Knock-knock

As usual, it is already late and I push myself to write something, instead of pushing to go to bed. Well, that I will do tomorrow morning, push my self up. So, What can it be to speak about? Mmmmm, there are just to many stupid appreciations to leave here, do not know what to choose. Besides... I was going to say that those comments would be more proper for intimate conversations at the end of the day, but it might be awkward to find your partner in such digressions before going to Nap Land. (I am not sure what direction this blog is taken...). Ok, I will just keep writing, see if the 21-day rule works*.

Well, today I had a beer in the same pub as that I was in on Saturday (where the fox hunters go), right at 6 pm, was bloody cold in London and snowing, and not even one woman _oh, boy, this is becoming a bothersome routine; I took the bus, but drop me in Archway, so I grab the next one and did not pay again for it; I read a friend's borrowed book by Paul Turnier and kind of got cold feet, so you can see our friendship is solid-based. Nevertheless, when I pass on the Westminster Bridge along with some visitor, I know I will tell the story of Boadicea's regarding Boadicea's statue, so I am gaining control over my future actions, a tiny bite to fate's pool of despotism.

What else? In one week, I have seen disturbances provoked by youngsters, chronologically, in London, Rome and Greece, which is another bothersome routine; I tasted again today what bad education is made of; I read last summer Mentiras de Mujeres, by Lyudmila Ulitskaya: Men tend to lie in singular occasions and there is always an objective, but Women lie for no reason and continuously, just lie; I have, however, encounter that Men must find attractive to lie in a very feminine way because some lie just as they breath. It is part of bad education; I find the animal heritage rooted deeply in our bowels. From there, it entreats entrance _Bad education flings wide open the doors to the primitive states of man convivial where all these Gryphons dwell: aggression, untruth and unfaithfulness, selfishness, anxiety.

I read that Black Edwards passed away, which was something about to happen, because Edwards had already received his honorific awards from Cinema Academia. I learn how is the face of Judy Dench or, better, what the name of Judy Dench's face is _Oh, she was so different in the 1970s when doing The Dream of a Midnight's Summer Night! I enjoyed so much the Royal Shakespeare Company's adaptation for Salamanca 2002 in El Liceo; I listened to Martina McBride's In My Daughter's Eyes from an acquaintance who happens to be single mother: never paid attention to the lyrics; Well, McBride has recorded something with The Chieftains, I just noticed; Nice punch I find in Gone, gone, gone, sung by Robert Plant and Alison Krauss; she is too sexy, liquidizer, do you think not? There is this visiting student from Greece who looks to me like Marlee Matlin 30 years ago, same frames and all, and this other student, Chinese-originally, I would say, quite a character. They both went in a funny disagreement and  it came to me: Hm, cat fight!

The piece of news shaking the house was, though, Miley Cirus salvia bong thing. The occurrence pushed Michael Logham to offer fatherly advice to Billy Ray Cyrus, which is another occurrence: an one-eyed man leading the land of the blind.

I have something to say here...I leave it for tomorrow.... Now! Get your ass in bed, dear Albert!

*21-day rule: I heard that anytime you start a new activity, you need 21 days of continuity to have it become a habit. A nonsense.
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(Knock-knock... Is anyone there?)