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tree that grows crooked ... Aggression

In my last entry promised to give advice to slapper to approach women. I was asking the comrades how they like to be carried out the initial courtship, and a few days ago I shared with the world the wisdom I gathered.

I was working out at the Sports Complex Quetzalcoatl, located at 6 East of San Andrés Cholula, while he was hosting a children's soccer tournament interstate. On the edge of the field were 15 children sitting about ten years, with his coach. When I passed in front, I heard some expressions of lust from children and addressed to me. I pretended not to hear them and ran on without turning. On the next lap, one of them shouted "Come, we'll introduce our coach!" The proposal made me laugh, without looking at them and said no hand. New cries arose, "Why not? If you are well handsome! "" A millionaire, has five houses! "," Speak English! "" He's single! "With such a resume about I turn around to meet the above, but I resist the urge and followed which trotted gazelle.

Suddenly I was plunged into a profound reflection. These young creatures might be the slapper of the future! Are the new generations, that within a few years to decide whether they go through life feeling women randomly cross them ... I had to do something.

When I passed and I heard the cries again, I stopped, turned around to where the children were and said "Come on, come." Of course they ran, terrified, to hide behind the swings, from where they began to throw sticks to discourage my anger. "I do not want to sing. Would not that brave? Did no one will come? "At last one came up. At first I was terrified, "I was not lady, it was them." When I said I was not angry, we started talking and soon others came. I told his team: they came to San Luis and had just won the game.

girlfriend asked if they had, and disappointed answered no. "I guess," I said, "I will teach you how to link to a girl." All content sat around me. "The next time you see a girl you like, not going to cry, not going to whistle, and was not going to whiteness." "And then?" Said one with a face of anguish. "They come and say 'Hey, what's your name?" She will answer and perhaps stay to chat. Maybe he will, but if you scream, we whistle or sapwood, insurance chivea and walks away. "After a series of questions and answers about the art of approaching, I started to walk away thinking that the meeting represented a generational change. My naivete Perenganito collapsed when he said "But madam, was the coach told us you cry! To see if they will be having some beers and you teach Cholula "...

Now I understand slapper. If your child's soul was corrupted by a coach who sent you to your prospect alburearte cruising, we could not expect you to be a normal person. Forgive me for judging and harassing enfermodelsexo . You are, but not your fault.

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writing this column for a university colleague, whose name unknown but whose existence I learned through of a classmate. We'll call the "slapper" because his hobby is to tinker with women's bodies without consent of their owners.

a matter of my sources, this will work tipirrín rather absurd choreography, which pretends to stumble, reaches out, and coincidentally sits on the chest of the nearest woman. Then apologize and not withdrawn their dirty Garritan neck of the victim. A variant is that the guy comes from behind, hugs a woman and puts both hooves on your chest. When the lady turns around, he pretends to be sorry and apologizes for having mistaken his girlfriend (imaginary). I say imagined because this monkey is certainly not girlfriend. If so, would not be the need to mount so pathetic spectacle to mitigate its effervescent hormones.

So slapper, hope you're reading this. Not to scold, but because I care about your unmet need in the future can become harmful acts to the world. There is a theory that all the world's problems are the backdrop of sexual frustration, because it causes increased aggressiveness in men. How about if true, slapper, and soon I will become villain, terrorist or soldier who violate elderly in Zongolica? I could not forgive me!

For this reason I write. Say your site favorite is the gym (although you see your round the social center). I went looking to speak personally, but we do not agree on time, or maybe I'm not your type, too bad. So I'm telling you here.

Look, slapper, there are certain things that distinguish us from other animals. For example, how we relate. We have developed a series of rites and forms of communication that we use to interact. When you, without any prior interaction, Posas your hands on another person's body parts considered private, you are breaking some of the rules of coexistence, and the individual in question can be angry. I understand, the rules go against the instincts most basic, even against the stimulus-response process. So the spoilers are! It turns out that these things are not taken, earn, and perhaps the healthiest in the world repressive, while we change it, is that you adhere to some basic rules.

