hate the corners of Eixample. So broad, so difficult to turn ... Every day I hate them more. How long will it save if you were straight! Fuck Ildefons Cerda and the mother who bore him. Who is he thinking? Turn right, to wait for traffic lights, zebra crossing, you reach the other block, turn again, follow. Yesterday I calculated: spending an average of one minute and sixteen second per corner. A rate of fifteen round corners turned fifteen, thirty-five minutes daily. Thirty-six hours per month. Eighteen days a year wasted ... Eighteen! Do you think someone my age could be wasting time so stupid? Antonio always says: "Wow, I see you live in the Guinardó to see how you complain to the slope. " Jordi says: "Well, come by bike, dammit, and tie in the bottom of light." To invalidate all, behind the bar, Obdulio repeated: "Why do not you get a bar close to your neighborhood, old stubborn?". But forty years ago I come to this bar on foot, take my carajillo and my Sovereign, and I will keep coming no matter what. What is it to change habits ... I am well, I've always been like that and you do not like to fuck. It is not my fault that every year the streets become wider, the whores corners are wider and the bar is Cantonada me more and more streets away. I do not know why everything makes me more distant every day, but who cares. I will continue that way until I die. With two balls.
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