Since a child I had a strange fixation on foreign words, especially unusual surnames. I remember when I was 2 or 3 years, the plumber who made us work on the house was called Giuseppe LaCalamita . I have not the slightest idea of \u200b\u200bthe exact reason, but I found it hilarious the guy's name, so much so that I could not stand the temptation versioning its picturesque substantive and baptize the friend as Steak Calamita. Good morning, Mr. Steak!
Around the same time, my dad had a habit of betting at the racetrack and I used to look a certain Ricardo García Vizcaíno, very sonorous name worthy of a gentleman. When my father introduced him in the family, my sisters and me, always polite, with a huge smile exclaim in chorus, good afternoon, sir horse!
Near the house of my late grandmother lived an old German, very rare indeed, that every time you got it greeted with a pleasant guten morgen. Sofia, pure llanera know he had no reason to understand the Teutonic tongue, he answered gently: Good morning, Mr. Morgan! The sheath is
family ... Yes, I have thousands and thousands of examples of similar situations. I remember fondly Aguilarte Thomas, a carpenter who made us some jobs, better known as Mr. pliers , Mr. Jerome, the owner of a kiosk in San Luis, dubbed Mr newspaper, and Mr. management that my mother hired to process the license you drive so long ago ...
Finally, after inquiring into my memory, now I understand why the vast majority of my girlfriends have arrejuntarse and related compounds and sonorous names and surnames somewhat far-fetched. Who knows?
Around the same time, my dad had a habit of betting at the racetrack and I used to look a certain Ricardo García Vizcaíno, very sonorous name worthy of a gentleman. When my father introduced him in the family, my sisters and me, always polite, with a huge smile exclaim in chorus, good afternoon, sir horse!
Near the house of my late grandmother lived an old German, very rare indeed, that every time you got it greeted with a pleasant guten morgen. Sofia, pure llanera know he had no reason to understand the Teutonic tongue, he answered gently: Good morning, Mr. Morgan! The sheath is
family ... Yes, I have thousands and thousands of examples of similar situations. I remember fondly Aguilarte Thomas, a carpenter who made us some jobs, better known as Mr. pliers , Mr. Jerome, the owner of a kiosk in San Luis, dubbed Mr newspaper, and Mr. management that my mother hired to process the license you drive so long ago ...
Finally, after inquiring into my memory, now I understand why the vast majority of my girlfriends have arrejuntarse and related compounds and sonorous names and surnames somewhat far-fetched. Who knows?
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