If you channel your animal appetites toward a more subtle and consensual, I assure you that you have better chances of finding a bit of pampering, what you doing you need. I know that sounds difficult for someone who is so in touch with their primal instincts, but seek help if necessary. If you want to publish next week a few tips on how to approach women.

In the meantime, young ladies not to get caught off guard. And those that do they encounter the gripper, are firm but not aggressive. As a puppy when you're trying to teach him not to bite and give the leg only when you ask.

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gender slapper

A bienportaditas fragile young ladies, we have difficulty understanding the brutality with which men treat each other. That cruelty shown to attack others, with the verb or fist, makes us perceive them as wild beasts and foolish. I remember my brother came home from school to tell who was beaten and who had managed to mourn. It filled my eyes with tears to think that he who shares my genes were capable of such atrocities.

This animalistic aggression of men is not a mystery. Some blame on the genes and instinct, others to "just learned from my dad." Regardless of the cause, it is generally accepted the premise and a engañao lives, thinking they are the ones for which one must be careful. But experience has taught me that no, ladies and gentlemen, in the urge to hurt the others, women do not know boundaries.

I learned, as most painful lessons at an early age. I was a naive pre-puberty did not know the dangers of female aggression. In those days, had only a friend, Melchorita, who spent every recess. We sat in the garden to have flowers and look maripostitas; shared a peanut sandwich and orange juice, and we fed to our wrists.

We decided to change the routine and venture into the field gang. So we went to spy on other girls in the room, which were reputed to be half malosas. Seeing playing spring (elastic, as they say the Yucatan), we wanted to integrate. "No," said Socorrito, who organized the game, "and we are many." Note that Socorrito I had a bitter hatred since he broke into his life and took advantage every opportunity to make clear. The rejection of tipirrina offended us and in a fit of rebellion I yelled, "Well, spring is your panties sir!" Error. Spring did seem to trousers, the kind that have a blue and a red hairline, Hanes brand. Still, to express my comments against the gang was a huge mistake. Socorrito turned furious and in that moment I realized I was in trouble. I started running awkwardly, but of course I hit a few steps and, as vile gangster, I was arrested four against the wall, while the other hit me.

incident scars were marked as Deep in my soul, and she became a star bashing of my worst nightmares. They say that to date, in dreams, I hear: "Socorrito, Socorrito, please do not hit me!"

Years later, I met with another individual, Socorrito University, re-loaded version, "whose hatred towards me intensities reached to previously unknown. Go fright I got when I learned I was taking classes in Krav Maga, as defined in Wikipedia as "the official system of defense of the Israeli army." Oh my.

But there is no sorrowing, to train for something kitbotsin and my biceps are growing day by day. Let me rethink this with more accuracy: study International Relations by something, to find diplomatic solutions to conflicts.

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emo side of my

The Day of the Dead and Halloween have never been among my favorite holidays. Between I do not like dressing up and give me scare the dead and their derivatives, all held at this time is that come with plenty of sweet pan de muerto. Although almost always end up disguised in a party or admiring the altar which honors all deceased legendary this cult of death and ghosts is not something that excites me.

I do not know at what point did this rejection. of girl you worked a dark side, now that I remember, is a little scary. It was my custom to have multiple pets that twist of fate (which had nothing to do con mi entrega, cuidados o cariño), morían a los pocos días de llegar a mi casa. Por esa y otras razones, con la muerte estuve en contacto una y otra vez. Y aunque estaba lejos de verla como un juego, sí formaba parte de mi mundo de fantasía. Yo creo que era un poco emo .

