yeI've TAKEN

YOUR CHEESE

Darrel Bristow-BOVEY

2Todavía I owe a beer to Darrel, but I will not say what he wants to say.

If life were an obstacle course, this book will not help you or to jump the first hurdle.

CARL LEWIS, athlete and Olympic medalist

First I will sheathe this book so that no damage and in the future, when you have grandchildren, I read it
like a story and say, 'This is what happens if you do not study law Terminals. "

JAMES BYE, the law firm of Bye, Bye, Baby & Co.

Reading this book has affected my life at all.

JOHN ROBBIE, former rugby player and star of radio and television

No Amazon Rainforest has been damaged during the preparation of this book.

STING

Darrel Bristow-Bovey is a writer too ... persistent.

Clare O'Donoghue, head of Style magazine

Darrel Bristow-Bovey writes with originality and style of authors such as ... ahem ... co-mo ...

JEREMY GORDIN, editor of the Sunday Independent

I always knew Darrel would write a book but never thought it would be about cheese. When I was little
did not care too much. He liked in macaroni, of course, like all children, but twenty years ago somebody
had told me: "Roslyn, on what will be the first book of your son?." I do not know what would have
answered but certainly not cheese. Maybe ice cream. A Darrel was very fond of ice cream.

ROSLYN BRISTOW BOVEY author's mother -

JEREMY MAGGS, presenter of the South African version of Want to Be a Millionaire.

I think Darrel Bristow-Bovey has a screw loose.

Tim Modise, radio announcer

I do not know who he is.

OPRAH WINFREY, TV presenter

A cold front is approaching.

Pippo Bontempo, Italian weatherman

This book was so impressed I ordered copies for all my employees, and the Na-tivity going to give it to all
my friends.

MARLENE FRYER, publisher of the book

Often I have considered changing my life, but thanks to Darrel will remain as I am until my dying day.

Bill, retired

Introduction .-

This is not another self-help manual. Really. I do not do such a thing. Why? .. Because the manual just
happy with the best of them self-esteem. They are like diets, or subscribing to the gym that give us our
birthday: fake, which he intends to help but basically laughing at us. We filled his head with promises
and hopes, but ultimately leave us depressed and nerves to dust.

As diets and gyms, self-help manuals sell you the illusion that it should do something to improve himself,
thanks to them we can find our inner child, lose or tie with great hostess or types that are lined and lead
a amazing cool car. If you follow his precepts, fortune will smile and the whole universe will love thee,
they say. In theory gives us wings, but be careful to get flying.

The self-help manuals do not work, for one simple reason: because they expect the reader to make all
the effort. It would be more honest than sell you a pen and a book with blank pages. (A proposal which,
incidentally, I asked my editor and not as successful as expected. And that I gave it all done, I brought a
packet of pages and a pen in my agency reception, but nothing.)

No matter how much promise it's easy, it's not hard, all self-help manuals based on the premise that the
reader will work. For example, at first glance may seem that the seven spiritual keys to success have
managed to condense several thousand years of universal philosophy into seven easily digestible snacks.
However, very light and they are, nobody can escape swallowing. There are seven keys to memorize (or
write them on hand) and, worse, try to implement them. The authors of manuals ever forget that-if we
can (or we had the slightest desire) to do all those things we advis-jan, happy not need to buy their
booklets.

If you are like me and I think everyone basically what we are, "do not want to strive for better people-
will pour. Humans are a bit like Siberia, the beach at Beni-dorm or the Millennium Dome in London: you
can not do much to improve them. How-do you realize the problem and is often late, and no choice but
to throw everything and start from scratch. Personally, I (I'm not Siberia, or the beach in Benidorm, or
the Do-mo Millennium London-though my friends tell me that I look a little profile to the latter-) step
favor.
So I wrote this book to say that there is nothing wrong in thinking so. Come, sing with me: "We are lazy,
we are useless, we do not move ... What's up?. '. Although not recognized, we are the most important
stratum of society, the foundation on which sits any civilized people. We are the majority who do not
believe in doing just slaughter to achieve a smoother belly or a happier spirit. We have always been
there and we will be when those fans of a better life have passed away.

Moreover, we have to be ashamed. We are the best in this mad world: we do not dedicate ourselves to
invade neighboring countries or to form political parties, or to invent monster-ments such as Big Brother
or mobile phones with the little tune from The Good, The Bad and the Ugly. We just want to be left in
peace to eat well, live well and make love to beautiful people. As much, maybe we skip some traffic
regulations, but we were never oc-rriría break the laws of nature. Ours is quietly get carried away by the
natural evolution of the species.

If not for us, the world would be much worse. We are, for example, major-makers of any interesting
topic of conversation. The witty aphorism, the little biting gossip and commentary were all invented by
people like us: people interested in obtaining the maximum effect with minimum effort. But for us, to-
dos would be doing exercise, seeking the light, facing change and other drivel like that. If not for us, the
world would collapse from sheer boredom.

Clearly we must not be overconfident. As a Stegosaurier or fondue with-you-nedorcitos to play that

nobody wants, not kid ourselves, if we fail to adapt to new times is-ing, we are doomed to extinction.
Steven Spielberg made a movie about us. We need to be attractive to retain our partners, and acquire
wealth and health to grow and reproduce in order to pass our genes to future generations apathetic.

This is where this book. If you seek easy tips to make you people fabu-slabs with a perfect life, and you
can close it immediately, because you'll be interested (although if you want to buy a few copies to give
to your friends, do not cor-TEIs). This is the manual for people who do not want to try, for those
unwilling or le-vantar the sofa. If you are born lazy, this manual will explain how to improve without te-
ner to make the slightest effort.

Not to do, is not even necessary that you read it. Only comprároslo and place it on a site

clearly visible from the house, you will feel more happy, intelligent and desirable. This is due to a re-
revolutionary treatment that we gave to the paper, a chemical compound that we have given the name
of Osmósix and that may well be inhaled from a horizontal posi-tion. In the northern hemisphere
countries, the Osmósix is identified by a faint odor of frying oil. In the southern hemisphere is
characterized by a slight whiff of Roquefort.

In addition to the back of the book Osmósix we offer a series of blank pages. Apart from serving for the
volume appears thicker on the shelves, these pages will allow you read so-gir-on the beach or in the
subway, when in fact the view and rest ye pen-sando in the last episode of Sex in New York.
Incidentally, if by chance you happen to share this book with your partner, your family members or
colleagues, I must warn you Osmósix is a highly sophisticated, like a leech, stick to the chemical
composition of the first person to Open the book and breathe its intense perfume. The Osmósix work
only with who you bought, so that husbands or secretaries must purchase their own copy. Obviously this
will not make them happy but us. In fact, in the publishing scene, the smell of Osmo-six reminds us that
of the fresh from the bank notes.

So follow me, brothers and sisters, and walk towards a happier world (or a world-do that, at least, our
cowardice go completely unnoticed). And as we advanced, remember our mantra, entonadlo aloud,
print it and set it in the refrigerator or glove compartment, or inside tatuároslo eyelids to read it while
dor-my nap. If you want, you can take off your shirt, remove the drums and sing to the beat of tom-tom
(although if you decide to jump around half naked, I pray you cerréis blinds that you may not see the
neighbors).

Ready? .. No? .. Oh, sorry. I thought I told you of them. Our mantra is: "Everything can be faked.". You
can add all the who, ahs and screams that you want, but the basics are this: everything can be faked
(except the lack of sincerity, I suppose. It's hard to feign lack of non-CERIDE. Oh, and have beautiful hair .
Unfortunately, or you have beautiful hair or you do not. But beyond that, the mantra does not fail).

Ready?. Ready?. Go ahead.

Search and find .-

It is not easy to be vague at this time (well, neither this nor any). The super busy have not the faintest
idea what it costs to do nothing. Indeed, friends, requires patience, dedication and a firm refusal to
enter reasons. Only we are aware of the discipline and energy it takes to dedicate to our art (God, what
cross ours ...).

Today there is more pressure than ever to improve: to look more handsome, meditate more, drink less
and rise to the height of the angels. Of vertigo. Even I, as a jo-ven more dynamic, I fell into the trap of
going through the secret world in search of a better life.

I traveled to South America, the torrid desert of Atacama in Chile, where I was told I lived a very wise
man. I could not lose, I told the people there, while a mountain and showed me a narrow path between
rocks and boulders. I was told that the sage was a bearded old man who steps out from behind a rock
and when I reached the steepest part, I shoot her ripe mangoes.

- Where does the handles if you live in the desert?. "I asked. The locals hung his head and drew pictures
in the sand with your toes.

"The ways of old mountain are inscrutable," she replied.

So I took a backpack and a raincoat and started to climb the mountain. Towards a dry heat, which was
expected to be in the desert. When I reached the steepest part, I covered my head with waterproof
(because nobody likes to be riddled with tropical fruit), but the old man of the mountains showed no
signs of life. So this was the first lesson I learned:

I expected the worst, but now that the worst has not happened, I am disappointed. So I am the architect
of my own desen-canto.

But the truth is that this was the second lesson. The first was:

If you climb the steeper side of a mountain with an imper-meable to the head, you will not see where
you go and crush the shins.

So I took off my raincoat and while I rubbed my shins, I saw a corni-sa in the rock. Sitting there, legs
crossed and eyes closed, was an old-joso andra also a ragged beard. Gasping, I fell to his knees, partly
because the old res-respect and partly because they were brought Cuestecita, oxygen was scarce and
none of the villagers had tried to sell coca leaves. When I regained my breath, I reached this important
conclusion (which I wrote in the sand with his finger, then if I forgot):

If we are not afraid to throw his head tropical fruits, vere-ing more clearly the wealth that is before their
noses.

I was not sure what to say to the mountain sage, who was still breathing deep-mately with eyes closed,
as do the wise men of the mountains and animals in hibernation. Finally, with trembling hands, I threw a
little loincloth.

The old mountain started and opened his eyes intense and gilded glasses of whiskey. Looking up to
heaven, uttered the following words:

- What the hell?.

"I am your humble pilgrim," I replied, pulling at his feet.

- How have you climbed the steepest part without me you hear?. asked the old man, who used to kick
my head position.

Despite the surprise was not offended me, because I understand that the ancient sages can be a bit
churlish. Once, my good friend Chunk visited a sage in the hot jungles of Laos: the old man lost his
temper after a chess game to my friend and beaten with a bamboo reed. "Sometimes," he said chunk
lessons of the wise is a little duri-llas. "

So I wrote another lesson in the dust with his finger:

Fear not discover that your heroes have feet of clay, so it will not hurt as much when you kick in the
head.
Fortunately, the old mountain immediately stopped and began to kick me back to your ifs-ta.

