Friday, 28 November 2008
Wednesday, 26 November 2008
Jeeez, I'm such a baby!
¬¬
I wanna cry myself to sleep and have someone, something, whatever, but someone would be good, to comfort me and say everything's gonna be ok.
BUT it's Thanksgiving tomorrow, so I'll have to make a list...
Thank you, Noe, because you provide me with a warm house to live in. And incense and candles. It's such a freaky scene.
Thank you, Mom, because you cook for me to last for days and get me real vegetables and fruit and eggs from your boyfriend's farm, God bless him.
Thank you, Big Sister, because you said you'd pay my dentist's bills.
Thank you, Other Sister, because you were evil to me as children :D but eventually gave me nephews to love.
Thank you, Phoebe, for everything and every time.
Thank you people, you know who you are, puedo saber que sin vosotros duele más.
Thank you, memories, for making me the way I am, and fuck you by the way, for the same reason.
So thank you, tequila blackouts.
And thank you, sunshine, and thank you, bus driver, and thank you, mountains, and thank you, Alanis, and Canada in general, and thank you, Loctite, and thank you, roses, and God bless weed, and thank you, Britain (for my accent and PG) and thank you, world, for keeping on rolling.
I'm not ok anyway. Grateful or not.
¬¬
I wanna cry myself to sleep and have someone, something, whatever, but someone would be good, to comfort me and say everything's gonna be ok.
BUT it's Thanksgiving tomorrow, so I'll have to make a list...
Thank you, Noe, because you provide me with a warm house to live in. And incense and candles. It's such a freaky scene.
Thank you, Mom, because you cook for me to last for days and get me real vegetables and fruit and eggs from your boyfriend's farm, God bless him.
Thank you, Big Sister, because you said you'd pay my dentist's bills.
Thank you, Other Sister, because you were evil to me as children :D but eventually gave me nephews to love.
Thank you, Phoebe, for everything and every time.
Thank you people, you know who you are, puedo saber que sin vosotros duele más.
Thank you, memories, for making me the way I am, and fuck you by the way, for the same reason.
So thank you, tequila blackouts.
And thank you, sunshine, and thank you, bus driver, and thank you, mountains, and thank you, Alanis, and Canada in general, and thank you, Loctite, and thank you, roses, and God bless weed, and thank you, Britain (for my accent and PG) and thank you, world, for keeping on rolling.
I'm not ok anyway. Grateful or not.
¬¬
Tuesday, 25 November 2008
Sunday, 23 November 2008
Hester *Kubrick* Beat presents...
^^
"Me llena de orgullo y satisfacción..." haber conseguido por fin crear mi propio cutrevidrio y subirlo a Youtube, para que *el gitano* se trague sus palabras, jejeje!
Así que sin más dilación, pasen y vean. Y escuchen. Y disfruten. Mucho, mucho!
Bésame, bésame mucho,
(Coros: Mucho, mucho)
como si fuera esta tarde la última vez...
(Coros: Vez, vez, última vez)
Bésame, bésame mucho,
(Coros: Mucho, mucho)
que tengo miedo a perderte, perderte otra vez...
Otra vez, otra vez!
Bésame, bésame mucho,
(Coros: Mucho, mucho)
como si fuera esta tarde la última vez...
(Coros: Vez, vez, última vez)
Bésame, bésame mucho,
(Coros: Mucho, mucho, mucho)
que tengo miedo a perderte, perderte otra vez...
Bésame, bésame mucho,
(Coros: Mucho, mucho)
como si fuera esta tarde la última vez...
(Coros: Vez, vez, última vez)
Bésame, bésame mucho,
(Coros: Nada, nada, nada)
que tengo miedo a perderte, perderte otra vez...
No va más, no va más!
Aguardiente Swing Quartet
^^
"Me llena de orgullo y satisfacción..." haber conseguido por fin crear mi propio cutrevidrio y subirlo a Youtube, para que *el gitano* se trague sus palabras, jejeje!
