Right Abdominal Spasms

beer and mop.

The skeleton came into the bar and ordered a beer and a mop. The bartender, grizzled and racist, he peeped at, it estimated an extra Community exceedingly thin and served without a smile. Seated at a table not far from the counter some customers arguing loudly, gesticulating, jumping from one issue to another. The skeleton, without ears, listening. One of them, tall, balding and with a swollen belly of the heavy drinker, he rose to quit smoking just after saying that his training would have to take the field Sunday after the meeting that the team, rather difficulties in recent times, had to pay the first in the standings. The others, among which animosity for the man of the meal, invited him to take care of something else. The bartender, wiping with a rag some neat glasses, nodded and sighed. The word passed to senior spin doctors that veered from football to politics. In those days, the Republic of words in the wind, kept the moral question bank linked to the intrinsic behavior of the little head of government. Engaged in repeated and repeated scandals that all thought except to resign. The group launched into a series of fierce criticism, while claiming to have voted in past elections, calling nano-old, overly rich, satyr, pork. Finally what we all knew that he ended by saying, perhaps, would do the same because, from time immemorial, man is a hunter. Then just maybe you repent in the confessional. They gave him absolution draining yet another Barbera. Then he went down in history. The practice of the sesquicentennial celebration of the unity of the country was carried out in two minutes, mixing with Socrates Garibaldi and Cavour with Maradona. Mazzini was confused with a Mazzinghi and swore he was prime Carnera to break through Porta Pia. Quickly flew over Piave, Karst and battles in the trenches to reach the last conflict that had involved the country in the world. All felt that it had been a tragic mistake that had fallen a good man down, inspired, he had at heart the fate of its people. "It is true that there was plagiarized by a madman, but in many places, thanks to the reclamation, eliminated malaria." concluded the man of the meal. Then one said, "Gentlemen, it's late. It 's almost time for dinner." All rose and, after paying the bill, moved toward the exit. Turning next to the skeleton, which quietly ended his beer, notary a series of numbers engraved on his bony forearm left. The spin doctors, curious as always, I asked why. The skeleton, dropping the cloth, in a faint voice, said, "Today is Memorial Day. I'm here to remind you."
"Sure," said the man of the meal "The gentleman is right. Seventy years have passed since the last championship of the Griffin, Thank you for reminding us." "Damn, we're just getting old. How can we forget the events of this kind. Where has the memory?" completed the spin doctors walking to the door. When everyone had left the skeleton picked up the rag soaked ground, gave it to the bartender and left. They threw it in disgust in a bucket there and forgot him.