Capsaicin; Sangre; Lucha; Heart Fire; Fiel
Weird stuff to dispense of, but first, I got my blood sucked yesterday by one Dr. C. Jimenez, feigning nurturer of the vein. Don't be fooled by his gentle tactics, his aim is directly arterial. Hematocrit and hemoglobin fiend, I will be back with vengence and a sample of my pee on your desktop. Yes.
As for the weird stuff, I tried listing them in bullet format, but at least for this case, I stand by my aesthetics to set forth what's past in paragraph form.
Alejandro Angeles Armenta and I were deeply midst a blood-and-guts game of Spanish Scrabble when we heard a harsh gagging noise in the kitchen. Arthur (Chico Y) was choking on regurgitated chilli, upon which Martha had attempted to remedy with lemoned water. The influx of acid made things worse, and Y's neck turned rapidly flaming bright red, and p'rhaps reaching size of an inflated giant squid. (This is only a guesstimate.) Alejandro heard the call for help and embraced Y's swollen torso to tightly maneuver the liquifire out from his pulsating ribs. I was really impressed by the lightening speed of Alejandro's reaction, and this he attributed to the thought of his choking nephew's death recently in Mexico. This endeared to me mainly because Y and Alejandro were for a while archenemies, and with this wordless affair, things have been amended for good.
Two days ago Martha straight up stole a fully ripe persimmon from Sam's Club for me. She must have remembered my contorted face, as I bit into an astringent unripe one on previous occasion. So I really appreciated the thought and gesture, and the fact that she knows me too well. We watched the finale of Amarte es Mi Pecado together, and were both affected severely by its ending. Spanish novela of all novelas, I will remember you best of all. Especially when Casilda put on the mask, and did sleep with an older man, also masked, and erroneously thought to be the love of her life, Leonardo, but in actuality, was just an old pervy man.
My best friend and I have pretty much not kept in touch for the better part of this month, and this is putting me in a very sad place. I wish there were names for such places. If I were to make one up for this situation, the name I would give it is 'I Love and Miss My Best Friends'.
Another strange happening lately is that, apart from missing my friends, I am pretty much satisfied with my life right now. I have to be honest though. I can say this only because I am certain that I am loved. I am certain of this because when I socked him on the butt, he didn't hesitate to throw me down and bite my back with grinding force.
Iron and Wine and The Arcade Fire are to perform on the very same day, and do you know, it is the day before I leave for the P. Islands. What the Heckfire am I going to do?
As for the weird stuff, I tried listing them in bullet format, but at least for this case, I stand by my aesthetics to set forth what's past in paragraph form.
Alejandro Angeles Armenta and I were deeply midst a blood-and-guts game of Spanish Scrabble when we heard a harsh gagging noise in the kitchen. Arthur (Chico Y) was choking on regurgitated chilli, upon which Martha had attempted to remedy with lemoned water. The influx of acid made things worse, and Y's neck turned rapidly flaming bright red, and p'rhaps reaching size of an inflated giant squid. (This is only a guesstimate.) Alejandro heard the call for help and embraced Y's swollen torso to tightly maneuver the liquifire out from his pulsating ribs. I was really impressed by the lightening speed of Alejandro's reaction, and this he attributed to the thought of his choking nephew's death recently in Mexico. This endeared to me mainly because Y and Alejandro were for a while archenemies, and with this wordless affair, things have been amended for good.
Two days ago Martha straight up stole a fully ripe persimmon from Sam's Club for me. She must have remembered my contorted face, as I bit into an astringent unripe one on previous occasion. So I really appreciated the thought and gesture, and the fact that she knows me too well. We watched the finale of Amarte es Mi Pecado together, and were both affected severely by its ending. Spanish novela of all novelas, I will remember you best of all. Especially when Casilda put on the mask, and did sleep with an older man, also masked, and erroneously thought to be the love of her life, Leonardo, but in actuality, was just an old pervy man.
My best friend and I have pretty much not kept in touch for the better part of this month, and this is putting me in a very sad place. I wish there were names for such places. If I were to make one up for this situation, the name I would give it is 'I Love and Miss My Best Friends'.
Another strange happening lately is that, apart from missing my friends, I am pretty much satisfied with my life right now. I have to be honest though. I can say this only because I am certain that I am loved. I am certain of this because when I socked him on the butt, he didn't hesitate to throw me down and bite my back with grinding force.
Iron and Wine and The Arcade Fire are to perform on the very same day, and do you know, it is the day before I leave for the P. Islands. What the Heckfire am I going to do?