"Master," I implored. I am at your service.

"Well, if you're in my service," he said adjusting his loincloth-ve to monitor whether other pilgrims
come. Here I have handles for a week and do not want to spoil me.

"But teacher, I have come to learn from you.

The old man tried to hit me again but I grabbed the leg, twisted it and I knocked him down.

While recovering, I had time to write the next lesson in the sand:

Wisdom does not fall from heaven like mangoes. Sometimes you have to catch her and break it down.
Do not be afraid to confront the wisdom: if it takes a long time sitting on a mountain with legs cru-ised,
will be a little dehydrated and will be easy to master.

Okay, okay, "muttered the old man of the mountain. If I loose, I will answer all your questions.

So, we sat facing each other and peace reigned between us.

- How does one become a sage of the mountain?.

The old man shrugged and stroked his beard.

"It's difficult," said, then told me the story of his life: When I was a young man like you, too was in search
of wisdom. One day I met a man who claimed to be the philosopher Carlos Castaneda, but now that I
think, maybe it was Carlos Santana. (Everybody said it was a very smart guy who played guitar very
well.) Well, when that Carlos gave me a piece of chewing cactus, I thought, 'If this man is so lis-to, why
do not you remove the skewers before stuffing it in your mouth?. '. However, by that time I was young
and I loved the hallucinogenic drugs, so I ate the cactus.

Then I came up with a series of extraordinary things. First, he revealed the secre-ing the life and death
(which quickly wrote with his finger in the sand, but you know what the problem is: no you can take it
home). Then after my view of life and death, I saw a terrifying demon as Snoopy.

"Snoopy?. I asked in surprise.

Yes, the puppy that. It's not as innocent as it seems. Snoopy chased me and I fled. At those moments I
was in Mexico and fled with that infernal beast heels to reach Chile. I guess then the cactus stopped me
because Snoopy effect disappeared. Because she was so tired, I decided to stay to recover energy.
Surprised-rá, but rents in Chile are not as cheap as it seems, so when I found this ledge in the mountains,
I did not think twice. It is quite comfortable, except when it rains or when the rattlesnakes come to take
refuge from the cold night and I snuggle into my armpits.
- And it rains a lot?. I asked.

"Twenty years ago not a drop," he replied with the confident smile of a man who has invested wisely in
real estate.

"But how was wise?. "I insisted.

"Ah, yes," with indifference ---. He had been living here a while, eating condor eggs and wondering what
to do. I was thinking about going to Patagonia to write a travel book, or to mount a Broadway musical
when I heard voices coming from the mountain-dera. There were three men from the village coming up
with a basketful of provi-tions, including a huge cheese flame. Cheese is my weakness flame.

- Oh, yeah?. I find it a bit sour.

He goes. You must learn to appreciate good cheese, man Well, I was offered the committee gives in
exchange a few words of wisdom. I said I did not know any, that at most could recite the first two
stanzas of Yesterday. They nodded, so I did, and left so happy. That's when I realized I did not know a
word of English. Curiously not seem to mind and every day more people leave the town with baskets of
food and sat and listened Yesterday, when I wanted a change, Ob-la-di Ob-la-da.

After hearing this story, I agreed and wrote the following lesson in the sand:

Sometimes it is necessary to acquire knowledge through teaching. Sometimes only be near to wisdom.
And sometimes not even need to find the slightest sense.

, To be your sincere, was beginning to get fed up with writing these lessons in the sand. He also began to
doubt some of it worthwhile to keep listening to the old sage of Mon-tana. It was time to go.

"One last thing - I said. Why handles?.

The old mountain winked.

"Everybody needs a gimmick," he replied. I know a guy who sells fruit and brings me a basket every
week. Comes in his Peugeot on a road behind the mountain to see it not the people. Lately I want to go
to the Peach-tions, are more expensive, but more cuddly and come in a can, so you are kept longer.

I nodded and began the long descent to the inhabited world, with the feeling that something bad would
happen. He was right to be a decrepit old man, had enough strength in his arms gave me a few peaches
to the head. In part I understand your hostility (no one likes to twist the leg), but I wanted that formerly
would have pulled out of the can.

I wish this were the end of the story, but unfortunately it is not. For a few years, I kept stumbling in the
world in search of wisdom. Every time I felt less in-tusiasmado until finally one day while I was in a
blizzard on a barge in the Pacific, I thought, 'I'm tired. I'm going home: there'll be warm and I can watch
TV. "

So I bought the return ticket. While killing time in airports to bookstore, I noticed a book on the shelf of
best sellers. Appeared on the cover photo of a man. "One moment. I thought. I to that face, I know. "

Indeed, although he knew the last time you saw the speech was much more colorful and dirty. The book
was called "Tell the Mountain". Ten lessons learned during my ca-mino perfection ", and on the cover
wearing a star-shaped sticker with the phrase:" More than one million copies sold. ". At first I did not
open it, but finally I took courage. The first chapter began with the following title:

"If we are not afraid to throw his head tropical fruits, we will see more clearly the rich-ness that is
before our eyes."

I closed the book and got on the plane. On the way home, I memorized the next lesson that I will not
forget or write in the sand:

If you lack wisdom itself, read self-help books will not be "Turn of anything, so you must write them
yourself.

Find your egg .-

As you have seen us, the gurus of the mountains we are useless. In fact do not serve anyone, but for
which we are lazy by nature are especially useless. Although it may be true gurus (instead of cranks
unshaven outdoor living), will cost you both find that when you succeed, you will be tired and wanting
to go home. Luckily, I know a story that teaches us everything we need to learn.

Pay attention. This is a simple parable that will touch your heart, I assure you.

It also incorporates traditional elements of an endangered culture, which I understand is very

fashionable. The culture to which I refer is that of the indigenous peoples of southern Africa. You can call
or Bushmen 'Xam' or you can use the name they use but then neither you nor I can pronounce it, so you
will not know what the hell are talking about. Well, the point is that there is no doubt that they are the
oldest race of this old continent and, therefore, know a few things in life.

One day, during a bus trip, I sat next to a bushman, a wrinkled old man wearing a fur coat as the only
clothing antelope. That dress looked so precariously under his body, torn out in passing that he feared
his side to go to the toilet. However, apart from a burst bladder, the wrinkled old man left me

10

a valuable gift: a fable that I have shared with many people. The bitter-REPORTING them useful and I
hope you do too.

The history of egg .-

For many, many moons, when animals still reigned over the Earth and humans roamed the mountains,
was a young man named Pu Xam. . (That was his name. I swear. But if you can call it distracts Xam).

Xam was young but very good hunter. He was able to keep track of an ostrich on a plain stony
blindfolded with the loincloth (which always impress the girls) and was very handy with the gun. In the
evenings I used to pant and puff on the bed and, when her mother asked, "What are you doing?. ', He
replied:" I practiced the art of the gun. She always answered: "Very good, but put your hands where I
see them.

Xam dreamed of an elephant hunt in the desert, believing strongly that a young hunter will only become
a real man when he managed to trace and powerful animal that got killed.

Have you heard this story?. Do you dream you to hunt desert elephant?. Jadeas and puff "in bed?. Of
course, your desert elephant perhaps not a real elephant. These al-tures I think we can reveal, without
fear of spoiling the end of the story, the elephant of the desert is a metaphor. Maybe not live near a
desert. Maybe your elephant is a presti-gious German car. Or perhaps the case of success, fame and
admiration of your peers. Or maybe Miss Gomez, your history teacher in fifth. There are so many
elephants as you cheese-pos. Well, probably even more.

One day some kids a little older Xam addressed, "Let's go in search of ele-Fante desert and not return to
within several days and nights. We want you to come with us. You are very good with the gun and you
never know, maybe we encounter an ostrich and a stony plain, though, if I may prefer to do without the
antics of the loincloth. "

With hearts full of joy, Xam was to ask permission from his mother. And his mother said, 'No way. "

And Xam said, "Okay, but can I stay and sleep in my friend's cabin Ket Par?.

And his mother said. "Okay, but if you return within a month of desert dragging an elephant, you know
what is good. "

Obviously Xam joined the boys a little older and began his journey in search of desert elephant powerful.
Despite equo traveling light as was common at that time, loaded with ostrich eggs that had been
emptied and filled with water, and ce-rrándolos then a leather cap. As they progressed through the wide
plains, each was ostrich burying their eggs and leaving a mark on the sand.

11

Is it so your life?. Do you leave behind important things, perhaps even important people, hoping to find
them again later?. (I've made several laps, but still do not quite understand what the signs mean in the
analogy. However, I could not de-jar out because, as we shall see, are central to the story.)

As he left the house hurriedly, Xam only had time to take the shell of an ostrich egg: one buried under a
huge baobab.
It took many days and nights, and young people followed over the burning sands of the African desert
only stopped when they reached the sea, and yet had been pulled down to his knees when one of them
suggested it was time to turn back .

During the return trip, they saw the traces of the powerful desert elephant and set off on his quest. They
walked, and walked on the trail. A few days later, one of the boys a little more throat clearing, patted on
the back and asked Xam.

"Hey, are you sure we're headed in the right direction?.

Everyone stopped and looked at each other.

- What do you mean?. Xam asked, a little defensively.

- Are we sure what part of the footprint of the elephant of the desert is the front and which part is the
back?.

The other boys turned to look and then looked to Xam. He examined the trace.

"Well ... - said slowly and stopped because I did not know what to say.

- Have you ever seen an elephant footprint in the desert?. 'said the boys.

Xam, which until then had thought that one of the boys was driving, looked down slowly and stared at
the sand.

"Not exactly ...

Then there was an ugly scene which saw it all: scratching, kicking, biting and even cursed When it was
over, began the long march back home.

"We could trace the elephant in the other direction," someone suggested quietly, though everyone was
glad not to repeat it.

Ever thought of something similar?. Have you followed your elephant to the depths of the wilderness
before you discover that you did not know if were going or coming?. Yes?. Then you have taken a
beating of your friends ... No?. Ah well, that means you've chosen well.

12

So the boys resumed their march through the desert. While going through a stony plain, seemed to Xam
seeing traces of an ostrich in the desert. He looked up, and was about to say something. However,
realizing that the other kids threw him a look, decided to shut their mouths.