A cada hámster, pájaro o lagartija que se murió bajo mi cuidado, le organizaba un homenaje póstumo en el jardín de mi casa. La carroza fúnebre era el coche de mis Barbies decorado con un moño negro, y al cortejo asistían mis 21 muñecos vestidos de luto. Luego enterraba a la criatura, le decía mis palabras de despedida, y ponía sobre su tomb a flower and a piece of paper with his obituary. Not satisfied with the funeral and have become the garden of my mother in a cemetery, sat every October in my doll house of the dead altar dedicated to pets who had died during the year, and instead of mole and rice, put carrots and sunflower seeds. But this dark side was in the past and now one of the things I hate most in the world is entering a cemetery.

do not like Halloween, but I've brought some good times. Two years ago my cousin Rodaberto, then fans of this time of ghosts, wanted strong and went to ask his mummy costume calaverita: with the body completely bandaged. After 20 minutes back home with his costume all crippled and face just as white bands now hung like rags. It turns out that a dog in the neighborhood was struck by the tail of one of the bands that had been released, and decided to pursue Rodaberto. Others joined the attack dogs, throwing bits and pieces of cloth tearing, and my poor cousin was forced to throw their candy and throw to run to the house.

The other day I was trying to convince Rodaberto that mummy mask again and let me accompany it with my camera. He declined, but the coming year I try with sister. I think that although I'm not emo , my dark side remains and at this time, as a full moon, let me inevitably come to light.

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"There are blows in life, so powerful ... I do not know."

Nearly three years after the birth, life gave me a wonderful gift: a small inbred Jaime name. Since its early stages, I was awarded the role of older sister spent my youth to guide you through the paths of virtue. To instill respect for nature, took my cats, dogs and mice to bed que le dieran los buenos. Para desarrollar su sensibilidad, lo ponía a jugar a las muñecas; él era el papá, la mascota o el profesor de karate. Le leí poemas, le hablé de la fraternidad del mundo, de las frágiles fronteras entre el bien y el mal… Ahora el retoño ha crecido, empieza a extender las alas para volar del nido, y toda la familia observamos, atentos, intentando adivinar qué rumbos tomará.
No niego que hemos tenido nuestros desencuentros. Recuerdo la vez que lanzó una de mis mascotas por la ventana. O cuando jugamos a La Bella Durmiente y al reinterpretar la pelea de Maléfica y el príncipe, Jaime olvidó los límites entre fantasía y realidad y me descalabró con un metal tube. Or when in front of my father, I asked my little boyfriend in high school that made him to kiss me how, if I'm so small. I've had my details. I probably hated the day he arrived with his friends home and I had turned his room into a nursery for my dolls. Or when he used his baseball mitt and hospital bed for a lizard wound. Or the countless times you call at four in the morning to ask if I open the door because I forgot the keys.
Nevertheless, our relationship is love. And despite the pilot who has lived past Jaime (has ventured into a wide range of activities seemingly unrelated to each other), never imagine what would happen is happening. Without further notice, overnight, announced it was writing songs. We ask that you show your work, excited, and what was my surprise when I realized that the verses were pronounced lips, no doubt, a reggaeton song. Not repeat here the words, my sense of decency will not let me. But they were reggaeton's good, go, in every sense of the word. Immediately I turned around to see my mom, who was biting his lower lip, I wonder if holding back the laughter or the urge to mourn.
Yes, gentlemen. After all I've railed against this kind and preachers, today my brother is one of them. Take your banana monkey. And although at first glance has no common feature or accessory with Wisin and Yandel (again graciasadios), found in verses as reggaeton expression. And before that, I can only adjust. So now I come to virtual sessions of reggaeton in showing me their favorite videos and interpretation of the lyrics.
No way ... Jaime is one of my favorite people in the world. And if he can respect that I like to breed lizards wounds, I can respect that he likes to do reggaeton.

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You may call it angel, destiny, fate or consequence. I do not know if the source is divine, cosmic, random or individually, but what is driving you good fortune. Even in the unfortunate events, some event occurs providential, the issue is resolved and I'm leaving intact.

On Thursday I traveled to Mexico City to go to a party. For a change, during the tour came to end the cell phone battery, and had no house number where the fun would take place. Of course I was not going to be overwhelmed by these trifles, in the end it was a street girl and was easy to be guided by the music ...