Así que sin más dilación, pasen y vean. Y escuchen. Y disfruten. Mucho, mucho!
Bésame, bésame mucho,
(Coros: Mucho, mucho)
como si fuera esta tarde la última vez...
(Coros: Vez, vez, última vez)
Bésame, bésame mucho,
(Coros: Mucho, mucho)
que tengo miedo a perderte, perderte otra vez...
Otra vez, otra vez!
Bésame, bésame mucho,
(Coros: Mucho, mucho)
como si fuera esta tarde la última vez...
(Coros: Vez, vez, última vez)
Bésame, bésame mucho,
(Coros: Mucho, mucho, mucho)
que tengo miedo a perderte, perderte otra vez...
Bésame, bésame mucho,
(Coros: Mucho, mucho)
como si fuera esta tarde la última vez...
(Coros: Vez, vez, última vez)
Bésame, bésame mucho,
(Coros: Nada, nada, nada)
que tengo miedo a perderte, perderte otra vez...
No va más, no va más!
Aguardiente Swing Quartet
OH YEAH BABY!
^^
Saturday, 22 November 2008
How come I can walk at all?
^^
This is gonna be fun. This *somebody that I used to know* is gonna like this. Not in a sadistic kind of way, but he loves being brought up some now and then. Yes, rubito, it's *you*, it *had* to be you, you love it when I bump my head or fall off my chair so you've got a reason to patronise me and pretend to be cool. That's not cool. That's childish. And get out of my head, by the way, I just *hate* it when I hurt myself *because I'm worth it* and you suddenly pop into my head, frowning and pointing your finger at me. Get out. Let me break as many legs as I have (three), they're mine to swim farther than reality, broken or not, and I know about broken stuff, trust me. So get out. Gently. Or not. I don't even like you. I hate your guts.
"I was a fool to fall and get that way..."
As Ella, or Nacho, would put it.
Yeah, I fell and got that way. The *Hey, is this a step?* way.
No problem, though. I'm alive enough to be posting this and apart from that, purple suits me.
And I don't hate your guts. I am fond of you.
^^
This is gonna be fun. This *somebody that I used to know* is gonna like this. Not in a sadistic kind of way, but he loves being brought up some now and then. Yes, rubito, it's *you*, it *had* to be you, you love it when I bump my head or fall off my chair so you've got a reason to patronise me and pretend to be cool. That's not cool. That's childish. And get out of my head, by the way, I just *hate* it when I hurt myself *because I'm worth it* and you suddenly pop into my head, frowning and pointing your finger at me. Get out. Let me break as many legs as I have (three), they're mine to swim farther than reality, broken or not, and I know about broken stuff, trust me. So get out. Gently. Or not. I don't even like you. I hate your guts.
* * *
"I was a fool to fall and get that way..."
As Ella, or Nacho, would put it.
Yeah, I fell and got that way. The *Hey, is this a step?* way.
No problem, though. I'm alive enough to be posting this and apart from that, purple suits me.
And I don't hate your guts. I am fond of you.
^^
Wednesday, 19 November 2008
Pros and cons of being banned from Fotolog
^^
As a matter of fact, I can only see the half-full-bottle side of it.
It allows me to post my favourite pics and texts anew :D
Frinstans:
As a matter of fact, I can only see the half-full-bottle side of it.
It allows me to post my favourite pics and texts anew :D
Frinstans:
"Headache"
(((And there's no reason why I can't create my own fotolog yet again - well not exactly my very own, but yes in a sense. Introducing Djangology - How aguardentoholic can you get? xDxDxD)))
^^
(((And there's no reason why I can't create my own fotolog yet again - well not exactly my very own, but yes in a sense. Introducing Djangology - How aguardentoholic can you get? xDxDxD)))
^^
Monday, 17 November 2008
The best is yet to come!
^^
Ya os lo decía yo... Si es que no me canso de repetirlo...
Go, go, gadget legs!
^^
Ya os lo decía yo... Si es que no me canso de repetirlo...
Go, go, gadget legs!
