Dear Good @ s readers, as we said yesterday we will talk about a new subject which surely nobody has ever written anything "The Burial of the Sardine" that as its name implies each year is more like a funeral.
Yes hated this intimate friends "parade" every year ... how could you say more miserable ?...¿ ?...¿ be more abstract?; Good as the Duchess of Alba Ballet dancing Rafa of Fame , a grotesque go.
We
parts, I understand that those who have to leave the parade a bit acojonaos have to go because they know that over a few kilometers you'll encounter a pack of children who can disembowel pa mother you give a giant plastic bag or a doll Ikea has to be traumatic at least. I imagine the head before the start of the parade watching his troops, saying "Have no mercy, no pity because you have to!, Your names now will be enrolled in Valhalla beside the Gods . Muerteeeeeeee! ".
course this when you're dressed as a warrior of Gondor must molar, but when you dress rasta asshole with a beard and a Porret between the teeth as missing credibility. With those pints and a harlequin plaid suit which Italian but with more garish colors that can detect the visible spectrum does not inspire affection, but shame. I guess your friends ask "sales at the funeral?," Dress of what? "" well ... pa what I'm going to deceive asshole "" and hand out something? "" because as a kid approaches such as bread wafers.
Then we went to the big heads, these do give joy to a parade ... a parade of tuna in marinade. You see them grabbing the edge of the head, which has to be iron, because they were stuck in the chest, that I say that if you are over 20 years these heads and they could have put a bit of foam for mercy. Now as you see them spend talking to from them and people think "Fuck it, if not dance or anything!".
Pensao I have it, next year we take the Pelops, Mario-san the Whitey, the Red , Chinogato and I dressed in an asshole, and when we play football, and we get in the middle of the parade kicking the ball is sure to entertain more.
Thing are the bands apart. Recipe: 10 individuals were caught to know "play" and some wind instruments to give hosts the hype. They are given 14 Cubalibre and teach them to "touch" the best hits, namely
- The venao .
- you stop .
- Torero.
- The venao (I know I've put 2 times, but each time he came was a brass band playing the Double so it's worth).
To add a touch of color are invited to brass bands from other countries:
"Some Africans who were playing the typical march of the cannibals before dinner and people looking at him with eyes golositos.
"Some Japanese who laughed until the clarinet in his mouth (no pun intended sexual), joer is greeted to the families who were behind!.
And before the final fireworks majorettes, with the passage of Percheron horses. If we could get into his mind certainly heard a cricket in the middle of the night-cri cri cri cri-cri-cri.
With the flick of the wrist with a stick in hand ... I was thinking that screwing machines have to be pigs!.
Finally the final fireworks THE BRASILEÑAAAAAAAAASSSSS . Hehehe, I know of parents who travel miles with their child, not to watch the parade, not to get toys, but to watch the famous Brazilian weaning. I'm saying that if it is to see boobs that puts the cryo a movie of Maribel Verdú a teat out safe and with little luck some of the bangs down as well. Poor
Brazilian, the same from 64, with dentures, orthopedic hip, a wheelchair and dropper. The new insurance are coming from Brazil , ha ha. I see the parade encargao telling the driver "Julian take me behind the Eroski infant or a roundabout on the outskirts to find " Brazilian " and hopefully we tried the genre before the parade" .
Well fine, so far the first part. In the second part will discuss the toys and floats will look to the few people who have succeeded have used toys after their children.
A hug to everyone and until we read.
Signed
.: Black-poisoned .
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