TENEMOS EL RIAL DE LA BLOGESFERA!!
El usuario anónimo dijo...
MrX, es AF, que es tanfuckedup, que es....
ah, y "el chico del blog que sonrie" es Pato!
hay amor????
El usuario anónimo dijo...
The Truth Revealed
el "chico del blog que sonrie" es patrikio.blogspot.com
y MrX, aka Anonnymous Friend, aka...
es tanfuckedup.blogspot.com
Felicitaciones anónimo!! Descubriste lo indescubrible!!! Bien Sherlock!!! Trabajás para el FBI o MI6?
N.del.E: No era tan dificil, MR.X escribió algo de mi en su blog y yo de él en el mío... creo que 2+2 son 4, no? Duhh...
Que onda con el chusmerío, el amarillismo? No hubiese sido más fácil que me preguntes? Yo te contesto, no me chupa decirlo. Eso si, por respeto a el, nunca te hubiese dicho el nombre, si su alias.
No estoy para nada enojado, de hecho todo esto me causa un poco de gracia. Lo que si me molesta es la indecencia, el ir por las espaldas... No me parecen condiciones dignas de un ser humano. Simplmente por eso, anónimo, no me caes bien.
Nada más... compráte una vida.
posted by Patricio W @ 3:13 p. m.
8 comments
8 Comments:
man, no te calientes tanto, es un idiota que no tiene nada mejor que hacer que estudiar detenidamente todas nuestras vidas.
it's quite flattering, i must say.
poné el link de éste chiko así veo de que se trataaaaaaaaaa !!!!
wa wa wiiiiiii wa !
sino borrale los comments y listo, en algunos casos de estupidez manifiesta la censura se torna admisible.
Pues a mí me cogieron de pendejo (Aqui coger de pendejo es otra cosa, es engañar y un pendejo es un mamao, no un chamaco de menos de 20). Felicidades a los dos. Y me alegro porque PTK va a ser una buena influencia en TFU.
Hay un Dios en el cielo, TFU no va a terminar como Eddy y Pats. "It's been a good life, huh Eddy?"
Y de regalo, no hago más posts de TFU con UF.
Those over there.
The yellow ones?
Yeah. I'll take a dozen.
The Andean looking girl wraps them in green cellophane.
Do you know what they mean?
Huh?
Yellow roses, what do they stand for?
Jealousy.
No shit.
Yeah. But nowadays they also mean familiar love and domestic happiness.
Oh. Can you picture me wearing an apron?
Can't say that I do, sir. Happy springtime.
Same to you.
Patrikio pays for the flowers and leaves whistling I've got Sixpence under the evening drizzle. The Colombian girl turns to say "mind the thorns", but by then Patrikio is casting his reflection on a wet sidewalk in some other street.
UF arrived at TFU's apartment for cocktails followed by dinner later that night.
Boss. You are not even dressed yet.
Yes I am.
You don't wear your chinos with blue-striped buttoned down collar oxford and Hush Puppies outside the office. It's nearly nine o'clock and you are lying down on your beanbag looking at the ceiling and... Oh, no. Not again. No, no. We were supposed to go out tonight, boss. Celebrate spring, have a couple cosmopolitans, and if we got lucky, perhaps pick up a couple sailors and watch the sunrise from the balcony of a cheap hotel. We had a plan!
He said he missed me.
He told you?
He wrote it in his blog.
He said he loved you?
He said he thought he was falling for me.
Did he sound needy?
He said and I quote: "I need to hold you, tell you that I like it when we are together, that I'm lonely and being with you makes me happy.
Gaaad! He didn't say his heart skipped a beat, did he?
Nope. But mine did. Start packing.
Boss.
Let's go.
Boss, maybe this is the one.
It's not for me UF. I don't do the relationship thing, remember?
Can we do a little test?
No.
Last time. I promise. Humor me.
Fine.
Take out a pen and a piece of paper.
* Sigh* Done.
Write down how old you were two years ago.
Done.
Your age last year.
Ok.
Now your age for next year followed by your age after that.
Done.
Now fold the paper in half. And in half again. Now open it. Look at it.
Yes?
You are not getting any younger.
TFU hit UF with the crumpled piece of paper with the force of a flying golf ball.
Boss. Just hear me out. Picture it, Buenos Aires 2032: an old and flabby TFU and his loyal friend UF, sit at the bar at Kim y Novak drooling over and lusting after lightfoot young lads who could well be their grandkids. TFU winks at the bartender. As he raises his drink of Johnny Walker Blue seductively, his dentures fall inside the glass, all the way to the bottom, like The Heart of The Ocean into the North Atlantic.
That was unnecessary.
Which part?
The dentures part.
That's what's coming to you. Boss, please listen to me. I've been around the block quite a few times... Okay, maybe not as many times as you have. At least Mileage wise. Although if you add this year's many, many, many, totally unexpected liaisons with... Okay never mind. My point is, and I do have one...
Oh, Do you, Kronk?
Yes, Yzma. You don't send this one back. You don't run away. You stay put. So what? He'll see you at daybreak scratching your balls and with your eyelashes stuck together, so what? He'll discover you sleep with your socks on, have flat pillow hair and bad breath when you wake up in the morning. He'll see your Ralph Laurens and Calvin Kleins with screeching tire skid marks lying about on the bathroom floor, so what?
