to the 180 years and will deal with two or three blocks, weighing about 240 tons. Anyway, although many parts of my body living in the homes of others, I'm lonely. The entire population remains neofuturista and reduced their lifestyles a constant vibration of the limbs, sleeplessness and a constant light and grunts as a form of communication. How well do the thing I'm going to tuck away.
Anyone could be a futurist painter anyone now reportedly only read the headlines and not all. Even obvious verbs and other straw. Obama re-election. Messi show. Candemor Rajoy. He also invented words to read and as each diagonal one interprets what he wants, there are experts in all matters universal. Discussions fester by the end disagreement, but a rival of sneezing, during a very short and reduced to single words. Logically, everything always ends with loud insults, as this recent debate on the state of the nation:
- Socialism.
- Will.
- Thief.
- whoreson.
This is the neofuturismo. Short and uncompromising. It neofuturista, I might add. And I like it. Get in the car and throttle, but I stay at first, the engine roaring and smoke everywhere. Zapping constantly holding my eyelids still, naranjamecánicamente. I go to work and leave once, threw some papers into the air and challenge the head with a scornful look and swift. I no longer walk, run . Obvious to pronounce words of more than four syllables, and yes I can, the devilish question runs forming contractions. Now life is fleeting, strange and chaotic, but exciting and intense.
maximum intensity. However, I could not apply to food neofuturista soon. There are places I can not swallow or take a single bite (as a good futurist), there are dishes to eat every day, unknown ingredients, pre addictive and fascinating that I carry liquids to other places that keep me from despatch quickly. I bask, stop time and examine each texture, smell and taste. Therefore, when the time of trade and bebercio, click your fingers and the Earth stops spinning. Sharpened my senses and savor every step of the traceability of food. Thus, any meal translates into several days of intake, with consequent weight gain.
And when Jabba the Hut , I have taken the slow and parsimony as a flag. Neofuturismo definitively abandoned, now I do call, the Caracol. However, not by my new mood more subdued, but by the slime secreted by the mere fact of breathing. It is both the liquid, I have developed gills breathing and seen neoprene shorts. Baba and greasy folds extend my house which tsunami lazy. I'm causing a wave of domestic devastation and viscosity mixture of disgust and I start to flow out the windows and the neighbors complain because they covered the sun. From the street screaming because my mother said I must be getting lost ground baba. Every time I answer, disabling an intersection flooded cars. Already been installed three or four boats shops in the neighborhood.
My metabolism has adapted to this new dude ov laif and it seems that the years do pass in vain, that is, not grow old. I estimate that at this speed ("slow?) Get to the 180 years and will deal with two or three blocks, weighing about 240 tons. Anyway, although many parts of my body living in the homes of others, I'm lonely. The entire population remains neofuturista and reduced their lifestyles a constant vibration of the limbs, sleeplessness and a constant light and grunts as a form of communication. How well do the thing I'm going to tuck away.
0 comments:
Post a Comment