is a fact that what one (or one) broken, another (or other) takes advantage. How many times have we eyes widened with relief after a shake Rollet and / or partner that we felt the most firecracker and discover the many volunteers (and / or voluntary) that are provided to stick the small pieces of wreckage happy and to be the nail that kick back?. I myself have collected a few basurillas outside (metaphorically and literally, but with love and respect, yes, the dejante relieved and the new caught, or otherwise) and I myself have made available a few more of the same.
Anyway. The fact is that without me lately and trying, I have been in the position of having to rummage through various wastes from the own-family size, to the industrial size of McDonalds and all the cases I have caught a world of what we pulling. What are the discarded remains underrated! If everything you say, one not known as much for its acts and for its intimate trash! . The first time
review remains as happened to me in my own house, which certainly goes elastic lately, and to my delight, is that it fits everyone. For whatever it says la Caixa, is that if it is true that they normally eat one and a half at this time we fit up to twelve adults for dinner, and where he usually slept one large and one small, can sleep up to three large, one large and one small. My room has become an independent republic which house my sister and my other sister almost Olgui, with its grid via inflatable mattress, with its huge wicker basket brimming with sweets of all kinds, like shopping, that neither the very Little Red Riding Hood (a put) could drag into the house of his grandmother without the help of a trailer and a sign that the vehicle Longo signposted but having my daughter and my cat flying in their environment by living in constant ecstasy. They, with their hours indecent sleep and insomnia-fighting glued to the channel of Big Brother and a stun galore that take them away to extend the Charleta until all hours of the morning. Them with their tiny baby clothes in size 36, which make me look at my other scale. As cielotas them coverage pa 'to.
The fact is that my house has changed its rate elastic, and now we turn to shower, divisions of tasks and fulfillment of the type that when I get home, one finds a rich cooked couscous (and not as cold Tuper standing glued to the counter) and conversation and laughter on the sofa. We also have thousands of boats colorful gel and shampoo, a thousand creams, toothbrushes of all colors and steadily filling bags of trash that goes to a minimum and often overflowing daily.
But in life there are other things that are not so easy to solve and coordinate or provide much satisfaction. One of them is the sharpening eye pencils. These pencils seem to have a single use, because the purchases, use them, you eat the point, and the herds to almost get you eyes. Arriving at this point, you can throw them away. The other option would be to try them out tip is much more desperate, because you put in the razor, you proceed to turn, and before reaching the acceptable length of mine is broken, has been in the sharpener and there is no way remove there, because it seems stuck with loctite. O yes, get out of the cacharrillo after three quarters of an hour and fifteen different tools, and still circling the pinturilla dogged her in the top left inside and eat you in chips. At the end you have to pull the pencil but now the size of an inch and a half, and a sharpener.
However this occurs less expensive pens and brand (because apparently the expensive price included in a previous workshop which teaches them to behave), such as Christian Dior, which come with a highly sophisticated system of sharpener full of little pieces and gadgets that crowd the rebel against the blade and pull out bold tip of cacharrín in the unlikely event that dared to let her inside, and just hold it all burrs. I have only a sharpener of these and I keep it under lock and key and all my love and gratitude, that my child can not commit the terrible and understandable error to use with their wax Manley.
Anyway Puenteros on Thursday last week was almost pulling me the eye with a pencil of the flights, when I decided to take a chance to sharpen. I pulled out of the sharpener sacred box and headed to the trash can proceed, and arregladita and cute, very well aviada to go carousing in case of liquidation of the eye. I opened the lid of the bucket, and running very cleanly I unveiled a fantastic tip. Satisfied, I checked my gem grinder and oh, Lenin! I saw mine and chip remains stuck in the sacred blade. I dropped the pen on the counter and gently proceeded to disarm the utensil cleaner obstinately insisted on not leaving. And with far less delicacy I forced the issue to blow up the gadget in question and all eight achiperris tiny embroidery needle sizes that make up the complex mechanism of the pencil sharpener () which fell without compassion shared between the two stock overflowing garbage, the plastics and metals and organic material (because the matter a little fine penguins at the poles, who neither eat nor are feathers, but nevertheless, recycle). I stood there stunned me until my own tears me out of my own introspection (is that I'm hormonal and I'm being the most sensitive).
