Tuesday, January 18, 2011

WRITERS BLOCK---BLOQUEO DE ESCRITOR,© Carlos de la Parra.(Spanish and English versions of a typical problem, clic down for unique view.)

El escritor harto de contemplar la hoja en blanco se puso a dibujar una mano huesuda como de esqueleto. Tan bien hecha le quedó que cobró vida y lo jaló de la corbata y lo fué metiendo para dentro de la hoja al tiempo que le gritaba:
--- ¡Que hartazgo tengo de tí, presionándome con la mirada, pensando que idiotez vas a escribir!,¿ Pero ya te has puesto a pensar a quien le importa lo que escribas y como lo escribas?----

----Bueno quizás a nadie más que a mí---- respondió agónicamente agarrándose de las orillas de la hoja para evitar que éste horrible esqueleto lo acabase de meter dentro del papel.---

----Por Dios, dame un respiro. Ya han pasado desfiles de premiados con el Nobel, el Goncourt, el Príncipe de Asturias,y más; ¿Y qué? Igual se mueren y a la gente no le importa, mira escribe cualquier idiotez que aparezca en el interior de tu cráneo y vete a trabajar, o prepara una buena cena, o cumple con tu deber de entretener al perro, haz cualquier cosa, pero ya.---

En éso sonó el teléfono y contestó con la mano libre y escuchó:
------Pásame al de la mano huesuda.----

Le pasó el teléfono y éste le soltó la mano. Se fué a preparar la cena.

ENGLISH VERSION.

He was at it again, enduring writer's block, sitting there like an idiot staring at the blank page.
Finally realizing this was an exercise of motionless stress and sanity doubts he opted to draw a bony skeletal hand. And he was doing such a great job at it that the hand for unbeknownst reasons came alive on it's own and proceeded to pull him from his tie into the blank page, needless to say causing the writer sheer terror at disappearing into the abyss of that sheet of paper not understanding the final intentions the bony hand had for him , so he struggled to brace himself from his desk and pulled back on the hand with so much strength that you could see the whole bony arm sticking out of the paper. Then he heard the voice of this eerie creature speak:
---Oh man! I'm so sick of you, always stalking the page, conniving to impress with all the crap you imagine, has it ever dawned on you , who gives a royal shit at what you write? Are you not aware before your performance that you have previously been bested by many of other writers who have outdone you by winning nobels, and bookers and goncourts not to mention eons of prizes designed to give them a luster as deservers of glory and money, and who cares?

 ----Well maybe I care. It's about doing my own version, I'm not competing with anyone, I just do my thing.----

----OH. JUST ENTIRELY SICKENING! Allow me to drown you in a sea of vomit.
Why don't you apply your sick self to something you do well like entertaining the dog or cooking dinner?----

At this point the phone rang and the writer picked it up with his free hand and heard the voice saying.
---Pass me the guy with the bony hand---.

As he  handed the receiver, he let go off him ,Now he left the room to go prepare  supper.

Thursday, January 13, 2011

PICNIC. © Carlos de la Parra. (Spanish and English versions. Clic down to read)

Juan Pascual paseaba por el bosque y tuvo que detenerse ante lo que presenciaba.
Un joven alto de cabello largo estaba sentado en la pradera en el area donde los excursionistas paraban a descansar y disfrutar sus alimentos y tenía ante él una pequeña ración de sardinas y un bollo de pan que se aprestaba a convertir en un bocadillo que se pasaría con la botella de agua mineral que había puesto sobre el mantel. El susodicho tenía un enorme carisma, tanto que se vió pronto rodeado de ardillas y de niños pobres quienes todos parecían apetecer sus alimentos. El solitario campista sonrió y con éste gesto alentó a todos para que se acercasen más.
Para la total sorpresa de Juan Pascual, el joven, como si se tratase de un acto de magia, comenzó de su plato de pescado a sacar platos igualmente servidos y los repartió entre los niños quienes devoraban con enorme apetito y luego repartió por igual panes a niños y ardillas, ya cumplida ésta tarea se sirvió un vaso del agua la cual se convirtió en vino, y procedió a comer con todos.
Juan Pascual nunca había sido un hombre religioso, pero ante lo que vió, se sintió iluminado por un pensamiento que le indicó que a como diéra lugar él tenía que contratar a éste joven para ser el jefe de bodega de su restaurante de mariscos.

ENGLISH VERSION.

