How To Break Into A Moped Seat

BENT COLUMN - clothing design

Adolescence is a land of myths. Necessarily. Turning point in anyone's life, borders becoming increasingly blurred and that convention here limit between 13 and 20, the teen years are fertile ground for stories that make history: ours. (The Castilian in this case envy the elasticity of English, able to discern between story and history). Stories that time inflates until that memory is fragile and transmuting into imagination takes flight, and goes away. All-who else who less-we have built a hero to the measure of desire and let you live at that time, far from reality, that this will not be damaged. But it happens that heroism is a concept labile, and one that fills him with pride to others is the epitome of pure and simple bullshit. Not the first time I pigeonholed so effectively, nor the last.
In the '80s there was no Internet or Playstation and entertainment had to have imagination and goodwill. The punk I was then, at the right time, and spent three fun years of my life. "They realized that mythology and mythomania are sisters by the mother? Digressions aside, said he had a good time. One of the advantages of punk is that it allows individual recreation, the demolition of a model that you hate and building a new one from the wreckage. That's why I love to ride to punk all broken, and in ruins. It was then that I started to change shirts that I bought at home shirts intervened, in which the old Fido Dido showed his attributes, or other, where under an erect penis and muscular signed myself "I'm a dick." But My greatest achievement was the mutilation of a suede jacket, which he grafted 75 Phillips screws on the back. A night raid, a noncommissioned officer praised me take very seriously before a ride on patrol. He said, "Take off that shit, baby, you're going to ruin the upholstery."
In the '80s there was no Internet or playstation, nor phones with digital cameras. Pay for a photo of those years. Pay ... but not much. The picture does not get along with the myths.

Column originally published in the supplement Culture Argentine Time.