La Vida Dura
Lo primero que hay que saber es que yo estoy aquí porque alguien me ha dado dinero.

Bruja! Archive  Submit  Info 
+ 483 notes

(Source: phl0x, via imgfave)


The TRUTH: they are terrible Rulers



Total amateurs.  Not a terracycle has yet passed from the Money-Coup and Isthmus City has ground to a complete standstill.  No water service.  No garbage pickup. No traffic relief.



They have failed to meet the most basic duties of a ruling class and this is why we must act!



Meet tonight, Samsons Supermarkets
After Dark


Rev
+ 2 notes

The TRUTH: they are terrible Rulers

Total amateurs. Not a terracycle has yet passed from the Money-Coup and Isthmus City has ground to a complete standstill. No water service. No garbage pickup. No traffic relief.


They have failed to meet the most basic duties of a ruling class and this is why we must act!


Meet tonight, Samsons Supermarkets After Dark


Rev



Liberals Think They’re More Intelligent Than Conservatives Because They Are  More intelligent individuals are more likely to espouse the value of liberalism than less intelligent individuals, because liberalism is evolutionarily novel and conservatism is evolutionarily familiar.
+ 4 notes

Liberals Think They’re More Intelligent Than Conservatives Because They Are
More intelligent individuals are more likely to espouse the value of liberalism than less intelligent individuals, because liberalism is evolutionarily novel and conservatism is evolutionarily familiar.


The New Inquiry:



Few things are sadder than the truly monstrous.


(via mebbee)
+ 7 notes

The New Inquiry:

Few things are sadder than the truly monstrous.

(via mebbee)


»BIZ  Canibalismo Fashion: sobre oferta de modelos

Se puede encontrar talento que cobra hasta 10 dólares por hora. “Estos precios son irrisorios. Con esos 10 dólares la chica tiene que pagarse el taxi y el secado del cabello. Prácticamente no le viene quedando nada de dinero”, comenta Tania Hyman.
+ 1 note

»BIZ Canibalismo Fashion: sobre oferta de modelos

Se puede encontrar talento que cobra hasta 10 dólares por hora. “Estos precios son irrisorios. Con esos 10 dólares la chica tiene que pagarse el taxi y el secado del cabello. Prácticamente no le viene quedando nada de dinero”, comenta Tania Hyman.


Bruja!
+ 1 note

Bruja!



the first time she fell in love… hah, that’s a good one.

although, i’m pretty sure i’ve told this one before, maybe in this very room.

to this very audience.

so… she was a student, and the school is beautiful: palm trees and green lawns stretching out to infinity.  everything’s beautiful here, the golden hair, the perfectly white smiles, the muscles, especially the muscles.

we’ll update this story as you mature, but for now, just put the muscles in the backburner, ok?  This will be important later on.

Everyone’s beautiful -even the help- and she alone stands out.  Not ugly, exactly, but definitely exotic.

'what is you?'  they ask her.

she has no response to this.

'what's your mix?'

'im not an effing poodle' she thinks, but she can never quite pronounce the words right, so she keeps it in her head.

the truth is she didn’t know what she is, and she only has the vaguest of notions of the compositions of her mix.

why are some tribes never satisfied with a word like ‘mut’?

why must they need to know which precise degree of mut?

in any case, the dormitories are a sight to behold, every inch scrubbed to an inch of its life, gleaming chrome and polished glass.

And that’s where she meets him -in her underwear, slice of pizza in one hand, trashbag in the other.

'doesnt that gross you out?' he asks

'whatya mean' she says, spitting out little spittles of pizza

'isnt that… unsanitary.  do you ever see trashguys eating while they work?'

'whadde-ef, are you calling me trash?'

'no, listen -can you lose the iPlugs?'

'do you think it's a good idea -from a purely healthcare perspective- to eat yummy pepperoni with one hand and dispose of chemical waste with the other?'

[beat]

'you want some?'

[sound of chewing]

and they were inseparable, and it was a mess, and that’s a chapter we continue tomorrow.

[beat]

no, im serious, now.  You already know the story by heart anyway -just continue it yourself as you go to sleep.

but sleep now.

make your own dreams, for a change.
+ 321 notes

the first time she fell in love… hah, that’s a good one.

although, i’m pretty sure i’ve told this one before, maybe in this very room.

to this very audience.

so… she was a student, and the school is beautiful: palm trees and green lawns stretching out to infinity. everything’s beautiful here, the golden hair, the perfectly white smiles, the muscles, especially the muscles.

we’ll update this story as you mature, but for now, just put the muscles in the backburner, ok? This will be important later on.

Everyone’s beautiful -even the help- and she alone stands out. Not ugly, exactly, but definitely exotic.