Occasionally, one of the boys recognized a pile of pebbles or a twisted arm, digging in the sand to
remove the egg that had been buried and drinking water or shared with a friend. However, nobody
offered him water to Xam who lived in the liquid obtained by squeezing small lizards and scorpions. Not
bad, but it was not the same as a hue-vo giant water-filled. In addition, squeeze juice from a scorpion
there is nothing funny: do not twist much like lizards but have quite a bad temper. At such times He
recalled that his mother would be waiting in the cave, wishing he had gone.

Then, when they reached the most torrid, arid desert, it was a mighty wind Storms that covered
everything with a thick layer of sand. All signals were hidden and no one could find ostrich eggs.

They walked under a scorching sun each day until one morning Xam-bro vislum coiled branches of a
baobab tree: the baobab. Ran across the hot sand, knelt under the tree and began digging until he found
the huge egg that had been home. At the lift, he noticed that weighed less than before. Then he knew
why., Leather cap had come off and all water had spilled on the sand.

I guess that you also have happened to you sometime. That happened to me. No doubt at some point
you have not chewed enough your piece of leather and, because of this, you have been detached from
the ostrich egg in the wrong time. But wait: this is the most im-portant. Listen and watch Xam cope.

Despite feeling miserable for not having found water, Xam did not want his classmates teased him or
oppressed him more, so I returned to cover the egg carefully and took him to where his friends. All
looked at him waiting for him to put drinking water defiantly. However, he did not. Just put it under his
arm and, without a word walked on with the rest.

As they walked, the others watched from the corner of the eye, waiting for a drink of egg. But they were
wrong. Occasionally eggs are passed from one arm to another, as if it weighed a lot, but still did not
drink or say anything.

The others were perplexed and wondered: "Why not drink the ostrich egg?. '. Until one of them said:

"Maybe he knows something we do not know. Perhaps you know that we are far from home and you
need the egg to survive later in the trip back to the desert.

Another ventured:

"Perhaps she's being noble. May not want to drink while we are passing thirst.

13

And everyone thought:

"Maybe if you give me water treatment well. I want water!. "

So everyone began to behave differently: they returned to speak, shared-ing with him their pieces of
antelope meat dry and helped to hunt lizards and scorpions to extract the juice. One of the older boys
even offered him: "When we get home, would you like to go out with my sister?. He's younger than it
looks. »
They all offered to take the ostrich egg, but Xam, no matter how bad tracker ele-elephants that was, was
stupid and not always politely declined. And of course, the less he spoke, others were more convinced
that he kept a big secret.

Upon arriving home, the rest of the community immediately object that we slightly older boys were
waiting for everything he did or said Xam. They noted that always shared a meal with him, and offered
to sweep the stones and branches on the floor before bedtime.

They noticed this and many other details, which his respect for Xam grew. Over time, Xam became the
most respected and powerful man in the community.

Thus, Aam lived happily and ate partridges (well, ostrich) until the day of his death.

So what lessons can we draw from the fable of Xam and ostrich egg?. The response is that this story
does not contain a single lesson, but all secrets of life. Why?. Because it shows that it is necessary that
your elephant caces desert to succeed in life. You need not win the marathon, or to find Moby Dick or
accus-tarte with Jennifer Lopez (who may be very good but maybe in bed is not worth a damn). The
truth is that you need not get anything in life you just have to pretend to know.

Within all of us is our true self, a self that is as empty as the eggshell history. We just have to accept that
void and give others the opportunity to fill it mentally. Other, do not forget, are much more insecure
than non-Sotra. They fill the niche, and if they do, no matter how well you do the co-sas. In conclusion,
my friends, this is what we all do: to find our egg in-anterior.

Find your partner .-

The egg inside can help in many situations. Take love, for example. Or that feeling of warmth and itching
is called love in front of our partners. All

14

world looking for love, or at least something to relieve the itching. As the song says, love is a wonderful
thing.

(Not like the whiskey, which is a marvel of thing. Anyway love is better than whiskey because ... in a
moment, I had written somewhere ... Ah, yes ... because with the whiskey you can sometimes run out of
ice, and then you have to go ask the neighbor. also often happens that, while you enjoy your drink, you
forget what time it is because you lose track of time, so without wanting what wake up and then the guy
yells at you and you re-string that will return the Sunday that you stole the mailbox the other day and
finally you replied that you'll burn the house because you always emboldens whiskey-and without
Somehow, the situation gets out. Love does not cause anything like that. Well, maybe something similar,
but almost never just a shouting match with the neighbor, unless you're making love in a too
enthusiastic as he is trying to see the Miss the Uni-verse TV.)
To which we love is good. Everyone speaks well of the subject, especially Shakespeare, who apparently
liked a lot. According to him, love is a red, red rose. Or maybe that he wrote another, I'm not sure.
Anyway, it is clear that love can be very beneficial as he leads us to reject that last drink before driving,
obli-ga us to brush our teeth before bed, or deters us from playing the clown at dinners work.

In addition, experts say, the feeling of love helps reduce cholesterol.

(In my experience, this is because my loved ones will not let me fried eggs and bacon breakfast but, well,
if the experts say ...)

There is no denying that love also has detrimental effects because it has inspired many of the albums of
Celine Dion and most of the statements of Michael Jackson, and is responsible for the existence of the
attorneys divorce, cakes six-story wedding and Valentine's Day. But let us not dwell on the negative.

The hardest part of love is to find someone to let you give a fool, romp laugh and whisper in his ear. This
has been the problem of human beings for centuries. For women has always been difficult, since over
history have had to shout-ing relief Torreo medieval fear spending in caves of dragons or stripping in
seedy slums waiting for a knight's rescue or a wealthy Japanese executive. However, it also is difficult for
men, especially for those who-like me and like you probably are not knights-errant or wealthy Japanese
executive-ses.

(I confess that this chapter is devoted mostly to all men in the world, but women can also read it. If you
do not, that is if you jump you and pass it to the next section, the book will end before your partner that
with a bit of luck,-ing is now lying beside you reading your own copy. This book has been carefully di-
Senate to be completed simultaneously, since it seems more intimate,

15

but if you make the effort to pursue the independent route, I pray not only that the poor man estropeéis
the final surprise.)

Regarding the issue of looking for a mate, the recommendations have been many and va-floods
throughout history.

--

Get a big stick, furs and go as it should once and for all of the cave of your parents told him to
Australopithecus.

-Get a feud and a village filled with loyal subjects whose girlfriends you can lay down on her wedding
night, "he told the medieval man. (Incidentally, I have always dreamed of, with an aftershave lotion is
called Droit de Seigneur [ 'droit du seigneur ", but did not divulge]. Why has not been produced yet.")

-Get a job, a car and a navy blue suit, "he told the man of fifty years account.
-Get yourself a mane and a drug, "he told the man of the sixties. (In fact, the drug goes for any time from
then until the present.)

-Get a little rhythm in the body, a striking necklace, a beard and sideburns, and a shirt of highly
flammable synthetic fabric, "she told the man of the seventies. Oh, and do not forget drugs.

-Get a fax, cordless phone, a subscription to the gym, work that re-sult impossible to explain, a car above
your means and, of course, drugs, gas rigor, "he told the man of the eighties . (What's "your car over
possibilities" also served from then until the present.)

-Get yourself a subscription to a women's magazine, your own reflexologist, a professor of gymnastics
particular, a range of cosmetics for men, a job with which you feel rea-ized, a penchant for unleashing
your creativity, a mobile that you should not answer if you like, the ability to cook at least three dishes
that are not toast or eggs fri-cough, a perfect haircut and a camel to make home deliveries, "he said to
man the nineties.

You will have noticed that the list of requirements has been increasing over the years. And that is
because women have become much more demanding, because If you look at the types impresentables
and disgusting that look gorgeous girls arm, share my suspicion that women rarely ask them anything to
these men that selection of inexplicable way. No, the list of petitions has increased because these are
the requirements that we are doing ourselves. Unbelievable but true.

Us who started to say: "Yes, honey, you're right. It is true that we are a simple and superficial. It is true
that we need to add color to our locker room and depth to our life in order to worship the goddess in
you. Look at me: I cook pla-ments that include the word "balsamic" in their name, and at the same time
earn a good soil -

16

do, and even go to the gym to avoid tummy!. Try it, if I can even tell you what is feng-shui, and even
pronounce it correctly (I think)!. Love me Do not you see that I can even comment on decor?!. Please,
can I borrow CwG when you finish reading it?. "

And the women thought, "God.". Because we did not imagine that ingesting that nonsense. Not even
themselves believe them. However, before such an offer of unilateral disarmament, did not hesitate and
answered in unison: "Perfect!". "

If it had not answered that they would have been silly. And of course, women can be mu-chas things,
but not stupid. It is as if the Russians had called for Reagan in the eighties and had told him: "Comrade,
we have thought better and we have decided to maintain these weapons and nuclear missiles is too
much effort, so let desman-telarlas and throwing the sea. Unless you the wish. Do you do well that we
mail them to you?. So you can add to your arsenal. Even pay the postage. Oh, and incidentally, also we
will not drink vodka. What do you think?. "
It is unlikely that Reagan responded: "No, tranquis. He would miss the other superpower have here. In
addition, there are many parts of our relationship that we have not exploi-rado. Some time ago we
wanted to test biological warfare. "

That is, not surprisingly, they accepted our offer, but the result has been fatal to us. Because, surprise!.,
It does not work. Or at least not for men. Enhance is too hard, especially when each chromosome is
reminding you-do: "This is not an improvement!. Eras (a man) better if you used olive oil in aero-sol!.
Eras (a man) so much better when you thought the sushi was a Japanese cartoon!. "

It represents too much effort, and to top it often go wrong, so you just feeling failed and your sex life
suffers. And even if you do well, the rewards hardly worth it. Men get depressed and we are just little
men and sublimating our desires doing other things that end up being even less attractive. For example,
rather than spend Sunday watching football, seeing we had a Formula 1 racing and pretending that
interest us.

Instead of admitting: "I will not talk about our relationship," say "I love to talk about our relationship,
but from my biorhythms at the moment I'm at a very emotional and I would not spoil this moment with
a tantrum so positive that I carried out, slamming the door and who knows, maybe end up in a
striptease bar watching and drinking like a fish. "

And women are also met. Why?. Because, for some strange reason, women like men. For centuries we
have enjoyed as we are. No, I do not understand. It's one of those mysteries of life, as the operation of
remote control or the fact that the lights change all at once: we must accept, as an act of faith. If we
stop to question them comes chaos. And that is exactly what we did: issues, try to improve. (Which
brings me back to my thesis: do not try to improve. Not worth it!.)