I set the bags used and two new ones on my kitchen floor and proceeded to transfer little shit for little shit to give to each of the filthy pieces so you can wash them and overcome them in his house sharpener. In this experience I discovered that my family, drink a huge community house (not me that my medication will not let me), who smoked a huge community (not me that my medication will not let me), we eat muchíííííísimo (of course) and we opened a lot because the bag was full of labels and purchase tickets (I confess that my medication is fully compatible with this deplorable and harmful habit.) I also noticed that nobody is entirely clear if cigarette butts are organic or plastic material and / or metals.
Finally, an hour later, after smelling soap to wash my elbows and my mash well painted, I barreled towards retirement with my girl, my syster with my Olgui and two other girls from the age of Olgui same mine that had been scrounged. The plan was to spend a childhood imbued with the spirit Christmas this time, or what I call a full, puppets and small boats in the Retiro, Mc Donalds and films for children.
But alas! How different plans are when designing to when consumed!. Retirement input was packed, and the tail to mount in small boats came very nearly to Móstoles. So we skip the eating plan and we are carrying pipes a little the next, that of McDonalds. There, after twenty-five tails, the first one to ask basic, another twenty-four to change the Danonino by gelatin, water for Coke with nothing (no calories, no caffeine), to ask for another straw that previous has fallen, ask for more ketchup than what he has given us not come to ask for mustard ... hour and a half later, we put order piling wreckage and debris and more debris on the six trays, ready to travel to many other container. For this you also need experience, technique and have a good strategy. Ours was Olgui with girls, with coats, bags, with bags and covering the rear. I travel with a rate of one per tray and left everything on the table, including my daily newspapers and my cell phone Bisbal. Between the second and third trip girls porphyry crumbled to get permission to go to the pool balls. Between the third and the fourth Olgui leafing sometimes sharp eye to the newspaper, other balls (the pool, to my knowledge), between the fourth and fifth hole was Olgui a lady kindly asked to pose your inbox site and sat eating his hamburger chair. Between the fifth and last Bisbal my phone was gone.
And when it was obvious that I was neither in purse or pocket, either in surroundings that you may hear when my Olgui called me, took what was the most obvious truism: that he had thrown away along the remaining contents of some of the trays.
After queuing across from Mc Donalds at a time twenty-six, I noticed a kind lady who worked there, that by mistake with the remains thousands of our meats, servant, which is tad inattentive, had poured into the container size bag neighboring community, its own mobile phone model Bisbal, and that if did not involve too much trouble , a servant same again, I would very much any effort that would be made in order to recover. The nice young lady smiled at me, I accompanied the size trash bag neighboring community, and smiling even more (if not containing the laughter) I said the bag, and said, "you can look yourself."
There I was, a Thursday bridge, in the Atocha McDonalds to overflowing during rush hour, stirring the most common garbage Madrid in order to find my phone. I took out half-eaten burgers, chips, drink, Happy Meal dolls Bee Bee Movie stars of the film (one of which served to replace the one my daughter had lost), to diapers ... Albal paper sandwich, a bottle of ketchup on the great Anything from home ... unimaginable, except my phone. (Snif, snif, "who was going to say" to me that would end up longing for a Bisbal). Total
, and a long story that McDonalds Gentlemen, anytime you see fit, it is questionable gave me to offer a complete statistical products more and less successful ones among its varied, all depending on what customers discarded after being swallowed whole, or rather half. My friends of the soul, you can go when you feel like calling me and you may have a while for me to be recovering all your phone numbers now rests in the hands of some unscrupulous thief.
And everyone else, I beg you to be vigilant and careful what you cast garbage, because with the run that led, eventually, to me to review.
PD1: Thanks to the friendly passerby on the street (which no scaffolding, no star apparently) yesterday, while I was passing by the square of Lavapies after returning from a funeral, was kind enough to broach a compliment rude, including such well-executed and painful head turned against chirimbolo frontolateral stamp paper. I'm so grateful that this leading event I've noted in my diary with love, just in case it were your last, you hear, you never know, and Mendes will no longer thirty.
PD2: Thanks to others that you have followed my blog interesting for this period despite my absence.
PD3: Kisses to Olgui, Ada, Monica, Maite ('bread basket!) To Cosita (ra, ra, ra) and Therese darling, we love you and I more.
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