








No man is an island



También me tomé la libertad de enviarte el nuevo proyecto de Alex Turner de los Arctic Monkeys y Miles Kanes de The Rascals: The Last Shadow Puppets. Salvo tu mejor opinión, se me hizo un excelente ejercicio de pop británico, muy emparentado con algunas de las cosas que hace Jarvis Cocker o incluso Richard Hawley, en su onda de revisionista sesentera; dentro de la mejor tradición de Nick Drake o Lee Hazlewood. Qué mamón me escuche, ¿no?
En fin, chécalos.

Sustantivos del fin de semana
Wal Mart. Vino. Taxi. Taxista. Charla. Roma. Cena. Sexo. There Will be Blood. Ejercicio. Sexo. Vanity Fair. Tianguis de las Torres. Taco de cecina con nopales. Corte de pelo. Restaurant Nirvana. Centro. Caminata. Regina. San Jerónimo. Café. Octavo piso. Bellas Artes. Piratería. Sexo. Whiskey. I’m a Cyborg but that’s Ok. Mango. Cereal. 





Q. Why do Mexicans love public restrooms so much? It seems like any one you visit has a minivan-load of Mexicans waiting to get into it. Also, why do Mexicans wipe after a no. 2 and then throw the crappy toilet paper into the trash can rather than flushing it away? So gross! Let's try to put an end to that madness. -- Flushed Out
A. Dear Gabacho: You have just stumbled upon the most surefire way to tell if a Mexican is fresh from the borderor, as Mexicans who have lived in this country for years like to describe them, si tienen un nopal en la frente ("If they have a cactus growing from their forehead")! See, flushing toilets remain a novelty in rural Mexico, so Mexicans new to this country treat public restrooms with the same anticipatory awe Japanese tourists save for Disneylandhence the long lines. Regarding the popó-gunked Charmin: Those precious few ranchos that do have indoor plumbing suffer from inferior pipes installed on the cheap by Mexico's government. Anything heavier than last night's menudo would rupture the sewage system and ruin the rancho's water supply, so used toilet paper must go in the wastebasket. Nopal-wearing Mexicans keep this tradition long after emigrating here, though . . . can you do me a favor, gabacho, and tell nopaleros that here in los Estados Unidos, we're much more sophisticated with our no. 2: we flush it into the ocean.
Desde aquí imagino tu pecho como un cielo estrellado de pecas rosas y dos soles hermosos color rosa pálido. Imagino tu entrepierna como un pastizal en día de tormenta y mi lengua cual caballo galopando sobre ti.




I saw Nine Inch Nails in concert last weekend and the new tracks
sounded a little cliche....
I fear our man Trent may be losing it a little....