17

Now that we men know that women learned to love talking-to and resent resentment with love, they
are so confused and apathetic as we are. For the poor is even worse, because they have finally gotten
what they wanted, and horror!. have found that NO is what I wanted. Right now they are thinking,
"Really, in the depths of my being, I share my life with someone who is interested in the roman-ce
between Ally McBeal and Robert Downey Jr. character?. Are not the non-preferred spending che con
Robert Downey Jr. himself?. I know that drug and not much at home but do not know why, I find the
most attractive. "

So my advice to the men of the new millennium is simple and minimalist Scandinavian furniture (an
analogy that will fully understand unfortunately most men of the new millennium). My advice is: look
inside your egg.

I repeat: look inside your egg.

Well, okay. I know I've just started and may need further explanation. Remember to Xam and ostrich
egg?. Do you remember how you kept and everyone wondered what was his secret?. If the ostrich egg
had been filled with water, and it is Xam had drunk, or shared, or doubted what to do with it, would not
have become the prune-rous man of the tribe. A secret force only when it is secret.

If we take care of that ostrich egg in all of us, if we protect and we ne-buck round to explore the interior,
others begin to imagine its contents. Women, especially, prefer their own images of who we are. (With
good reason, because what they imagine is infinitely more interesting and attractive to our identity re-
al.)

Listen then, my words, instead of trying to improve, reap the benefits of letting others make those
improvements. Cultivate knowing look, the mysterious smile and frown suddenly, as if remembering
words heard long ago from the mouth of someone completely different. Until just stand with the face of
stupid, and while not all laugh at you, little by little they intuit depths and dimensions to your character
that you would have never imagined (let alone achieved through a program of self-improvement pucero
cha).

I'll tell you an anecdote to illustrate the dangers of speaking too. My friend Chun-ko is an eternal
optimist on the subject of women and, worse still, I must admit that tie-ne initiative. He spends much of
his time in shops and bowling waiting to meet girls. (Why are bowling, you may ask?. I have no idea. I
said that Chunk had initiative, not intelligence.)

Last year we spent hours and hours in the local bookshop, to no avail. "Women do not frequent the
fishing section," he grumbled. And if you get in the sec-tion of self-help manuals, you only know the type
of woman who reads self-help manuals. "

18

His last idea was the supermarket. I teased, but he offered me a very convincing argument: "If you come
with me, then I'll buy you another drink.". So, one Saturday attacked the ma-nana super neighborhood.

"What we have to do is improve our technique of conquest," said chunk.

I bet the fresh food section, thinking that fruits and vegetables could provide a long walk to bind. Then
came the first candidate, a pre-looking girl sentable and hair clean. While I swarming there, she took a
papaya and gave me the impres-sion that I was smiling. I gave thanks to the Lord, papayas are an ideal
subject starts up a conversation with a girl.

I moved a little and let go:

"They are typical of tropical countries, but also domesticity living in temperate-two and learn to repeat
words and sentences.

The girl looked at his face and his smile faded.

"I think it is wrong," he replied. I think it has attempted to link with me talking about the pa-paya, a
tropical fruit of generally oblong shape and sweet yellow flesh. However, you mentioned the parrot, a
bird of the Psittaciformes order, strong, curved beak, plumage yellowish green head and body.
How to react to such a response?. Do you think you should have smiled mysteriously mind and going
away discreetly, without making clear whether he was talking about papayas?. Or should he stammered
something like, "Oh yeah?. I did not know that parrots have yellow plumage on the head ... How
interesting. ". I leave you to guess which option I decant. I am only the author of this book: anyone not
able to follow all his teachings.

My only consolation consolation of fools, I know, is that in the frozen food section, a chunk also not
things going well. While hovering near-frozen patties with, noticed a woman with a somewhat low-cut
dress. When she went to pick up a tray of chicken legs, he managed to their hands will run.

The woman took his quickly.

"This ... - Chunk-yo said ...

She took pity on him and offered him an escape:

- Do you want your thighs?.

Chunk grinned from ear to ear. My blood ran cold to me, but I could not do anything. When Chunk
means something, no one will street.

"No thanks" he said, looking at her cleavage and winking. I prefer chicken.

19

Keep the couple .-

Come to think of this story is not very illuminating. Well, whatever. From to-two modes, if you ignore me
and follow my advice, you'll find that soon you will have ac-dents to your partner. But do not rest on our
laurels, brother. More difficult to achieve is to preserve it. Search your interior, feel the smooth surface
of your egg, give him a pat and hear how it sounds hollow.

My first suggestion is to wait a bit to take home to your latest conquest (without running, because if you
keep imagining that women end up dismembered in freezers. Or worse, a wife). And when finally the
invite, make sure everything is clean and tidy. If you insist on having decorative elements that are
important enigma-tical, as a collection of butterflies, or a stuffed alligator, or impersonal-les
mysteriously, like a chessboard with pieces of carved ivory.

Do not forget to hide your wonderful collection of beer cans from around the world, or so funny that
poster with all the sexual positions, or with their Playstation game cartridges. The same goes for any
photo of you and your friends pulled in:

a) a football stadium, b) a bachelor party, especially if you explain that you are "he who carries the
garbage can in the head ', c) any circumstance in which short-lion luzcas panta (whether football match
hiking in the mountains or the beach). Unless you have the Champions Cup in hand, avoids any image
you show yours in the legs.
On the contrary, it is always acceptable to leave in a visible place your framed photo receiving an Oscar
or the Nobel Peace Prize, especially if you are a bit skewed towards the wall as a sign of modesty and
then if you respond to her questions with a nod of indifference and confusion sa smiled on the lips. But
eye, this only if you have won an Oscar or a Nobel truth (none of that plastic figurines gives people "the
most binge" or "When I burp-jor).

Furthermore, silence and mystery are always attractive. I would say even more: attractive people always
silent. Think of silent men: Clint Eastwood, Batman, or that bad of James Bond with steel teeth. Now
think of those who talk up a storm: Woo-dy Allen, Porky Pig, or that heavy office who spends the day
explaining how ul-tima installment of Star Wars will explore the transition to Darth Vader dark side.
Clearly, no?.

Be smart. When she asks you "What are you thinking?. '. (which no doubt will), con-siders your answer
carefully.

Do not say: "In you" because it is pathetic and has no hint of mystery.

Do not say either: "As much I love you", because apart from being a lie, waste-ras one of the last
remaining cards you play. One day you'll need to get out of trouble, and then you'll be glad you have
booked.

20

You might say: "I was thinking how much I want to rip your clothes with his teeth and challenge-zar you
over the carpet.". But be careful what you wish for.

Nor do I recommend you to be honest. "In the hour of Saturday's match 'or' That Ruidi-to that makes
the engine when I go to one hundred and twenty" are answers that reveal too much, do. Do not risk or
give too many clues. Look out the window and drop something like: "To think that Mozart / Einstein /
Indira Gandhi the same moon lit ... »

High. Do not think you will believe you. She knows that you're not thinking in the TIME-po, space and
the mysteries of the universe, but that's not important. See if you is clear: she does not want to know
what you're thinking. What you want is a blank page where you can draw the man of her dreams. So,
friends, sing with me: "Let us accept our internal egg."

Find your inner Maya .-

At this point I think it starts to get a clear idea of ostrich eggs inside. Takes a bit to catch him the trick,
but when you get dominated, you will have the world-ters vues feet. However, go with care: danger
lurks. There are many people who can not accept the concept of the egg / hollow interior. We are so
afraid that they will never cease to fill, no matter what.

Be cautious colleagues. If you trust you too, at the first opportunity you can fill the egg with all kinds of
junk. What do I mean?. Do not be silly: it is clear what I mean. Just go to the bookstore on the corner
and take a look at what is offered. Everywhere there are new items with which to fill our emptiness.
Wherever you look you will see a newly discovered river of wisdom waiting to enter you, if permitted.

Each season comes something new. The latter has been feng-shui, which is the most absurd thing in the
world. For those who do not know, is that the latest fad in the West is a series of tiny, poorly edited
books that teach us to place the furniture in the same way they do in China. Please.

Everywhere people turn to hang mirrors in the hall, or hook, I can not remember. I know a woman who
was covering the corners of the dining room table with clay to (I swear I did not invent it) 'rounding,
which allows energy to flow freely through the house. Madam, if I really had energy flowing freely
through the house, which is tariat need an electrician, an exorcist or a lightning rod.

Who says the East are experts in achieving success through the decora-tion?. I doubt the Japanese
Defense Ministry employ feng shui when his generals came up with the brilliant idea of Pearl Harbor.

As for the Chinese, can you imagine Chairman Mao symmetrically placing the ornaments and lighting
points before pointing red notebook in his ideas?. Let's see:

1. Tell intellectuals to work in rice fields. 2. By the way, give them a good beating.

21

3. Hang posters with my face. 4. Check if the sofa is perpendicular to the wall. Or had to be parallel?. I
can not remember.

5. Taking an intellectual paddy rules for placing sofas write them and I will not forget next time. 6. The
intellectual shoot for anyone else besides me is-my rules put sofas.

Also, here things are different. What works well in a pagoda sa Japaneseness, for example, it may not be
as well in a Western home. Trust me, do not you dare build your home like a Japanese pagoda. Have you
seen the size they have?. You will spend your life pegandote against the door frame, leaning against the
walls and cayéndote out because they're made of paper. Worse, in the mo-bile Japanese need my
favorite piece of furniture: the chair with backrest Redin, adjustable footrests and receptacle for beer in
the arm.

We should have learned their lesson after the fashion of bonsai, but no. And speaking of the East, the
next person who looks at me dirty looks when I reject the pali-opments in a Chinese restaurant, will
know who I am. Only I say it again: the reason why we eat with a fork in the West is that centuries ago
discovered that four sharp points are more effective food-handling two blunt sticks. When I choose the
fork I'm not being closed, but I just take advantage of technological advances, dammit.

However, the feng-shui is not the only stuffed egg: there are many more. The other day, without going
any further, I found another. I was browsing in the bookstore the neighborhood - perhaps the one
where you bought this book when I was approached by a young woman with a book section Nove-dades
publishers. Have you read this?. she asked, seductively ---. Will change your life. These are the lost
wisdom of the ancient Maya.

The book was called The Prophecies of Avocado or Footsteps of toucan or something. I was speechless
and I threw a dirty look as she shook her head, because if there is anything I can not stand is the fashion
of the loser.

Fashion of the loser .-

I call 'fashion loser "to admire the recent obsession with the losers of the his-tory. Today people
extolling any hodgepodge of beliefs, as long as pro-come of the Incas, or the Etruscans, or any culture
that has disappeared from the face of the Earth with hardly a trace. I do not understand.

