OPD
Officially pronounced dead.
That's so funny, some guy wrote to me pronouncing me officially dead, just because I don't write what he wants to read. Tough luck.
There's no chance on Earth or Hell or Heaven that I am gonna write anything with the purpose of making anybody happy because that's what they were expecting me to give them a beautiful ray of sunshine in the morning.
N.I.M.B. Not in my blog.
The funniest thing in the world is that I have been OPD a couple of times before, by tyranny minions. Imagine the face of some friends of mine back in Havana when they found me in the Necropolis taking photos of some monuments, and -unbeknownst to me- the rumor was that I had died. I had to convince them that ghosts don't go around with a Russian copy of a Leica taking shots of other ghosts in a cemetery in broad daylight.
OPD was also the armband that Paul sported in the Sargeant Pepper Lonely Hearts Club cover, but it actually meant Ontario Police Department. There was the speculation of him being dead and walking at the same time on the cover of the Abbey Road. Hey, I am barefoot now. I've been walking barefoot in a lonely building for a couple of hours. Am I dead just because of that?
I was OPD also when I left Cuba.
I was not OPD for a lot of people, even if some of them had to pretend that I was OPD. So what do I care if I am officially pronouced dead by you, Mano Negra? (deadly advise: change that Mano Negra handler dude, that's a ridiculous moniker, it sounds like something a crossdresser will call himself. Who suggested it to you, raul?)
Maybe you share the same inclinations to supress people from history with the kasstros.
But I have news from you -otherworldly news if you must- you can't just go pronouncing people dead and expecting that they behave if they were really dead.
Please tell me what's the different between you and the kasstroites.
They ban people, they take them to the shooting squad, and they officially pronounce them dead.
Now, you haven't shot me, even if I suspect you would draw some wicked sexual satisfaction by doing it, but you still pronounce me dead.
I am sorry to disappoint you.
That's so funny, some guy wrote to me pronouncing me officially dead, just because I don't write what he wants to read. Tough luck.
There's no chance on Earth or Hell or Heaven that I am gonna write anything with the purpose of making anybody happy because that's what they were expecting me to give them a beautiful ray of sunshine in the morning.
N.I.M.B. Not in my blog.
The funniest thing in the world is that I have been OPD a couple of times before, by tyranny minions. Imagine the face of some friends of mine back in Havana when they found me in the Necropolis taking photos of some monuments, and -unbeknownst to me- the rumor was that I had died. I had to convince them that ghosts don't go around with a Russian copy of a Leica taking shots of other ghosts in a cemetery in broad daylight.
OPD was also the armband that Paul sported in the Sargeant Pepper Lonely Hearts Club cover, but it actually meant Ontario Police Department. There was the speculation of him being dead and walking at the same time on the cover of the Abbey Road. Hey, I am barefoot now. I've been walking barefoot in a lonely building for a couple of hours. Am I dead just because of that?
I was OPD also when I left Cuba.
I was not OPD for a lot of people, even if some of them had to pretend that I was OPD. So what do I care if I am officially pronouced dead by you, Mano Negra? (deadly advise: change that Mano Negra handler dude, that's a ridiculous moniker, it sounds like something a crossdresser will call himself. Who suggested it to you, raul?)
Maybe you share the same inclinations to supress people from history with the kasstros.
But I have news from you -otherworldly news if you must- you can't just go pronouncing people dead and expecting that they behave if they were really dead.
Please tell me what's the different between you and the kasstroites.
They ban people, they take them to the shooting squad, and they officially pronounce them dead.
Now, you haven't shot me, even if I suspect you would draw some wicked sexual satisfaction by doing it, but you still pronounce me dead.
I am sorry to disappoint you.
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