Rex Volf was surprised at what he saw as he trailed through the national park. It was a long haired youth who was placing a tablecloth on the grassy area and serving his meal from a basket. On a plate he served some sardines and a bun of rye bread and placed  some bottled water next to it.
Soon he attracted a large group of squirrels and hungry children who stared intently at his food. He smiled at them with such charisma that they all came closer. Now he started doing something that could only be described as magic. From his plate with the fish, he seemed to be pulling like plates with a serving  for each of the children and he went on to do the same with the rye bread pulling equal buns which he handed to each child and more bread that he fed all the squirrels with. And to top this when he poured the water on his glass, it turned into wine.
Now Rex Volf had never been a man of religious nature, but as he witnessed this he felt his mind illuminated with the conviction that he must hire this man to be in charge of the supply department in his seafood chain of restaurants.

Monday, January 3, 2011

RISIBLE. © Carlos de la Parra. (Spanish followed by English version, just clic down to read.)

`Meditaba acerca de mi presentación de comedia en el hospital de la senectud, ciertamente logré hacerlos reír, aunque no se si me pasé de la raya con el humor negro, como cuando les dije: "Me gusta trabajar en la zona de enfermos terminales, ahí los turnos son cortos pues antes de acabar el acto ya se murieron, y con el beneficio agregado de que los clientes muertos no reclaman ni critican. Miren mejor ríanse antes de que cuente los chistes pues a ustedes les quedan sólo 15 minutos. Les digo que cuando venía para acá a uno lo llevaban en camilla y al reconocerme me quiso hacer reír, y lo logró, hizo las caras más chistosas mientras agitaba sus manos como pa'ver si reconocía la imitación, le grité UN GORILA ESTREÑIDO, y los dos entramos en convulsiones, pero yo de la risa. Luego me enteré que lo que a él le pasaba es que se le acabó el oxígeno, tuve que taparme la cara y entre las carcajadas fingir que yo lloraba."
Creo más bien que la causa de mi despido fué por los dos que ahí mismo murieron de risa,
Que injusticia culparme a mí,si cuando llegué a dar el show ya estaban practicamente muertos.

ENGLISH VERSION

I had performed my duties as a comedian at the Senior terminal ward in the hospital that finally took the decision of firing me. I wonder why this happened. Perhaps I pressed too hard on the dark humor but to my hindsight it had been getting good laughs which is all you can demand from a comedian, for a medical approach they have doctors that can give you a countdown on how much air time you have left,
seriously I never told them how to do their job and they should not tell me how to do mine.
As I review my routine speech to find if there was something unappropiate or if I overdid myself in something, to my recollection the speech went something like this: ---If you prefer you may laugh first and I'll tell the jokes afterward, I am aware some of the audience here has only fifteen minutes left.
(pause for laughter), Yeah no wonder there were at least 20 buzzards perched on the trees outside the hospital ( more nervous laughter), man those birds are good finding food, (laughter) heck, I love working the terminal ward, never get any complaints from patients here, guess you guys don't have time to waste in that kind of stuff,  more like get me my oxygen or, where's my morphine?,(more laughs), yeah on my way here they had this guy rrolling down the aisle in a gurney and I see how he recognized me and he's making signs at me like he wants me to figure out what his mimic imitation is about and I get it and yell at him A CONSTIPATED CHIMP, and we both start cracking up , well at least I was because that old guy was having a heart attack, oh God he was funnyyyyyyy, too bad I couldn't bring him with us he could make the greatest faces, yeah too bad he's no longer with us ( laughter)---
See? There was nothing said out of the ordinary. Now it's dawning on me it's probably about those two old geezers that died laughing. Really unfair blaming me for that, they were already practically dead when the show started.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

NEO MIDAS. © Carlos de la Parra.( Spanish and English versions, clic down, each story intends to be out of the box. Some even make it.)

Esa mañana de enero sus propósitos de año nuevo rebasaban en ambición cualquier anhelo de su pasado. Se dedicaría a iniciar un gran negocio, estaba lleno de planes y detalles que lo llevarían infaliblemente al éxito. Con nitidez podía ver en lo interno de su mente como se convertiría en creador de un imperio.
Por el momento pediría prestados veinte pesos para comprar algo para el desayuno.

ENGLISH VERSION.
That january morning his new years resolutions soared higher than ever before.
He would start a new bussiness and his mind exploded with plans and projects full of details that guaranteed total success. It became crystal clear in his mind that he contemplated the surge of a great emporium.
Meanwhile he would go borrow ten bucks to get something for the family's breakfast.