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Question: Does it bother you the girls that having sex have had better bedfellows?

Jean Tully: I itched a lot when I said it, so it was increasingly applied. It was sort of a never-ending, after each cap mediocre I asked and they answered me the dreaded phrase. I became like a madman and trying to repeat the task with more application.

I finally became a real sexual locomotive without my knowledge and rumor ran (ahem) between chavalas (and boys) in the neighborhood. Everyone knew what they had to do with me to fuck like they never had fucked: tell me her former lover had been better. I got angry so I was getting a new instant erection, an erection almost imperishable, an iron bar, a bull Mihura. The trunk of an elephant fucking.

heavens, for a couple of months I had to fuck half the neighborhood. I lost fifteen kilos and I started feeling weaker and weaker. Do not know what to do to keep my rhythm, could not understand. If it was fucking bad, why would God let them all with me. I fell into a depression and I began to spend the scholarship money for drugs. Finally I fucked up the girlfriend of my camel, also according to her fucking better than me. I could not more.

One day a policeman woke me up. I had fallen asleep with his pants down and cock the air in a park. There were people around and I do not remember anything. When I got home I took a shower, cried inconsolably and I swore to myself never to fuck with anyone else.

Years later a friend told me the secret. Since then I have to have sex, but only with my wife. And I do so with great reluctance.

Question: Have you ever blown smoke penis while pooping?

Jean Tully: Yes, I have me burning, yes. More than once. It was one of the reasons why I quit (my smoking was so great that before I thought about quitting shit, but I screwed up my week on the bus, going to work).

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II Secret History of Móstoles Móstoles

Ismael often wonder what the hell was a useful expel a French king to bring "an anchor Bourbon." This gives me the opportunity to point out about the true motives of the Declaration of Independence of 1808.

The celebrated May 2 of that year Andrés Torrejón and Simón Hernández, in a daring move of cooperation between classes that are anticipated a century fascism, decided to declare war on France. This was due to two reasons, one political, separatist and revolutionary root and other aesthetic.

one hand, it was away in Spain all advanced as illustrated and brought to the ruler of the neighboring country in an apparent attempt to destabilize the nation so many years had mostoleña-subduing sovereignty declaration by Villa part of Felipe II was always taken here as a true imperialist provocation. That is, was an attempt to plunge to Spain in a war for taking advantage of the confusion and collapse of the system, rise in revolt and declare an independent Móstoles Spain, following a socialist self-management system that 63 years later calcareous the Paris Commune. Hence the "War of Independence."

It was not therefore independence from France, the French only came here to throw bread crumbs to the ducks in the pond and drink the wine Soto pitarra (local winemaking techniques were exactly the same as when Móstoles was the Kingdom of Taifa of Badajoz).

There was another reason, in which socio-political factors blended with almost supernatural aesthetic delirium. Simón Hernández was true weakness for red. So much so he decided to become a beret that, unlike the local color black, out of the color of blood. At first it only brought him become the object of all manner of taunts and jokes, but soon became a real fashion.

Simon Hernandez was a natural man and extremely sensitive dreamer who gave him some psychic fragility. Often this weakness made him fall into a trance. It is said that the first night they met in secret with Andrés Torrejón in the inn Gregorio, Simon had a vision. In it, the anchor was a creature Bourbon inbreeding and stolid unable to produce males. This inability to new conflicts arise in succession that they would plunge the oppressive Spain in the dark. Shortly before waking from the trance, if we pay attention to what Andrés Torrejón left written in one of his letters, Simon did not fail to exclaim "Red Berets against the Bourbons, against the Bourbon Red Berets."

Yes, my friend Ismael, the infamous Mayor Andrés Torrejón nobles with the revolutionary Simón Hernández were the drafters of what we now call Carlismo.