Sunday paella was the amic amb Roger . So many years later. Another thing that was half over the last decade, always so hard to do anything that would involve stop watching TV ... Also, came with us Manolo friend. So the food was delicious: we put green Rubalcaba, I attacked gallardón red crypto Pepe and the self-conscious. As I was taking effect the Aragonese merlot we set and after looking at the life of Fouche, were giving way to various places to spread in the future (do not shut me work on Cervantes in a few years) and talked about future conferences and went convinced of the goodness, at this age, to become soft toyboys women and faded by age.
When we were finished, the conversation we slipped into the protagonist of the Manolo's latest book, Francisco de Miranda : john, player, megalomaniac and a traitor. They offered us a copy of his latest book. Just smell it already promised. I'll read it and you idle reader, should do the same. And I thought, and going back home, strangely enough, a year ago or so presented above, but then it was me who was in the United States ...
How slowly the days and how quickly the months pass.
PS: family lunch today to celebrate the birthday nearby.
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