A few hours ago there was the scene involving long feared my cute little brother 11 years old, whom I have dealt with carefully molded to make it an exemplary.
long since I sat down to watch Hendrix burning his guitar at Monterey leaving gaping, when asked last week at the school to put together the biography of a character, Jimi was his choice, "we spent hours talking about European history after they asked me who was Mussolini, I dealt with her first CD itself was Revolver, I encourage you to read Poe, we religiously Peter Capusotto and his videos together, etc.
Now, I find this morning preparing meatballs to eat. I, with my hands full of minced meat disgusting stand only for his sake, I'm listening Fish Credulity. The kid is coming, and with his best face and voice yomelassétodas Luis Almirante Brown starts to sing "tieeeempo chlorophyll, nothing interesaaa me ...". Before you reach the part of "come, come closer you rinse the clam, the dead stop. "You're a moron" I say. "But if igualenennn" shoot me while going up, cursing with laughter, embodied in what by now adopted as his alter ego (fuck off: "I do not want to wash the dienteseneeenn", "that is not rocanroleennneenn" and other statements is frighteningly out natural).
Seriously, if Capusotto asshole ends up making you lose the respect Spinetta, will stop falling so nice.
And better not let him hear For .
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