Whatever the mysterious charm of these people, pure and simple truth is that they lost the game. No
doubt, in the great game of history, drew the lowest card.

Tell me, tell me, apart from cocaine use and human sacrifice, what we can teach the Incas?. To be
conquered by a band of bearded Spanish?. If these civilizations were so advanced, why on earth are
extinct?. Building Pyramids in the jungle is fine, but they would have gone better things if they had
discovered the wheel, right?.

22

(I realize that the story takes many turns and one day our luck will change. Who knows, perhaps
Western culture will be eclipsed by the revival of communities Burundi and Papua New Guinea. Sounds
good, but at least I I do not expect euphoric Papuan population begins to write books nostalgic recalling
that at the beginning of the twenty-Western peoples invented reality shows and they worshiped the
goddess Christi na Aguilera.)

Currently the losers of today are the Maya. One can not take a cut in the nearest bookstore café without
meeting people browsing the latest book on the wisdom of the ancient and noble Mayans. Oohh, but
how ready they were and what community life as a doggie bag. What such wonderful buildings built and
how well they were given timing. Did you know who made sundials and figured out the motions of
stars?.

Of course I figured out the motions of stars. What more could a poor Mayan night?. "Watching TV?.
Read a book?.

The Mayans are very popular of late because predicted the world would end on Sunday December 23,
2O12, the very day that ends my mortgage. But do not talk-ing me. After the slight disappointment of
the year 2OOO and Nostradamus, and the entire roll of the new millennium, proponents of conspiracy
theories going like crazy bus-ing a new apocalypse.
Thanks to the Mayans already have one, new catastrophe: 2O12, Armageddon our daily. And if the
Mayans predicted the world will run out in 2O12-even though almost everything else they did was a
failure and its civilization was devoured by the jungle ---, who am I to doubt?.

This means that they attack us everywhere, encouraging us to understand the ma-and civilization or to
find our inner Maya. Do deaf ears, my children, because this is another vile trick to fill your egg. Worse,
it's idiotic. Remember, we may be vague, but not idiots. Only the smartest survive being so lazy as us.

Head to the wonderful Mayan civilization, if you like. Look more closely at that mo-delo of wisdom that
arouses much interest. The Maya, they say, they enjoyed a vibrate-you sports culture, similar to ours. So
far so perfect. They were very fond of a baseball game whose rules have been wasted because the Maya
were literate in a language we understand. Although I'm in the nose that were not very fond of rules.

On special occasions the whole city gathered to watch the game. Once completed, the winning team
received a massage and coca leaves, and the loser a cordial handshake and the death penalty. Again,
implementation details are not very clear, but existing data suggest that among the rewards of the
winning team was the first insider trading to consume the still beating heart of the losers. Unfortunately,
the fate of the coaches is still unknown.

23

Nor is it so bad, you will think. Perhaps things would not go so bad if everyone (especially our
entrepreneurs and athletes) had similar incentive to win. You may be right, but read on, please.

Another spectacular Maya were fun contests to see who could drink more. Thanks to the ingenuity and
vision that made him famous, the Mayan people managed to solve the vexing problem of how to keep
drinking when the body already had enough-you.

Nor is it so bad, you will think. Perhaps things would not go so bad if everyone (especially our
entrepreneurs and athletes) had similar incentive to win. You may be right, but read on, please.

Another spectacular Maya were fun contests to see who could drink more. Thanks to the ingenuity and
vision that made him famous, the Mayan people managed to solve the vexing problem of how to keep
drinking when the body already had enough-you. At the time that the mechanism of vomiting was put in
operation (signal 'it is time to leave the party "for the majority of human beings including some
parliamentarians), the Maya took out their banana leaf funnels and continued eating your favorite drink
in the form of enema. (I suppose there comes the famous phrase: "Up, down, center and inside.")

In short, what conclusion we draw from all these anthropological data?. What kind of people want to
imitate?. I will tell you: some sports fans with homicidal tendencies and rampant alcoholism. And you
know what?. Well, no need to go back thousands of years to find them: at present there are whole
communities of 'Maya'. They are called student residences. I lived in the person and I get dizzy just
thinking about it.
Let me give you other information about the Maya. One day, after thousands of years of ci-bilisation call
him, decided to raise their belongings and leave their cities. So, no more. It gobbles the last heart-rum,
picked up their banana leaf funnels and into the forest never to return. There have been many theories
to explain this mass exodus. One of them refers to the breakdown of religious and political hierarchy,
combined with fears of foreign invasion. I doubt it. In my humble opinion, was not afraid to be with-
quist what provoked the flight of the Maya. What happened is that simply got tired of being Maya. And
the truth is that not surprise me was not the external enemy who destroyed their civilization, but the
"enemy" procedure.

My advice to those seeking their inner Maya is: do not bother to do so. I find it when you need money.

Fashionable nonsense .-

Not only the losers are all the rage. Manufacturers of self-help manuals and provided financial counsel-
lors are conspiring to sell something to fill our inner egg. And as you know perfectly well that what we
sell is absurd not only concealed, not-so, but make it a virtue.

"Every woman is a goddess," he said recently a woman, giving me a haughty look. (Su-put trying to look
like a goddess, although I do not know why, it reminded me more of a tour-fa constipated.) The
aforementioned was reading a book called Women Who Love Too Much Run with the Wolves. I think
the subtitle was How to stop being codependent and dis-cover your inner goddess, but I'm not sure.

24

"But every woman is a goddess," I said very quietly to make myself understood, "what exactly signifi-ca
be a goddess?. When used to define all women, the pier-word of its meaning. Why not simply be called
"women"?.

"You're applying a masculine logic to an intuitive experience," said the goddess.

The conversation was becoming of idiots, but I decided to continue.

- And what about the ability of self?. Is there the possibility while goddesses?. Because if not, why you
read so many self-help manuals?. I persisted, although EMPE-zaba hurting his head. Are there different
levels of divinity?. For example, current and women are goddesses who, like you, you are more
advanced goddesses?.

She looked at me with contempt.

"Obviously you are incapable of understanding the non-rational knowledge.

In the end I let it go. It is impossible to have a conversation with someone like that. If Neale Donald
Conversations with Waisch had written a goddess, instead of his best-selling live conversation with God
would not have sold even one copy. The book also meets-if you would have been bad, but we all know
that the foundation of successful self-help books is not precisely mind the quality. (At least I hope.)
My theory is that certain people are recreated in no sense of nonsense. I do not know if you read a book
called Everything I know I Learned in Kindergarten. Do not be so recommends. A certain Robert
FuIghum, consumed several forests to publish a eulogy to lapi-ces of deep colors and what we can learn
the story of the little rat budget measure (I swear).

He could not say more clear: If you are the type of people who read self-help manuals, I can tell you the
same thing you tell a child of four years and you will remain so few-cough. The only difference between
you and a boy of four years is that you go to you-tar gas money in my book.

And do not make me talk about that airhead, Deepak Chopra. When I heard the name of Deepak Chopra
for the first time, I thought it was a rapper from Los Angeles. However, des-after reading one of his
books, I found that, compared with Deepak Chopra, Tupac Shakur's work is a model of wisdom,
responsibility and lyrical beauty. I do not like making fun of my fellow writers, but in this case nothing
happens, because no Deepak Chopra writes: uti-liza language as an instrument of torture.

For example will suffice: "Now we come to a stage where the seeker becomes the seer. Because the
seeker has found what he sought was the one who seeks the seeker, and having found the seeker, the
seeker becomes the seer. "

25

Not even the most fanatic Chopráfilo can justify something. Not to mention that: "The only difference
between you and a tree-insightfully informs us, is the informational and energy content of your
respective bodies."

Congratulations. This is also the only difference between me, a tree, and George W Bush. What am I
saying?. It is not the only difference. A tree has leaves and roots that absorb water from the ground and
a tree to urinate dogs. And George W Bush ... Now I think, George W Bush is rather like a tree. Oh, I do
not know what I mean. When I read too Deepak, I swell the meninges.

Do you understand now the difficulty of writing a book that lampoon the self-help manuals?. When you
get into the genre of self-help, the line between satire and reality is finísi-ma.

Who has taken my keys? .-

I guess right now you're wondering: "Why this book is titled I've taken your cheese?. '. It may even be
wondering what your spouse, that with a little luck, you still in bed, reading his own copy of the book.
And maybe she'll answer: "No idea. I see no cheese anywhere. Besides, why would anyone take it?. "

The answer is, as we have suggested some cynics and skeptics that this book is a cheap maneuver to
take advantage of the popularity of a recent bestseller gene-ro self-help manuals. Not at all. The answer
to your question will arrive shortly. Be patient and let the Osmósix you go working.

Meanwhile, I would like to offer some words of advice on the issue of coping-ing change. This is the
subject of fashion today, and I understand that worry. If you're like me and if you've read this far, I guess
you are, "the exchange rate you most mo-Leste is that every morning makes you scream like a
madman:" Who Moved-DO MY KEYS? '.

Because let's face it, big changes do not affect us too. For example, what if our company which once
specialized in making yoyos now feels pressured by market forces and begins to manufacture anti-theft
systems?. Then what will happen?. Or accept it, or we stop working and stay home, drinking his elbow
or watching TV all day (do not know which is worse) until we realize that in reality, what I always
dreamed of was being talked designer fashion porn actor. That is our destination and, unless we are
about dolts unable to plan the future with more than five minutes early, what others tell us we are not
going to help anything.

However, there are important issues that cause more stress. It's the little de-tails, and leave in the
morning in a hurry to avoid a traffic jam and find out - again! .- Someone has taken your keys. I'm
serious: it is something that happens constantly and it affects us all. For example, I always leave the keys
in a place of anger are easy-strate, as the pocket of the trousers he wore the day before, or between the
couch cushions,

26

or (if I've been working late) in the freezer of the refrigerator, next to the cubes. And every morning,
without exception, can not find them anywhere. Someone has taken my so-see!.

This already causes me stress. Although stress raises several points when I loose my partner, "I've said a
thousand times you leave the keys on the hook for the keys. So you'll always know where they are. ". To
which I reply: "I have no hook for keys. Did you see him?. No, right?. Because there is none. ". Then she
answers: "You should be. Look at me: I never lose keys. "

That makes me lose more time, because now, besides finding my own keys, I have to look for my partner
secretly and hide in a place not find them.

Of course it is a plan doomed to failure. Women have an innate gift that men lack: that of finding lost
objects with little effort (just like the pe-rros-marie police found in the luggage of an international
airport).