^^
Monday, 10 November 2008
Conversation Piece LXXIV
^^
"Sarcasm is just one more service we offer."
- Perdone, el ossobuco ¿lleva menta?
- Hmmm, no.
- Y... ¿lleva canela?
- Hmmm, no.
- Y entonces, ¿qué lleva?
- Lleva salsa de setas, pimientos asados e higos zoupeiros.
- Este sitio se debería llamar "Higos y Setas", pero en fin, tomaré uno de ésos. Y discúlpeme, es que soy crítica.
- ¿Gastronómica?
- No, no, como adjetivo y como ser humano.
(Location: Restaurante Menta y Canela).
^^
"Sarcasm is just one more service we offer."
- Perdone, el ossobuco ¿lleva menta?
- Hmmm, no.
- Y... ¿lleva canela?
- Hmmm, no.
- Y entonces, ¿qué lleva?
- Lleva salsa de setas, pimientos asados e higos zoupeiros.
- Este sitio se debería llamar "Higos y Setas", pero en fin, tomaré uno de ésos. Y discúlpeme, es que soy crítica.
- ¿Gastronómica?
- No, no, como adjetivo y como ser humano.
(Location: Restaurante Menta y Canela).
^^
Thursday, 6 November 2008
La fiera corrupia
^^
Cuando me tomes en serio te reirás.
(Mucho, mucho...)
Pero antes tendrás que mirarme a los ojos.
^^
Cuando me tomes en serio te reirás.
(Mucho, mucho...)
Pero antes tendrás que mirarme a los ojos.
^^
Wednesday, 5 November 2008
No quiero hablar de Pableras... #2
^^
... pero hablo.
Por los codos y por el resto de mis articulaciones.
Por Tutatis y polagloria de Yves Rocher.
Por lo mucho que vale la pena.
Porque es mi derecho como ex y como ser humano.
Porque encima es para bien.
Y porque, gilipolleces las justas, siempre fue mi complemento directo.
Aunque Teté se ponga triste.
THERE WAS ONCE... A CONVERSATION PIECE
- Y ¿qué pasará cuando me venga la regla y me duela la tripa y me enfurruñe?
- Te haré té.
*Casi* todo el tiempo me alegro de *haber* vivido.
^^
... pero hablo.
Por los codos y por el resto de mis articulaciones.
Por Tutatis y polagloria de Yves Rocher.
Por lo mucho que vale la pena.
Porque es mi derecho como ex y como ser humano.
Porque encima es para bien.
Y porque, gilipolleces las justas, siempre fue mi complemento directo.
Aunque Teté se ponga triste.
THERE WAS ONCE... A CONVERSATION PIECE
- Y ¿qué pasará cuando me venga la regla y me duela la tripa y me enfurruñe?
- Te haré té.
*Casi* todo el tiempo me alegro de *haber* vivido.
^^
Ten years from now...
^^
There will be hundreds of boys called Barack and thousands of girls called Obama.
While McCain will still be fake chips.
I know I'm gonna go to hell, I'm determined to go there for a reason and a cause.
^^
There will be hundreds of boys called Barack and thousands of girls called Obama.
While McCain will still be fake chips.
I know I'm gonna go to hell, I'm determined to go there for a reason and a cause.
^^
Fiction #3
^^
Cuando mis guiones imaginarios me voltean, recurro al recuerdo, a la hipérbole, a la rima, a la aliteración, al oxímoron, a la ironía, a la improvisación y a la enumeración, por ese orden, en nombre de César Cabezas, que lo vi el otro día y está tupendo tupendo :D
Nada de lo que *leas* está basado en hechos reales. Bases fuera. Hiperrealismo puro y duro. This is what comes from typing. (1)
Phoebe llegó a mi casa y a mi vida un día de noviembre...
... menos mal que vino.
(1) En inglés en el original.
^^
"¿No deseado? ¿Cómo que no deseado?
No te buscamos, cariño, eso es cierto,
pero menos mal que viniste..."
* * *
No te buscamos, cariño, eso es cierto,
pero menos mal que viniste..."
