How To Ask For Money On Baby Shower Invites

(H1N1, the influence of influenza)

THE END OF THE WORLD VIRUS

sneeze fear. Do not touch, do not kiss, do not shake hands, do not offer the other cheek, leaving the streets empty for the fear dwell, stay away from airports, ports prevents, burning their passports, wear a mask and do not breathe more air vacuum packaging in supermarkets. The second largest city in the world can also become a desert. Vacuum

classroom. Empty bus stop. Empty the Azteca stadium. Empty the library and the park also. Empty Plaza Constitution. Empty the stage without any song. Vacuum every inch of the subway and also empty the shelves of pharmacies in the neighborhood. Literature as

omen. All I saw was called Jules Verne fantasy novel, Saramago's fable what is now called news. Something halfway between Blindness and death Intermittently crosses my head and chest when I go through the six letters say, M é xic o.

And there is no border to stop the paranoia spread by reading the newspaper this morning and the radio voices this afternoon and television pictures tonight. Emergency is the official order. Dead is dead no one who cries in the middle of the state of general panic. Laboratories cemeteries changed and this is the place where the bodies are resting.

A cold and lonely travels through the tropics and as many places as the World Health Organization said the spread of the virus and can not be stopped and someone asks atheists who, by God, help praying to the Virgin of Guadalupe. You hear the tango of the deadly wound, which tested a stanza fatal, epidemic and pandemic are difficult to rhyme. In a pig farm there are those who have fear about going to the pigsty to feed the pig is more tender than he had known until yesterday. Today's reality is not the success of the global rating for a day has earned him the truth. Today

not seek to Chavela Vargas with a bolero fallacious because in my ears Michael Stipe continues to sing: It's The End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine).

Throat Infection (images)

(Hall squad)

THE EMPEDRADO

His books open doors that close after hardly. And that's fine. Asist you some insight and (still) insolence and over the years a great deal of wisdom that make me finally return to their letters to make sure they always agree. But this time, yes. So nobody left here Ray's weekly column published in the supplement Loriga El Pais Semanal, the newspaper El Pais (Spain). Some will always say better than you what you were thinking.

THE
EMPEDRADO

By Ray Loriga

Basically we believe in God more than they admit. The natural calamities (act of God), earthquakes, tsunamis, floods, erupting volcanoes and all kinds of devastating fires, causing us, at least for a moment, true feelings of compassion and solidarity, empathy with the suffering and sometimes drawn from the bottom of our distracted hearts, actions, or at least touching gestures of generosity. Even the acts of the devil, the brutal attacks of the various forms of terrorism in the world are, and even the gruesome murders of demons without cause and on foot, produce more anger and dismay that we melt into an embrace with the pain of others. Our own problems (the works of man) lead us directly to raise accusing fingers, to do more beating a dead horse or fall, that to think about rebuilding the cabin.

God seems that no one will blame you and we do not pass one. Makes sense, of course, to God no one will take a rope around the neck, but it is surprising that a community is born misfortunes, while others lead to peeling of weekly community meeting.

Given the problems that we face, and seismographs have already said that earthquakes are lost causes, barely listen to possible solutions, or at least real attempts to advance together towards the common misfortune. Everything you read and see every day are wild accusations, contempt constant and that old political maxim that ditch all threatening the opponent with the catalog of his own awkwardness, if not with his list of grievances or criminal record certificate.

is not uncommon among what they call the common people (who do not quite know what exactly) growing unease, if not the absolute distrust those in charge not only of mockery of the adversary, but also, and forgive the ingenuity, the real effort to improve the pavement.

Given the various meetings of piles to the wrath of those who hate a system which not only silenced the noisy part. A beautiful paradox.

seems that, in the opinion of the Queen of England, also had slipped into a noisy (some pointed to Berlusconi), but the issue is not that.

Presumably, the frustration of those who shout in the street is similar to the frustration of those who have only recently learned from them screaming from the pulpits of the media. It would also be more to count the number of dissatisfied and give him a legitimate representative to frustrate all together.

Bolsheviks also entered palaces, though I remember not by invitation only, but those were different times.

It would not hurt, I think, that these meetings the system had at least one anti-delegate, but this may cause uncomfortable contradictions within his movement not.

Everything in life comes with certain responsibilities, even anarchy.

Finally, do not cry out blood for those who have no voice within.

The truth is that the leaders of the world almost free smile at each other abroad, knowing that returning home will not be fighting against the beasts that prey on citizens, but against the beasts that seek to steal the confidence of his subjects. Now

the world is a closed shop, no longer touching each other how are fighting for the keys so sinister business.

Since the soil seems to be willing to open up beneath our feet at will and that the sky will fall on our heads when he wants, it would be too much to ask that I will use a bit of time in our prayers ourselves rezarnos .

us out eyes is getting us very far. RAY

LORIGA 26/04/2009

PUBLISHED BY THE COUNTRY WEEKLY THE COUNTRY NEWSPAPER www.elpais.com

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(Cuba News, April 2009)

90 Miles

Bridges crossing from one side another of the same heart. Off the vacuum and the madness you find that hope, that he was tired of waiting, has risen like Lazarus to remember that joy is also a place. This time no one can take you to a place other than that of your destination. Again, Cuba is once again just 90 miles from the U.S. and not so many years of abyss. I'm not talking policy or crossing a sea wall worse than the pins at the Berlin before 89. Blocks of texts that speak of the embargo. There he taught about this story knows the story better. I applaud Obama for not black nor do I have cheers for old Fidel. I'm talking about something that just now seems a possibility and a sign also of the times: the embrace allowed at the end of a grandparent with a child who is his grandson. And they knew or photos. Cross

hope in the first flight tomorrow.

will spend the day and hear a new song. Here are beautiful opening chords.

country is also the desire to return.