UF...
He'll soon find out that you can't even boil water and don't bother to clean your cat's litter box for months, so what?
UF...
So he'll find out that you tinker with the bathroom scale so it reads five pound less, big deal. He'll eventually find out that you don't really like the Theater, or even like Westerns, World War II or Gangster movies, and that you hate pop corn because it gets stuck between your teeth, so you are shallow, so what?
TFU slaps him silly.
Ouch! What gives?
Are you on meds? You start with Sophia Petrillo, morph into Beverly Connelly in As Good as it Gets and now you are Lorelei Gilmore? Have you been smelling my underwear again?
UF snaps out of it.
Oh my God, we do really have to pack, don't we?
Yes.
Be right back.
Where the hell you going?
I have to download a few tunes. We are talking major road trip here. We'll need Barbara, Bette, Clay, Barry, Celine, Captain and Tenille and a maybe some Aretha, Gloria Gaynor, and Donna.
No Madonna.
No. Certainly not.
And no ABBA.
Well...
Patrikio doesn't take the bus that night. He loves feeling the cold drizzle on his overmoussed hair. Patrikio grins ear to ear. He just can't seem to wipe the damned smile off his face. As if rigor mortis had set in. His heart is so full that he can't even feel the thorn embedded smack in the middle of the palm of his hand nor the blood dripping out leaving a trail all over Honduras street.
UF got back to TFU's apartment just as he was zipping up his duffel bag.
What are you wearing?
You didn't say where we were going, so I dressed in layers. London Fog trench coat, a Land's End fleece hooded sweatshirt. A Gap vest, Geoffrey Beene basic white shirt, Banana Republic T-shirt, Sassoon Jeans, L.L. Bean Long johns, Fruit of the Loom briefs and a Speedo in case you choose the tropics.
You are a brand whore. Sassoon Jeans?
Found them on E bay. They ride low in the back and accentuate my crotch. Whatdaya think?
I think the Outback hat is a bit too much. Let's roll.
What about Salomon?
Leave him outside. I'll fill his bowl with plenty of Meow Mix. He'll probably go crash at Gugu's anyway. Ready?
TFU and UF locked the door and dashed downstairs. Suddenly, TFU traced back his steps, grabbed Salomon, and held him so tight that the poor pussycat's eyeballs almost bugged out.
Daddy loves you very much. You know that, don't you?
Salomon just stared as his master with his big bored blue yes. His little legs dangling, like a rabbit held by its ears. TFU was totally moved, fighting back the tears. Salomon meowed. I'll translate: "what a moron, why do people think we care? We are not human! Hello, no opposable thumbs!".
Come on, Boss. Stop sucking face with the cat. Cab's waiting downstairs.
Coming. Bye Salomon.
Salomon just went back to his plate of food. UF caught a glimpse of the cat's thought bubble. It read: "Yeah, whatever”.
Patrikio rounds the corner humming Singing in the Rain.
Inside the cab, UF blocked out the entire world with his iPod. The volume was so loud that TFU could hear Tiny Tim's Tiptoe Through the Tulips oozing from the earphones.
TFU asked the cabdriver to turn the radio on.
(Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before)
Who's singing?
(Hurt myself again today)
"Dunno. Some Aussie gal, I think", replied the driver. A big bear of a man who moonlighted as a stripper and who TFU had once met but now failed to remember.
(And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame)
Oh.
Where you heading, mister?
Me? I...
The taxi turned a corner and disappeared. The drizzle turned into a downpour.
Patrikio skips and hops the last steps leading to TFU's door. Salomon raises his stuffed face from the floor, looks at the stranger and coughs out a hairball.
(Be my friend
Hold me, wrap me up)
Patrikio takes a minute to compose himself. He combs his hair with his fingers, straightens his blue and yellow striped tie, dusts off any evidence of dandruff from his beige suit and polishes his two-tone shoes against his pants legs. Salomon walks over.
(Unfold me
I am small
I'm needy)
Patrikio rings the buzzer. He stares at Salomon.
(Warm me up
And breathe me)
Buzzer. Once more. Patrikio feels the thorn in the palm of his hand.
Would you look at that? Huh. Blood.
(Ouch I have lost myself again)
He licks his wound. Salomon licks his paws.
Are you mocking me?
Cat and man look at each other. Then turn straight ahead and face the door.
(Lost myself and I am nowhere to be found,)
Patrikio rings the buzzer again. A yellow petal from one his roses falls to the ground.
(Yeah I think that I might break
I've lost myself again and I feel unsafe)
Another petal.
Buzzer.
And another.
¡Feliz Primavera!
wow
es como Angels in Palermo Hollywood, o algo asi...
a pedido de pato, va la traducción completa con aclaración.
"comprate una vida, loco. no tuvimos todos demasiados comings outs en esta vida? sos blah (es de la película "antes del atardecer" de linklater que me gusta mucho en la que julie delphy le dice a ethan hawke en un taxi: "estoy cansada de relaciones blah" y blah es eso: "sos más de lo mismo, apestás, sos mediocre, casting, aburrido, similar a todos y vulgar") y pelotudo".
gracias pato por la onda!!!
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