* * *
Cuando mis guiones imaginarios me voltean, recurro al recuerdo, a la hipérbole, a la rima, a la aliteración, al oxímoron, a la ironía, a la improvisación y a la enumeración, por ese orden, en nombre de César Cabezas, que lo vi el otro día y está tupendo tupendo :D
Nada de lo que *leas* está basado en hechos reales. Bases fuera. Hiperrealismo puro y duro. This is what comes from typing. (1)
Phoebe llegó a mi casa y a mi vida un día de noviembre...
... menos mal que vino.
(1) En inglés en el original.
^^
Monday, 3 November 2008
Few people know... #1
^^
I'm almost Canadian.
In 1975 my dad was offered two jobs, one in Québec (to think I would speak fluent French now...) and one in Palencia, commonplace Spain.
Lee will probably find this funny. Weird, even.
I do.
(How unoriginal to use your real name, sorry. How hyperreal can I get?)
^^
I'm almost Canadian.
In 1975 my dad was offered two jobs, one in Québec (to think I would speak fluent French now...) and one in Palencia, commonplace Spain.
Lee will probably find this funny. Weird, even.
I do.
(How unoriginal to use your real name, sorry. How hyperreal can I get?)
^^
No quiero hablar de Pableras... #1
¬¬
... porque Teté se pone triste.
Pero estaba volteando esto...
... porque Teté se pone triste.
Pero estaba volteando esto...
I never really had a problem because of leaving,
But everything reminds me of her this evening.
So if I seem a little out of it, sorry.
But why should I lie?
Everything reminds me of her.
The spin of the earth impaled a silhouette of the sun on the steeple,
And I got to hear the same sermon all the time now from you people.
Why are you staring into outer space, crying?
Just because you came across it, and lost it...
Everything reminds me of her...
Everything reminds me of her...
Everything reminds me of her...
But everything reminds me of her this evening.
So if I seem a little out of it, sorry.
But why should I lie?
Everything reminds me of her.
The spin of the earth impaled a silhouette of the sun on the steeple,
And I got to hear the same sermon all the time now from you people.
Why are you staring into outer space, crying?
Just because you came across it, and lost it...
Everything reminds me of her...
Everything reminds me of her...
Everything reminds me of her...
¬¬
Yo también me pongo triste.
Yo también me pongo triste.
Sunday, 2 November 2008
Somebody that I used to know
^^
He asked you to let him speak first. You said ok, as long as you could tell him a couple of things later. You know him pretty well, it doesn't matter how important what you have to say is, if he needs to tell you something, he's all for words and against ears, so your best advice is hold his hand and wait till he's done.
Once he's done, tell him it's a real relief to get to hear him say *so* live, and beg for audience and for pete's sake... xD
Granted. Still holding his hand? Good. Better if it's warm.
Warm can't be bad.
You wish you could tell him how little your physical self needs this, how utterly fed up you are with *selfish* demands and *unasked-for* advice, but you also think it feels good, his warm hand feels good. You just said you were sorry you hurt him one percent of the time, which is a very small number, growing smaller every day you wish him well, and you really don't want it growing larger, and still nobody knows how much you've missed this, not even you, and his hand feels really warm and good. You don't want to spoil it, but it kind of burns, you guess you're tough enough to take *this one* as well. You let go. You don't complain. You *never* complain.
You are ninenty-nine percent perfect, you've always been, but the silly dick with the warm hand is *just* not *in* right now. Don't blame him. No-one is. You know that, no matter how well you try to conceal it.
Warm is not bad.
But you want best. You've had best, so you want it from knowledge, and dire need, and craving. You once thought "I can't afford this kind of luck", and you were right, you couldn't. So you just let go.
Someone once talked you into never taking second best. You never did. You've got wings. You glow in the dark.
He's just somebody that you used to know.
^^
He asked you to let him speak first. You said ok, as long as you could tell him a couple of things later. You know him pretty well, it doesn't matter how important what you have to say is, if he needs to tell you something, he's all for words and against ears, so your best advice is hold his hand and wait till he's done.