And you can think or say that I do not drown in a glass of water. Precisely the concern at the minutiae is
what allows us to function normally. If we are not depressed-semos because our team lost Saturday's
game, all that capacity for depression would be floating in the air and would surely joining a full im-
portant as the greenhouse effect, the whaling the international success of Eminem.

Of course, the keys need not be keys. Sometimes it is an uneven sock-do, or my lighter, or that can of
beer that I keep in the vegetable drawer of the refrigerator, cleverly camouflaged beneath that lettuce
that's been there since 1998 and I have booked with this one purpose. Do not know why, but all these
things also disappear continuously.
No matter. My advice is to accept these small inconveniences. Small annoyance des can be solved and
also free us from having to think about important issues that can overwhelm and depress us and we will
never solve by themselves.

I realize that custom dictates that you forward these tips as a fable. Take-and again I would stress that I
am not thinking about any self-help manual in particular, we have four little characters who live in a
maze.

Two are mice because mice live in labyrinths, and the other two are Lilliputian-tries, some human beings
the size of mice. If this seems unlikely, sorry. Lili-putienses and the mice lived very happily at the
beginning of this fable, because everyone knew where to find cheese in quantity. Oh, cheese!.

But one day he woke up and discovered that the cheese was gone. The two mice, as were mice, went
through the maze in search of New Cheese (although I suspect it was the same cheese before anyone
had been on your site). The two Lilliputians, being people, I suppose, began to rant and ask what had
happened to her that-so.

27

You may think that the moral of this story is: managing change, adaptaos to new circumstances without
cheese, internaos in the maze and find more cheese!. Not so. Such co-mo illustrates the fable, that is the
reaction of the mouse.

Tell me, brethren: what are we?. "Men or mice?. Here the only question is important is: Who the hell
has my keys?. (or in the case of the parable, the one-so). If it appears that there is a compulsive thief
cheese around loose, the uncle or aunt will not stop so easily. Once you take the cheese aficionado of
others, very cunning old tricks again and again if someone does not for the feet. And to top it will laugh
at us behind our backs.

If you insist on lanzares in search of more cheese, you will risk entering a vicious circle of suffering.
"Remember to Xam. and desert elephant?. Then the cheese is like the elephant. Could spend months
tracking the desert and cheese when they find it, you would not know what to do with it. In short, if you
do not find your cheese, for another thing butterfly. Seek another subject that you can pretend to be
important: if you do see that it is, it will be. It is important not the goal itself but might be able to
comply.

Remember: you can change goals and make success. Everything can be faked.

But back to our tale. As you said, the reaction of the Lilliputians was adequate. The thing to do is find the
person that has taken the cheese. Once you have found, you can tie her hands and feet and tortured
with fondue tenedorcitos until you tell me where it has gotten. Another possibility is to force her to steal
the cheese from the ra-tones and traéroslo.
So when I find my keys in the morning and my partner overwhelms me saying it's my fault, I was always
a strategy that is useful is to put into a rage and em-Pezaro shouting: "Who moved my keys ?. Is it you?.
"

If you scream for a while, at the end she forgets blame you and gets to work. After a quick look
immediately locate your keys at the bottom of the tank where you left last night when he got home
thinking it was a place where they would easily from anywhere in the room. Then she the points his
finger and let go a sarcastic comment:

'Well, Darrel. I've taken your keys!. "

I do not care. That is all sarcastic he wants. At least he has stopped fas-Tidia and also I have recovered
my keys!.

Now that I have my keys and a little time to think, I wonder if my analogy of mice has been useful, or
whether they even have something to do with what I mean. In confidence, I must confess that I was not
very good at this matter of simplistic analogies. Anyone who has bought this book hoping to get help
coping with restructuring of his company's yo-yos I guess right now is tearing the pages and using them
as napkins or toilet paper. I imagine him calling his colleagues converted and telling them: - "Hey, guys,
did you read I've taken your cheese? -. Oh, yeah?. Why not go home

28

of this miserable and give a good lesson?. I've got the brass knuckles and baseball bats. What do you
think, guys?. That why I talk like a gangster of love-American movie?. Sorry, I had not noticed. "

While obviously this will not be my defense if I attack a pack of unemployed executives, my opinion on
the issue is simple: if you need me to me or someone else to you a story you ac-painful with morals as
obvious as "The change occurs, "" Adapt to change quickly. "If you do not move with change, you will be
back," frankly, you had merecíais employment. And for the sake of the economy, neither should da-ros
another.

My advice on how to deal with change is you pick up a glass jar and put it in a well visible from the
kitchen. Every night when you get home and have hidden your keys, grab the coins in your pocket and
puts it into the glass the higher value. I recommend you get rid of the low-value giving them to the poor
or caregiver cars. My friend keeps Chunk old coins in a sport sock placed under the pillow and used as a
weapon of self defense. (I need, because his wife still has not forgiven him to go to tie the supermarket.)

Remember: change is inevitable, but must be controlled. If you do not, you will distort the portfolio and
create an ugly bulge in his pants.

Ser o no ser .-
Currently a great source of concern to young people who try to open walk-in life is not the
bombardment of careless advice they receive from around the world, from professionals to friends and
relatives, as well intentioned as wrong-two.

The advice of others are a bit like the bank of abdominal exercises that you com-prasteis following an
irrational impulse one morning when insomnia combatíais watching teleshopping: something that keeps
a time without paying too much attention and finally feasting aca-ba . That's all you can do with a bank
or abdominal exercises with tips from people, because one never uses them for himself.

And is that bad advice abounds. A clear example is the thousands of sayings and proverbs of wisdom
that has been in use for centuries. One generation does not make them any attention, the following are
discovered and tries to pass them on to the rear, who in turn did not heed them and so on.

Phrases are never questioned. However, I wonder why we insist on "clear that a stitch in time saves nine
when, according to scientific studies re-sufficient, usually average fifty-two. And what parent with an
ounce of sense tells his son that everywhere baked beans?. It is the fastest way to load the myth of the
infallibility of the parents. All you have to do is take a look dwarf at home with their friends, at school or
in the park to find their parents as a beautiful lie-ing. Just as their grandparents were lied to them.

29

The lies do not end there. Unless you're drunk, who laughs last laughs best not, but usually stop laughing
as she realizes she's laughing all alone and looking at him with disapproval. And the next time they tell
you that anyone who helps early bird, you can answer that does not seem that your co-workers who
arrive early will be much better. Maybe God has had enough of them read the paper. And who came up
with the nonsense about the rain in Seville is a pure wonder?. What do you mean?. To-do the world
knows that there are many wonders in Seville, the Giralda and the Alcazar, but to my knowledge, they
have little rain is most normalità. Unless I have been in the wrong places.

What I mean is that people loose boards to Spray and Pray without any regard for truth. How many
times have you heard: "Courage. You'll see how far things will go better?. And they are so satisfied, it is
clear that you are outright lying. To-both know that misfortunes never come singly, and that things will
probably get worse. I tell you: if given the chance, things can get worse faster than a James Cameron
film.

Another tip that annoys me is the famous "Be yourself. What a barbarity!. The civiliza-tion and all basic
rules of human coexistence based on the fact of not being us-ters themselves. Did not have read The
Lord of the Flies?. Have not you ever fought someone for a parking space?. We can use Ermenegildo
Zegna suits, but the funds are all animals do.

Leaving aside the debate about human nature, to be oneself is a path strewn with dangers. Most of us,
deep down, we are hypocrites about chickens, cranky and whiny, with mixed feelings, few principles and
a certain taste in music than ever confess in public. Why would we want to be these people?. In a world
of people who seem much more interesting than us, why we must insist on being ourselves?. If being
yourself would be so fantastic, it would be like you trying legions.

What really makes this advice is indigestible often given to people who have clearly shown themselves
to be was the worst decision in the circumstances. If you did you pe-bal a girl out and she not only has
rejected you outright, but has been careful to list every one of the reasons why your appearance is so
unfortunate, it is clear that not be yourself you any good.

Even worse is the people who say: "Be yourself", without a thought to who to tell. I'm not at all
surprised that young Jeffrey Dahmer, the serial murderer, and anatomical parts collector-off to school,
worried about a series of strange dreams that was you-NienD, and the master let go the following (as I
thought about it I would do in the summer), 'Young man, the best advice I can give you is to be yourself.
"

In short, my message is: you need not always be yourself. Sed other peo-ple, if necessary. For example,
if you're Slobodan Milosevic, why not choose to be someone other than a hideous genocidal?. If you're
George W Bush ... Well, I better shut up. I have promised myself that I would simply jokes about George
W Bush in this book.

30

Ojo!. I'm not saying you should try to improve. That takes time and effort, almost nun-ca works and in
the end one always ends the same. I suggest you're just another person from time to time, because the
world is too diverse to survive in it being always the same. "I'm huge - Walt Whitman said. Abarco
crowds. ". (Although I am not sure whether it was Walt Whitman or James Bond in this scene of Gold-
finger that Sean Connery is tied to a table and threaten him with a laser beam.)

If you have more will than a doormat and you do not have any talent or special interest, well-come:
you're one of us. We are millions of people, trillions of trillions of ancestors and descendants in the
future. In my humble opinion, in world history there have been only seven or eight original all others
who have dedicated themselves to imitate with more or less success. (Now you expect me to reveal who
these people, pe-ro I refuse. I tell you, however, that none of them is John Lennon. MacLai Shirley Ni-ne.
And nobody who may know personally.)

If you understand the concept of internal egg, you may have noticed that anything is possible. That is,
everything is' fingible. You can be what you decide.

Being Oprah .-

"You can be what you decide.". As I write these words I realized that I person-ban, and then I fell: I've
heard in every issue of Oprah, the Oprah television show. Winfrey. Oprah, who today is considered one
of the most powerful women-nies in America, enjoys repeating that we can be whatever we decide,
however poor or oppressed Southern blacks to be. We have it to remind us that there was a time she
was also poor, oppressed black South, but now the dollars will go up by the ears.
If you see the Oprah gives the impression that his life began when he took off the gri-Grillet untándose
wrists with lard and Mississippi ran up on a boat going-through. When I see Oprah on TV, I feel like
remind you that he acted in The Color Purple by Steven Spielberg does not mean that he actually lived at
the time of slavery.

In her program, Oprah. has a section called "Do not forget the spirit", and I, the see-ing is that I do not.
What do you mean?. You go on outings and at night when you return to the tent you get to rummage in
my backpack, thinking: 'Let's see: flashlight, matches, mosquito nets, sleeping bag .. Hey, where have I
got the spirit?. Do not tell me I've again forgotten. "" Who Moved My DEMONS SPIRIT ?.?.?.»

