Tuesday, February 17, 2009

When Can Fluttering Be Felt

mastranto and champagne

Boquete
come. I had the privilege of staying at the home of zinc and cardboard owned by a partner who has not yet reached the opportunities. banquet dinner was rice, sausage and lentils. there was no coffee for breakfast, but as nature always gives everything he has until it's "sir" fuck slogan or damage, we take a delicious tea mastranto.

the site was clean and mostly decent, with the comforts and constraints of those who live in our work and not others, speculation or political demagoguery income (if you just think about Martinelli or Balbina, and especially if you plan to throw your vote, your time and dignity with them, it is not my fault) I talked

well, we have learned and projects. I have no complaints.

good, I have a couple ... not to bore you. Many of the mountains which form the environment have been "developed" in neighborhoods without a stick, resorts and white houses gringoscanadienseseuropeosaustralianos (is there a difference if those who are?) that after fucking assholes from their country the world now endure and it look fucking nice weather retreats climate on the road, and we live and live as a collateral of the process.

there uptown local houses, inhabited by beings of such low esteem that require cultural blend with above for once and for all access to the realm where you do not know which is the juice, but the champagne. I've also seen

cajetas sufficient cement sides, with such bad taste and disorientation that made me feel in this city that "progress" at home. it is so much destruction in the progress and development so much inequality in both myths should be abolished and use the criminal conviction.

but I talked well, we have learned and projects. still struggling.