Once he's done, tell him it's a real relief to get to hear him say *so* live, and beg for audience and for pete's sake... xD
Granted. Still holding his hand? Good. Better if it's warm.
Warm can't be bad.
You wish you could tell him how little your physical self needs this, how utterly fed up you are with *selfish* demands and *unasked-for* advice, but you also think it feels good, his warm hand feels good. You just said you were sorry you hurt him one percent of the time, which is a very small number, growing smaller every day you wish him well, and you really don't want it growing larger, and still nobody knows how much you've missed this, not even you, and his hand feels really warm and good. You don't want to spoil it, but it kind of burns, you guess you're tough enough to take *this one* as well. You let go. You don't complain. You *never* complain.
You are ninenty-nine percent perfect, you've always been, but the silly dick with the warm hand is *just* not *in* right now. Don't blame him. No-one is. You know that, no matter how well you try to conceal it.
Warm is not bad.
But you want best. You've had best, so you want it from knowledge, and dire need, and craving. You once thought "I can't afford this kind of luck", and you were right, you couldn't. So you just let go.
Someone once talked you into never taking second best. You never did. You've got wings. You glow in the dark.
He's just somebody that you used to know.
^^
But not for me...
They're writing songs of love
But not for me.
A lucky star's above
But not for me.
A lucky star's above
But not for me.
With love to lead the way
I've found more clouds of gray
Than any Russian play
Could guarantee.
I was a fool to fall
And get that way
Heigh ho alas and
Also lackaday.
Although I can't dismiss
The memory of his kiss
I guess he's not for me.
I know that love's a game
I'm puzzled all the same
Was I the moth or flame
I'm all at sea.
It all began so well
But what an end.
This is the time
a fella' needs a friend.
When every happy plot
Ends with a marriage knot
And there's no knot for me.
Ella
I've found more clouds of gray
Than any Russian play
Could guarantee.
I was a fool to fall
And get that way
Heigh ho alas and
Also lackaday.
Although I can't dismiss
The memory of his kiss
I guess he's not for me.
I know that love's a game
I'm puzzled all the same
Was I the moth or flame
I'm all at sea.
It all began so well
But what an end.
This is the time
a fella' needs a friend.
When every happy plot
Ends with a marriage knot
And there's no knot for me.
Ella
Cosas que se oyen de pasada aka Overhearing #2
"¿Quién es ella?"
"Who is she?"
(A. Hernández)
"Who is she?"
(A. Hernández)
This is disturbing on so many levels...
^^
Go, go, gadget legs!
^^
I feel *slightly* better.
Yesterday was such a downer!
What can you expect from the day after, anyway?
I was ground zero; absolutely worn-out, hungover, numb and sad. I insist it's not enough. A lifetime of it wouldn't be enough. But it's so good that some of it is much, much better than none of it, and none of it can't be worse than the day after some of it.
Do I make myself clear? :)
Thing is I feel better now. I'm not tired or hungover anymore, and I guess I can cope with sadness. As a matter of fact, I can beat it to pulp, and that's what I'm gonna do, starting now. I must take real good care of myself if I want to live long enough to be at the next gig, and the one after that one, and the one after 909... The best is yet to come.
Go, go, gadget legs!
^^
I feel *slightly* better.
Yesterday was such a downer!
What can you expect from the day after, anyway?
I was ground zero; absolutely worn-out, hungover, numb and sad. I insist it's not enough. A lifetime of it wouldn't be enough. But it's so good that some of it is much, much better than none of it, and none of it can't be worse than the day after some of it.
Do I make myself clear? :)
Thing is I feel better now. I'm not tired or hungover anymore, and I guess I can cope with sadness. As a matter of fact, I can beat it to pulp, and that's what I'm gonna do, starting now. I must take real good care of myself if I want to live long enough to be at the next gig, and the one after that one, and the one after 909... The best is yet to come.
Go, go, gadget legs!
^^
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