Court: half an hour later, backpack and cell phone off in the hands, strolling along a street bad death, sticking my ear to the door to see if they discovered any evidence behind the celebration. Once the taxi lights were lost in the horizon, and nothing was to illuminate the bleak landscape, I realized that my plan was at least sensible. "But what I had? The only option was to charge my phone in a house but if he touched a bell, and said "who", what would you answer? If my story narrated nobody was going to pass up. Unfortunate event.

Therein, providential sign, I found an open door and left a boy to ask what was offered to me. I explained my situation and asked to put to charge my phone. She took my artifacts, and minutes later returned and said "my mom says that passes." With my no survival instinct, went into the room I've seen stranger: Object stuck until today do not know what they were, and the wall covered with pictures, swords and pieces of animal carcasses. "Sit down," he said. I obeyed, and for eternal seconds we were well: he stood in front of me, arms crossed, watching me, and I sat, avoiding his eyes and swallowing hard. "I like the pictures, right?" I managed to say with a trembling voice. "Rather, bulls, "he replied.

The tipitos I began talking to his family of fighters, and showed me his collection of articles from journalists who speak it. I already had like three. Jorge Rizo, is called, is a rookie but his family has a lineage in what the bulls. When asked if I liked I said no, but I avoided confess that at one time was part of a campaign to abolish them. (A quick calculation of forces and the image of swords hanging on the wall suggested to me that this was not the best place to start a political discussion of that nature).

Finally, I called my friend. "I am lost in the house of a matador, do you What are you doing? "It gave me the wrong street and offered to go for me. I said goodbye to Jorge Rizo, thanked him for one of the most surreal nights of my life, and promised to continue his career on the Internet.

If my parents find out about this, reckless strongly disapprove and say that a young woman alone in these areas, and those hours is a direct provocation to the bad faith of the criminals. They are right. My angel / luck / fate / consequence of good fortune was proven once more, but that's no reason to be tempting the devil. Do not do again.

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I think I attacked the virus del último semestre. Ese que te da cuando de pronto te cae el veinte de que casi llegas al mundo de las responsabilidades, que está a punto de acabar tu etapa de rebeldía, y te das cuenta de que, en realidad, no has sido tan rebelde.
En primer semestre desarrollé una serie de juicios y prejuicios hacia los tipitos que se emocionaban por ya no vivir con sus papás, salían diario a la fiesta, llegaban a clases crudos (en el mejor de los casos), y la prioridad en sus vidas parecía ser el perreo de todas las noches. Decía que eran pubertos tardíos, porque según yo esas ansias de explorar la juventud te invaden como a los 13 años, no a los 20. Y heme aquí, uno que otro año más allá de los 20, and suddenly it makes me want to be like them.
Well, I exaggerated. But who knows what happens to me yesterday I found myself dancing reggaeton. And with witnesses. Were only a few seconds, a couple of timid movements, casual and discreet, to the tune of "pose pose pose." Enough for a friend went through the place and approached to ask if those cute little steps had been the result of his mentecilla dulled by alcohol. Even enough to alert my companions, who then later took the camera to capture the moment. Of course, I stopped feeling so immediately observed, and pretended to be having a philosophical conversation with newly come, who wisely told me to stop trying to resist those impulses healthy. Perhaps
claims are the same instincts that have led me in recent weeks to explore the horizons of life in Cholula, for 9 semesters, I had relegated to the dark side of the heart. Maybe you can blame for my appearances this week in places never before possessed me to visit. The good thing is I have a friend that is like me. On Tuesday we ride together, and in our desperation to "live the youth" end tucked into the Unit, with a beer in hand and not quite knowing where or stand. Soon we ran into a friend and swore to keep secret that meeting in such a place, fearing the damage that could result in our respective social circles. Why not publish their own names for them, we are not able to be losing friends as well, for free.
experience on this site was almost surreal. A man chimuelo and more than 35, to learn that the end of my studies is close, I offered to take a "party drug" to say goodbye to Cholula "as God commands." A tipitos, which helped him up when he fell backwards into a chair, looking for his cell phone to record my number out of his bag a lemon and a pencil sharpener (would that do?).
Then I will talk the rest of the night. For now, I'll walk around Camino Real, to see what wonderful destinations seduce me today.