Or maybe it means that you get to the final question 'Would Be a Millionaire. "Submitted exporter and
let go:" For a million dollars, Tiburcia: how is called the rational soul of the person, that part that will live
beyond his death?. '. And after the show-after you deposit the halls with his face contorted and
muttering: "There can be: I forgot of the spirit, I forgot about the spirit ... »

31

What can not be denied is that Oprah is a lynx in the area of the egg interior. Take a good look how it is
so cool while all those unhappy informed them, with a little faith, could be her. Yes, dear, that if you
follow your instincts, you can also end up sitting next to Curan, chatting with Denzel Washington, Julia
Roberts or the marriage counselor whose name I do not want, or I can remember. And he says it so
calmly, without flinching in the least. That woman looks at the audience's eyes, says something is clearly
a hoax, and stay happy. Why say it's a hoax?. Because you can be Oprah. Not even Oprah is Oprah, The
Oprah phenomenon is simply something that had to happen and Oprah is just a person who was smart
enough to let that thing take shape.

Oprah-like so many other television interviewers, their personality does not contribute to the program
or have nothing to talk with celebrity guests, apart from anecdotes and references to other celebrities. It
simply is dedicated to be present and let the Oprah concept exists. She and her copies elsewhere in the
egg is empty for a public decide what agra-fill with whatever you like.

You too can be like her. How?. No, I do not mean binge pas sandwiches and satellite, but to be carried
away as she does. Believe it or not (at first seems more motionless than a beached whale), Oprah is
carried away by the stream of life. Without sounding like Deepak Chopra, I would be flowing without a
body fluid. (I just read the sentence and if that sounds like Deepak Chopra. I think I read too many self-
help manuals.)

Oprah Winfrey fully accepts its egg inside, and although the outside gives the impression of being a
charlatan or rellenahuevos, basically is just like you and me would like to be. When it appears on the
screen, not thinking of angels and the road to light if-not on who should be hired to write his next self-
help manual on how to make Jim Carrey is being quietly in her seat, in romp with Denzel Washington in
the carpet in the dish or buy a private plane for the next time you make a trip not have to sit next to
those people who could be like her. She pretends that it is not, but we know the truth.
Note that the mere thought of Oprah. I've gone hungry. Oprah always associated with co-measured
because I have a picture of her taped to the door of the refrigerator. next to the photograph, a message
written in those magnetic letters that have recently become fashionable and that some annoying we use
to compose poems of poor quality. (I think people write them to keep me away from their refrigerators,
as there is nothing worse that the concept of poe-bers that others have. I say "poetry" only by courtesy.
Whenever I have to control pa-ra no catch the perpetrators of kitsch by the collar and say "Here, here's
a pen and paper. If you want to write poetry, sit down and write it as God intended, not while drinking
from the bottle and you scratch his belly. And when finished, save the note in a drawer or a shoebox,
where it can not cause harm.. I feel like ana-dir: "Ah, indeed, that of placing three consecutive words
ending in the same syllable is not writing poetry. ").

Well, let the subject of magnetic refrigerator poetry. What are we talking about?. Ah yes, the message is
in mine, along with the photo of Oprah. The message is: "Fat is no barrier to success, provided you know
pretend."

32

32

Which brings me to the next chapter.

Bodies danone --

The body is a tricky topic. I think I made it clear that I am a quiet man who takes great effort not to
squint. However, like most of you who are reading this book right now, I am human and therefore a
victim of the cursed va-nity.

The other day, without going any further, let your guard down for a moment and persuaded to tare me
qui-shirt in public. The exact circumstances are unimportant, but I will say that some elements were
present: a deck of cards, beer cans and half-eaten pizzas.

No hint of delicacy - from that which causes men to outline a polite smile and avoid eye contact when a
fat girl appears in his undershirt and shorts-, women-res the group did not conceal his horror. They were
so gaping that some hea-the noise made. "I did not know much bebieses beer 'laughed. "What a shame,
and never looks at forty," said another. A young mother covered her eyes were their offspring and
quickly remove them from the crime scene.

The cruel laughter lasted all afternoon even though I had become not only put the shirt, but I had also
wrapped with a checkered tablecloth. It was humiliating rim. But worst of all, remember that there was
a time seme-jantes incidents have embarrassed me enough to decide to take action.

The problem is that such resolutions often begin in the gym, some places

I hate dearly. For me exercise is to eat in a self-service and club brand sounds like pens. Besides I have
never managed to have a conversation with a living being in a gym. People who frequent these places is
thinner and athletic than me, which intimidates me and, I confess, gives me a horrible rage. Okay, some
people are worse, but who feel like chatting with a bunch of fat?.

Sometimes I was tempted to exercise at home, but not for long. The sim-ple idea in my own home tired
transgresses all my principles, especially of beer sitting on the couch. Do not even like yourself or do odd
jobs around the house the day that I melted the bulb in the bedroom, I moved the bed to the kitchen to
read in the light of the refrigerator. He was quite comfortable, but once I forgot to close the door and
woke up with frozen eyelids. (Some of you'll be wondering if more effort was not bringing the bed to the
kitchen to change the bulb. You may be right, but that is not what counts. The bottom line is that I
would do anything to protect my vagrancy.)

Unfortunately, it is difficult to escape from the apparatus, because if you're not going to buy them, they
come to you. If I myself have not fallen is more full of solid chance and luck than willpower. Normally
such devices are advertised in ti-channel

33

po Teletienda or night infomercials. And I am especially susceptible to these ul-scams, because at these
times is when I watch TV more and more bored I am.

The infomercials-baptized in English with the infamous expression infomercials-emi-tirs are worldwide
and are Machiavellian persuasive. Why?. Because they are of American and Americans, as we all know,
mastering the art of ven-der. So adorn their infomercials with former Miss America, Olimpia-ing dark
medalists and entertainers of football teams. You see these women from toothpaste smile and think:
'God, what and pneumatic blondes. How well are so old they are and their evident-you drug addiction. ".
Immediately one finds:

"Who knows, if I buy this game maybe titanium knives will succeed in having the body of a Californian."

Surely I too have fallen into the trap of exercise equipment had not had a night off during a trip to
Amsterdam. I know what you're thinking, but despite being a man with a night off during a business trip
in Amsterdam, did not leave the hotel room. Instead raided the minibar and I zapping tele-vision
Holland. And you know what I found in Holland after the television medium-che?. Something totally
improbable: an infomercial Italian announcing a treadmill.

It was very educational. While Americans are selling devices like the Alpine Skier and Fitness Flier-light
metal objects that seem abstract art pieces adorn many of the country, storage cabinets, Italians soften
us to continue putting their faith in a. product called Vibromass.

Vibromass is that machine, completely forgotten in the world, consisting of elastic bands for the waist
and thighs, and that promises to eliminate vibrations through our cellulite (and incidentally with our
savings). The infomercial showed him an old woman who had given Italy the eyeliner so reminiscent of a
killer whale. Not to be rude, but it was scary.
The old lady seemed very happy to appear on television to Holland at two in the ma-nana, which
expressed poking with a stick the enormous buttocks of a girl dressed in a tight workout outfit. Here we
clearly appreciate cultural differences. While Americans prefer to use a model to represent the 'after' in
their demonstrations of equipment for weight loss, the Italians appear to favor the version co-sponding
to the "Before". It's funny. Anyway, it was pretty hard to see, espe-cially so late in a hotel room in a
strange city and without being bo-rracho enough to spend the inheritance of my future children in erotic
channels.

"If you abuse the machine," said the Italian witch an elastic band while kneading the plump lower
hemisphere of the model-may hurt you. ". We'll then put the bands on the face. "It also serves to make
facials!." Exclaimed the mamma, while the nose and mouth of the poor girl traded places. More and
more pale, the girl had to carry so-another assault on the pole. "Slims thighs!. - said her tormentor. Y is
for

34

all ages!.. Menacingly, Mrs. chiaroscuro brought his face to the camera. "Thank Vibromass air whispered
lewd-men see with new eyes!."

That experience left forever the possibility that occurred to me to acquire such devices. But brothers
and sisters, I remained weak. I dreamed of changing, to reshape my body, not amorphous, but current.
Yes, I wanted a new body, a body co-mo the notices of Danone.

(Editor's Note: Does this count as advertising?. Do you think I get paid for Danone's what I put?. I have
no pride, accept your money delighted. If you want, I can even change the title of the book " Who
Moved My danone?.)

However, much worse than physical exercise are the diets. I am ashamed to admit pe-ro is this: I have
made arrangements. And that my diet is not too ambitious: normally rely on stop eating the candies
they bring me with coffee at the corner pizzeria. Even I am able to resist temptation when you bring
those sticky candy-sos. It's when they bring you chocolates of good, because then there is no one who
resists. Life is too short to deprive you of a candy bar.

Total, that it got serious. One night I was at the corner bar, the Billiards Uni-two, puntísimo of falling into
the trap of ordering a beer light when I suddenly saw the light. (There is a waitress in the United Billiards
called Light, but I do not mean it, but the Light of Truth: that which illuminates when a man hits bottom.
Curiously bottoming usually associated with the comings and goings of this waitress, but I assure you I
do not mean it.)

I thought: 'What do I do?. Does this light beer will make me happy?. Is it possible that my dream of
having a muscular belly paunch in place of this desert is my elephant?. I look inside and accept my egg!. I
turn my weakness into a virtue!. "

"Enough - I decided. Stop the tyranny of the weak. Enough of hiding and embarrassed and finish
wrapping the stomach with foil. (Incidentally, when you wrap the barri-ga with foil, shiny side "must be
put into or out?. Well, I do not need contestéis. I'm not interested.)'m A man, gee, and have an
irrevocable right belly!. Who cares if my stomach like a washboard, but an industrial washing machine?.
Also, I live very far from the beach, and I can always gadas carry hol-shirts. "

That's how I reconciled with my weaker self. And it is not so, since this site I invite all men of good will to
join me (not in marriage but in spirit) and to march at my side to defend the League of Liberation of the
Gut. In fact, I have already begun organizing the first Pride event to Barriguil principles of next year.
(Although I fear I will not be present. The demonstrations did not excite me, just thinking about the cold
in February and already I start to sneeze. Anyway, you follow the plan: I am told that there will be food
in quantity " .)

