He is a simple poet who is able for rhyme at the speed of his veícolo longo. We meet each other in our inhospitable Alcarria summers, those Weird Ones´ summers that make your soul gold and your liver marinade (or so used to -any time passed by, I can´t remember).
Alcocer´s Karting 1st Grand Prix was born under a killing sun over the weird circuit of Cabanillas del Campo, quite close to Guadalajara, Spain.
The nickname came out of its neverending 13 laps, some closed ones and very closed ones the rest. The work of someone so weird as to disregard how stupid logic commands a love for your ribs, for your teech (centifugal force makes seat and ribs come close like only passionate lovers do, running away out of jealousy the body that is kept between them, what causes the driver an important ache during around three weeks). In that very same place, the guy had dared to defy me “I bet we don´t do it” and from that moment on we were already late in organizing it. Don Victor (or Mr Guindos as you may prefer) -as nothing ever comes out in this country if there is not a trinity for it - was asked for his blessings (Ain´t he not a company consultant for reasons like that?) he gave his thumb up and a November 25th the creature weas born, in the presence of The Father and The Son, since The Holy Spirit was already heading for “Buenos Aires” (“Good Airs” in English, or even better ones if you like. My memory is week)
From “Osuli”, that´s his name -hadn´t I told you so? came the weird idea of the Golden, Silver and Bronze “Botijos” as well as the idea of the “Honour Beret” for the fastest lap. His is also the idea of giving a turtle (“la tortuga fisikela que ni corre ni vuela” - watch F1 races for further understanding) to the lowest ranking driver at the end of the race.
Ain´t he artistic? He is a drinker (one of the good ones) ante merididan, who may not take even a drop during daylight, what gives him a vampire air that has always make me wonder. As soon as the sun sets, the Weird One, half copper, half tin, shows a neverending list of ideas and crazy remarks over the Dyc bottles´blanket to which his followers gather and there he comes up with poems, jokes, and years have made him the living memory of his fellas. But that
it´s true, each year the gathering is smaller in numbers, which makes the party even more weird, and the pile of bottles shorter.
As a conclusion, and in proof of his Weirdness (Bizarría) I will only reveal one os his habits: on tuesday parties he would gather with his fellas in an almost cracked down building that they would call “Peña” , and there he would come up with a battle of spitting that would make people feel like coming out from a shower, while the radio-cassette was broken down for some -not Weird ones- who had been able to dance. I hope you may forgive me this kind of technological last words, and believe me, to tell this is not a fourth of seeing them coming out of the barrack, so showered up, after their personal “Catarsis”.
Alcocer´s Karting 1st Grand Prix was born under a killing sun over the weird circuit of Cabanillas del Campo, quite close to Guadalajara, Spain.
The nickname came out of its neverending 13 laps, some closed ones and very closed ones the rest. The work of someone so weird as to disregard how stupid logic commands a love for your ribs, for your teech (centifugal force makes seat and ribs come close like only passionate lovers do, running away out of jealousy the body that is kept between them, what causes the driver an important ache during around three weeks). In that very same place, the guy had dared to defy me “I bet we don´t do it” and from that moment on we were already late in organizing it. Don Victor (or Mr Guindos as you may prefer) -as nothing ever comes out in this country if there is not a trinity for it - was asked for his blessings (Ain´t he not a company consultant for reasons like that?) he gave his thumb up and a November 25th the creature weas born, in the presence of The Father and The Son, since The Holy Spirit was already heading for “Buenos Aires” (“Good Airs” in English, or even better ones if you like. My memory is week)
From “Osuli”, that´s his name -hadn´t I told you so? came the weird idea of the Golden, Silver and Bronze “Botijos” as well as the idea of the “Honour Beret” for the fastest lap. His is also the idea of giving a turtle (“la tortuga fisikela que ni corre ni vuela” - watch F1 races for further understanding) to the lowest ranking driver at the end of the race.
Ain´t he artistic? He is a drinker (one of the good ones) ante merididan, who may not take even a drop during daylight, what gives him a vampire air that has always make me wonder. As soon as the sun sets, the Weird One, half copper, half tin, shows a neverending list of ideas and crazy remarks over the Dyc bottles´blanket to which his followers gather and there he comes up with poems, jokes, and years have made him the living memory of his fellas. But that
it´s true, each year the gathering is smaller in numbers, which makes the party even more weird, and the pile of bottles shorter.As a conclusion, and in proof of his Weirdness (Bizarría) I will only reveal one os his habits: on tuesday parties he would gather with his fellas in an almost cracked down building that they would call “Peña” , and there he would come up with a battle of spitting that would make people feel like coming out from a shower, while the radio-cassette was broken down for some -not Weird ones- who had been able to dance. I hope you may forgive me this kind of technological last words, and believe me, to tell this is not a fourth of seeing them coming out of the barrack, so showered up, after their personal “Catarsis”.
Español English Français Português
No comments:
Post a Comment