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800 pesos

Since I entered the UDLAP bring in the depths of the soul a nuisance, hidden but lurking. Over time it has grown and recently after a visit to CACE, woke up with a grievance squeezing my throat was so strong so strong, I feel the need to express.

Complaint: I express.

The question brings me emberrinchada has to do with financial aid UDLAP. And here is that scholarships are quite curiositas. Give them in droves, sometimes just not so convenient. Just imagine, little lady, sir. The coming semester will take two courses, which are still 12 units, almost 22 thousand dollars of tuition. I have grant 20%, which represents 4.392 pesos. Thus we must subtract 3.500 costing the checkbook of the draw that I spout (of course my dad always ends up paying because no one wants to buy 350 tickets for a raffle, and even worth offering gives pregnant). Scholarship are 892 pesos, which is that chamber 80 hours. Exits to 11.15 pesos miserable time. Well, not blond, not just leave the bills! Best I get to work on the Fly, pay 100 per day plus tips, and incidentally give you free food.

I've never liked people who complain rather than do something to change what is affecting you. On Saturday I met a Brazilian who recently bought a Toyota, here in Mexico, which went chafísima and broke down a month. The tipitos is committed to your car to be replaced by a new one, and apparently will not rest until it succeeds. His strategy is not the pure complaints: is doing everything possible to leave it more expensive Toyota's tantrum this gentleman having changed the car at first.

was thinking of applying this same strategy. Rather than complain to the UDLAP, assemble a move to leave them more expensive to have me as a student this half to change my 20% by a grant of 100% and no stubs:

1) start by never go to the bathroom in my house, putting up to go and spend UDLAP water and toilet paper. I'm taking an empty tube of paper to bring me a little bit, for when I can handle.

2) daily'll get along as many chips as possible, then I would feed the pigeons to create a plague of these animals is very expensive to remove.

3) I will drink water from the lake to get sick and then go to the clinic to cure because I do not know but are loath to have me there with serum or cotton or whatever they give me.

4) will organize a propaganda campaign and across the university will stick posters IBERO, AMLO, and other actors in the UDLAP highly unpopular, that the administration is forced to take off.

If someone has another proposal, or if you want to join my reciprocating cost recovery, do not hesitate to contact me by this or other media.

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approximate transcript of words that accidentally heard in a computer room of a university:

"I say that everything is the fault of the system. Adults complain that 'the youth of today' are not as those before, and my boss one day my friends described as 'a bunch of thugs and pelafustanes'. But they do not realize that one is polishing virtues, and for this you just can not.
give you an example. The University stingy deny me a good scholarship, I give a percentage chafísima, I reel off three stubs of the draw and, after full pay because nobody wanted to buy, I still paltry 800 pesos for a fellowship.
To make matters worse, my boss does not stop to consider the hard work, sleepless nights writing papers, not because you procrastinating until the last minute, but by the desire that I put them. Nel, none of this matters to my boss. Instead of giving me the 800 as a reward and twins, had hoped to make do because he says that, anyway, is he who keeps me. Grabs me and says that if given to me, spend it on my vices of delayed puberty. But then, what else? First
going to buy school supplies, after I have my college notebook and pens that I workaround the floor or the student organizations fair. Just be what the books. Business but only costs about 400. There already was half me and so do not leave bills, blond. It is not my fault that the law of the book above does not work and there is no benefit to the student ... Comes
still basically the same when one wants to invest their 800 pesos in other school matters, such as trafficking of final works with colleagues you handle what is shyness. It is not my fault that I'm not good at school, everyone's strengths and if mine are others, what is wrong with recognizing the comparative advantage they have others? But they are in collusion with the system are the bourgeoisie of knowledge, do not understand that not everyone in the proletariat, so we killed, and they sell so expensive that my budget does not cover or two above tests nine. Then I would have to settle for eight, and there are allegations that if I am mediocre or if God knows what.
Now, if I invest the little money in establishments around the university, we sang a different story. Look at Tiki enough to invite me on the band to suck twice, less so and the next I invite them. It's called maximizing resources, and I saw him in class with Almazán.
The point here is that the neoliberal capitalist system itself cornered us and we have no choice but to submit to the rules of globalization and free markets. That's why I say that if the revolution is armed, entered him. "