'what is you?' they ask her.

she has no response to this.

'what's your mix?'

'im not an effing poodle' she thinks, but she can never quite pronounce the words right, so she keeps it in her head.

the truth is she didn’t know what she is, and she only has the vaguest of notions of the compositions of her mix.

why are some tribes never satisfied with a word like ‘mut’?

why must they need to know which precise degree of mut?

in any case, the dormitories are a sight to behold, every inch scrubbed to an inch of its life, gleaming chrome and polished glass.

And that’s where she meets him -in her underwear, slice of pizza in one hand, trashbag in the other.

'doesnt that gross you out?' he asks

'whatya mean' she says, spitting out little spittles of pizza

'isnt that… unsanitary. do you ever see trashguys eating while they work?'

'whadde-ef, are you calling me trash?'

'no, listen -can you lose the iPlugs?'

'do you think it's a good idea -from a purely healthcare perspective- to eat yummy pepperoni with one hand and dispose of chemical waste with the other?'

[beat]

'you want some?'

[sound of chewing]

and they were inseparable, and it was a mess, and that’s a chapter we continue tomorrow.

[beat]

no, im serious, now. You already know the story by heart anyway -just continue it yourself as you go to sleep.

but sleep now.

make your own dreams, for a change.



Friendship is the shadow of the evening, which increases with the setting sun of life

— Jean de La Fontaine (via kari-shma)

Nunca he conocido un buen gobierno.  Admito que me falla la memoria de vez en cuando y de cuando en vez, pero hasta donde yo recuerde todos han sido mentirosos, ladrones, inmorales, y esos son los mejorcitos.  Los peores, de esos no quiero ni hablar.

Tambien admito que, en mi humilde opinión de nación y ciudadana, los malos gobiernos suceden porque la gente es bruta de nacimiento y mala de crianza.

Un buen gobierno tendría un gabinete repleto de abuelas que son las unicas personas verdaderante buenas que quedan.  Pero el día que tu abuela se tire a presidente y gane, y esos viejos metiches y necios la dejen gobernar -ese mismo día dejo de llamarme Elena.

Es el año dos mil nueve despues de Jesucristo, y en el Istmo se celebra un carnaval largo y costoso que llega sin falta cada cinco revoluciones. 

Los de turno entretienen a la gente con teatro y papeletas y vallas publicitarias,  mientras fluye una corriente ininterrumpida de noticias de último minuto.   Sin el carnaval anunciándose a cada quinto de hora, quedaría mucho tiempo vacio en la tele; no pueden seguir repitiendo esas películas gringas ochenteras todos los dias, que aburrimiento.

Se requiere diversión.

Se prefiere bochinche.

Así la gente se mantiene entretenida y sumisa mientras los de turno aprueban anteproyecto tras anteproyecto, saquiándolo todo descaradamente, en tu propia cara.   Los reporteros embelezados con el carnaval, con las lágrimas y el drama, los mártires, las estrategias, las trágedias y los reveses de telenovela, ni cuenta se dan. 

Y cae el telón con la nación en exactamente las mismas circunstancias en las que se encontraba antes que comenzara el show:  tres millones de esclavos de un manojo de familias latifundistas; un ghetto pequeño pero lindo, donde los ricos mandan, los pobres obedecen, y el clima nunca sale de la temporada de calor y aguaceros.

Ahora no queda mas nada que hacer que quejarse del nuevo gobierno, y esperar la próxima oportunidad para tener un cambio.  No importa que no sea democrático, seamos honestos por primera vez en nuestras perras vidas, mi corazoncito.

Lo que nos gusta es cambiar.


la vida dura


6:49:09 AM revulú: y si tu piensas en colon
6:49:12 AM revulú: como el ghetto
6:49:23 AM revulú: como una provincia marginada
6:49:32 AM revulú: quizas debes empezar a ver a colon
6:49:34 AM revulú: como el futuro
6:49:52 AM revulú: vamos hacia alla
6:50:09 AM revulú: nuestro pais
6:50:16 AM revulú: es un amigo lambon
6:50:17 AM revulú: del niño mas rico del planeta
6:50:25 AM revulú: lo hemos sido los cien años de republica
6:50:40 AM revulú: y ahora resulta que el amigo rico
6:51:00 AM revulú: no tiene plata
6:51:03 AM revulú: le debe a todo el mundo
6:51:09 AM revulú: y si su riqueza es ilusion
6:51:37 AM revulú: entonces nuestra riqueza de manzanillos
6:51:48 AM revulú: es una ilusion de una ilusion
6:51:53 AM LILA: que panorama más tétrico me pintas
6:52:13 AM LILA: hay que darle  a la gente una luz de esperanza

————