35

In short, our stomachs are the result of dedicated efforts, not to mention money and genetic
inheritance: not reject. Come, let us sing together: "We are overweight, are heavy, we are more. No. ..
no ... we do not move ... »

Conclusion .-

The hour of parting. No, do not weep, because it is law of life: the roses are wilting, the swallows
migrate and-though it seems impossible to one of these days Robert Redford will stop making the movie
hunk. Everything follows the life cycle, and I start to feel the fresh air of autumn. Moreover, it gave me a
great advance for writing this book, which I start or find another job or the tobacconist on the corner
will come to requisition cigarettes.

Sometimes the universe works in mysterious ways. There is an old man who lives next to my house.
(There is the neighbor to whom I ice and Sunday supplement whose agency I occasionally, those are the
Katze, who live at number 27. The man who lives in the house next door does not buy the Sunday paper.
) I never had had a long conversation with him, because he always seemed a bit odd. It turns out that
the man has a painted plaster dog in the garden and often leads bones or plates of cookies, and in
winter, thermos of coffee or hot soup. Sometimes when I stayed. working late, he sneaks into his garden
and the dog hiding under a bush or I take his food. The poor man goes crazy, starts to jump and shout,
"Who has been touching my dog?. '. I know it's silly, but I find it funny.

Besides, we have not had much to do. Occasionally greeted us on our gardens and he told me:

- Did you hear the cats last night?. What a fight!.

"No," I answered.

"Sure ... as music gets you so high, "replied he, and got home without another word.

Come to think, I did not like too well. It turns out that, while writing this ma-annual, very curious thing
happened. One afternoon I saw the old man in the garden with a book in hand: es-taba leyéndoselo
aloud to your dog's cast. Seeing the title of the book, my blood froze in my veins. It was the bestselling
Tuesdays with Morrie, by Mitch Albom.

After that incident, I stopped into the garden for a while, but could not hid forever-derm. My neighbor-
call Bill, and such was devoted to loiter near the fence waiting for me to appear. One day he caught me
as I pulled out a box of empty bottles.

- Hey, young man. "he said. Why not come home one day to have tea?.

- Tea?. "I answered.

36

"Well, okay, because it responded to whiskey see my empty bottles. How about Tuesday?. Tuesday is a
good day, right?.

I did not think to go, but finally arrived on Tuesday and was still wondering what to put devils in this
conclusion. The conclusions do not know why, it appears that request solutions or at least resolutions.
However, I had no solution or resolution, not-it was too lazy to find them (or at least not just for that)
but because I believe the solutions and resolutions are just responsible for all problems of this world . In
fact if you put your ear to hear the egg inside, that nagging voice thin and you hear, like the waves in a
glass of whiskey, says: "No-lutions!. No solutions!.. (Though I, personally, waves in a glass of whiskey
usually say, "drink me, drink me ', which I suspect comes to the same thing.)

Total, both think that whiskey in the end I found myself at Bill's house, knocking on the door. The old
man appeared dressed in a little hippie clothes and a cane sometimes vidaba ol-use.

"Come, come," he said. Did you bring the tape recorder?. No matter, you can take notes.

Bill's plan was clear: he intended to bequeath their wisdom to the world. He sat in a chair, clasped his
fingertips and looked at the ceiling as if he were pondering profoundly. He then began to drop phrases
like "Do you know what I've always pen-sado?. For that to forgive others, you must first learn to forgive
themselves-Sotra not. ". Or: "In my opinion, we should accept the past as past, without ne-loading or
discarded.". Or: "Let us admit that we can do and what we are doing INCAP-ces."

At first I just nodded politely and say, "Aha," and the kinds of things people say when they do not know
what to say. But when he finally declared: "Love is the only rational act" because I could not help.

"Hey," I interrupted. Was not that book professor who said that?.

Bill thought for a moment, and finally decided legarme their own wisdom. Almost everything I said then
I heard it before, especially my father's mouth. My father was a real source of wisdom. "Never mix
alcohol he would say, find a professional to handle it.". Or: "Never take white socks, unless you're a
tennis player or a newborn.". And again: "Never trust the little man."

Within a short time, Bill began agotársele advice and whiskey, so I rose to go.
- You know what?. he said with a tone of despair. Sometimes the universe works in mysterious ways.

I considered that reflection. Yes, it was true because I still do not understand how light can be a particle
and a wave simultaneously. Nor have I ever figured out which direction

37

drains water if drain is just in Ecuador. Perhaps Bill would eventually peak helps.

"Go," I said while pulling a pen and pretended he was taking notes. That left him paralyzed. It is possible
that the universe works in mysterious ways as well but it is easier said than prove it by concrete
examples.

"For example, why the phone can go an entire day without ringing and suddenly you call two people at
once?.

"Mmm ... "I said.

--- Ah ... Eh ... And have you ever thought what would be the sea level if there were no sponges?.

Suddenly the old man gave me grief. I rose from my chair and put a hand on his shoulder. However,
neither of us was not amused, so he immediately withdrew my hand and I sat down again.

"Bill, why do not we tuteamos?. "I said gently. And let's see, who says that if you're older you have to be
wise?. Wisdom is for people who want to sell books.

Bill gave me a grateful look, and we stayed a while in silence.

"The Massagetae Scythians were a people who lived in the lands east of the Caspian Sea around 6OO
before Christ," I told Bill. Revered their elders: the caring, respected their views and never required
them to teach lessons, or intelli-tion maximum. They accepted that older people had done enough with
aging. Old age itself and is itself a good example.

"So the Massagetae, eh?. Bill nodded thoughtfully. Maybe I should have been a Massagetae.

"Do not think-I had to add ---. Revere their elders to a degree, after a good organization ban birthday
party, and at one point in the evening ( "Well I guess you give the speeches and the first round of
drinks), they killed the poor old man, the roasted and added to the banquet.

"Wow.

"Yes, not everything was fun and tribal wisdom at the time" I said.

-Wild - Bill concluded.

"Well, the Maya or I'll tell you I went on. Life is very simple, Bill. The important thing is that you're alive,
they suffer from incontinence, do not spend on whaling and you can watch TV when you want. You also
have your dog, remember.
38

Bill nodded.

"Do not get bogged both" I advised. Leave the wisdom to those who believe that their life is empty
without her. They are sad people, Bill. Desperate people. You and I can survive without it.

"Then I remembered that today only listen to you if you speak in aphorisms and added," If the pien-sas,
wisdom is just another word for a good life.

I'm not sure what it meant, but Bill looked unconvinced. After that we lle-perfectly and when we
finished the whiskey and crawled to the door, I got off the sensation that we were old friends. As I said
bye-bye, I turned, looked into his eyes and reminded him the title of a famous self-help manual:

"I'm okay, you're okay.

Was one of those moments you never forget how hard they try.

Maybe Bill was a gift from heaven to help me write this last chapter. (If indeed it is, how depressing.
Imagine living a life with its failures, traumas, and courts of pe-what disappointing, simply for the heavy
neighbor could finish his book in time for the Christmas campaign.) Total that after arriving home and
hide the keys under a loose tile in the kitchen, I began to wonder. You and I have come a long way-well,
larguillo-and I fear that may not have been fair. Throughout the book I referred to us as "vague" but
maybe that's not the right word. It just happens that we do not want unnecessary effort being to
underline the word "unnecessary" and not "efforts".

In summary, this world is full of absurdities, absurdities and stupidities simple and cost-mu chísimo way
through them. It's almost impossible not to end up so tired that you drop and the wave of the coils the
stupid nonsense takes many disguises (from official, solo Spice Girl or a journalist's heart) and one of the
trends of this and next tem - cumstances is to dress for wisdom.

Our work-yours and mine, is to reject the foolishness, let it go and if we can, to make us rich down the
road. I have put my two cents writing this book (and sell-lo). Now the rest is up to the readers. And do
not ask me how, because I do not know.

I wanted to finish the book with an explanation of the title, but now I think it does not matter. You have
seen that there is no cheese, and have been, I would have eaten, rather than take him somewhere. The
cheese was just a trick to get leyeseis the book until the end. Here you are, so I guess it worked.

Epilogue .-

Now Bill and I are good neighbors. We greeted each morning with some affection, although it is
obviously difficult to change a habit. When I'm working to tar-de, I still feel like sneak into your garden
and the dog hiding plaster or food

39
that lets. Yesterday morning, for example, Bill woke me with their screams and curses while rummaging
in the bushes.

- Easy, easy!. I shouted, leaning out the window.

Bill looked up and our eyes met again.

"Relax," I said ---. It was me. I've taken your blood.

Instructions for the blank pages .-

I noticed that you will have the final pages of this book are blank. Unless the library clerks are dedicated
to making the funny with the marker will be li-bers of doodles, graffiti, graphics, shopping lists and
vulgar comments. Do not you feel cheated: these pages are not a scam, but a golden opportunity.

The blank pages of a book are the literary equivalent to minutes in tra-vues white agenda. I feel,
therefore, that my duty was to suggest some possible instructional uses for this site: scoring
philosophical thoughts, or taking notes for this cycle of sonnets epic that will revolutionize the history of
poetry, etc. ... However, I think you can make a simpler and more effective use of these pages.

For example:

You may be reading this book a hot day and go dressed in warm clothing that you got this morning
thinking that afternoon freshen If so, these pages results shall ideal for drying your brow. Do not
hesitate to do so, as a sweaty face is usually associated with sumo wrestlers and is not happy
bedfellows. I assure you will not link anything if you walk around sweating like a pig (and I'm not going
to win-der anything if people see you reading my book).

• If you start pages you will use them to make coasters or to make confetti case-ro.

• You may want to use these sheets to write a list of everything you've learned in the preceding pages.
Every morning you wake up, whistling cheerfully and review the con-councils that I have given very
useful. I will not give you a summary of what dido supposed to learn, but I can point out some
suggestions:

• When life gives you a handle, use it to prepare sangria.

• If you want to be stupid, stop fooling around.

• Life is like a box of chocolates: It costs a lot, if you too rá the stuff away-I ask you get sick and if you see
her, you always ask for a party.

• Think before you speak. Read before thinking. Wash your hands before reading.

40

• A stitch in time saves fifty or sixty at most.

• I'm fine.

• Do not waste time thinking about whether the glass is half full or half empty. If the glass is roughly
half, orders another round.

• In life, as in the salons of desktop, just say crooks everything they feel and feel only bores everything
they say.

• Do not believe what the "Just do it" (just do it). Things have to think about. Rather say: 'We'll see "or"
it might do it or can not. " Or better not say anything.

• And Leave the party five minutes before you run out of conversation topics.

All the best, folks. If you notice that you lack the power, hojead this book again and re-member:
"Everything can be faked."