NOTE: The big words in this story have been replaced by a familiar language and Sunday, suitable for all ages

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I know that lately this page goes something stop. Noe scolding me and rightly so, and I have to admit I'ma little lazy about it (this of blogs is not exactly one of my preferences.) It also has a bit of guilt because my modem as I try to connect it gives me time to do a lot of things. But do not think that this is abandoned. Are still taking orders, not only as an individual, but, little by little, we are introducing it in stores. I hope everything is coming correctly and that you are being happy.

You know that you too can spice up the thing with your comments (so far we are happy because we get are good - thank you very much - and that is, after work has become very rewarding course) and if you have any doubt about any particular way, you can see in the section of questions and try to solve it.

Edu also tell him to see if you can put a picture because I like I have no digital camera, the moment will not let me hang slides. At the end are you going to think I live in the Stone Age.

And thanks to Noe for making me spend so well in the south of Peña Santa.

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My Birthday and years

The other day was my birthday. Lying on my bed and surfeit of cake, I went into a profound reflection: on what it has meant LAEDA.
A little girl that was good gifts and pinatas, but a birthday was also a humiliation. Because I spent my tiny stature to be the fun of living, which at that age, I worried a lot. I remember my mom made me a bun in her hair, through which the peers I started saying "the source". A few days later, a fucking kid rather witty said I was "the splash" and then I lost my dignity. Although these jokes
happening at any time, it got worse at times of my birthday because then I asked "how you turn?", I replied "ten" and the people were cruel: "Not true! You seem like six. " And I was sad.
long ago went to a party where they gave away Red Bull, and I went to order one. The tipirrina the post said, "Sorry, my dear, are for over 13 years." A little dazed, I could only answer "I have nineteen". And, with his head down and without energy drink in hand, walked away.
But youth is only in appearance. Today, the reasons for derision are others. My colleagues commented on my age with a vengeance because I am old enough and boast of his supposed youth. I always say that two years is nothing, but deep down I know the difference is higher. I do not speak of maturity, but señorez, which are two different things.
For example, at age 15, when it should be at the height of adolescence and move to the rhythm of Bricny Spirs, said before the whole room was my favorite song Memories, from Cats, and again lost.
On my birthday of 18, I first tried to go to a nightclub. But I'm coming and going out the señorcito me that I was not the photo identification. Instead of insisting, I was very quiet and buy some popcorn in the corner, as my friends realized that I was outside and dragged out of the antrum.
same now, and a little older, my parents Fridays are frustrated because instead of going out with my friends I get on average two to watch movies, all upset. I am the typical
, which supposedly very cool lady, I want to use the vocabulary of the youth "with ridiculous consequences, like telling Pipod the Ipod, the Blackberries Blueberry and VideOh to Radiohead. Dens obscure me, I get sleepy at 11, and I like knit sweaters and rombitos.
Those early years are gone, now my knees hurt when I run and I approach the world of bichocos. Today I am glad that about the time say that Memories is my favorite song, is socially acceptable.

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Take take, a bachelor's degree in Morocco

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Yes, look, it will stop showing off for the revelry organized within the college, as UDLAP day, which you can listen and bitch to the rhythm of the hits, played for the entire the community from the center and emepetrés formats. Are the success stories of the greats, such as The Factory, Wisin y Yandel, Don Omar, Fey and Christina Aguilera. In this great celebration no one is excluded, since the racket comes in all classrooms and all the lords involves users, including one spoilsport who tried to continue with academic lessons.

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same since the company will bring to you the offering: it will take everything for a short time academic training. Two fifty it's worth, it costs two fifty. For two hours a week of class material, you will have access to all the options listed in this voice that speaks.

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