sipping some Wheatley's at Rhoss's on a barstool, with some pubpal of the Olaf Stout kidney, always trying to poorchase mov- ables by hebdomedaries for to putt in a new house to loot, cigarette in his holder, with a good job and pension in … [Continuar leyendo]
443.15-29 ¡Qué pinta tiene el hermano!
Dumnlimn wimn humn. In which case I'll not be complete in fighting lust until I contrive to half kill your Charley you're my darling for you and send him to Home Surgeon Hume, the algebrist, before his ap- pointed time, … [Continuar leyendo]
443.12-15 [Y ¿a que te denuncio ante los doce jueces?] Verás qué bien te viene!
It should prove more or less of an event and show the widest federal in my cup. He'll have pansements then for his pensamientos, howling for peace. Pretty knocks, I promise him with plenty burkes for his shins. Será más o menos … [Continuar leyendo]
Ochenta años después
Yo apenas conocía a James Joyce. Su nombre para mí era una torpe sucesión de fonemas atribuidos a un hombre aburrido que había escrito libros difíciles. No obstante, como no se puede juzgar a un libro por su portada, decidí acercarme a este … [Continuar leyendo]
443.02-12 Y ¿a que te denuncio ante los doce jueces?
More- over after that, bad manners to me, if I don't think strongly about giving the brotherkeeper into custody to the first police bubby cunstabless of Dora's Diehards in the field I might chance to follopon. Or for that matter, for … [Continuar leyendo]