Before the interesting and promising to flood our web content and give him a more or less vital at the same time detrimental to the intentions and background of such lofty project, we are obliged to inform you that we awakening passions beyond what is convenient.
no less (not more) of two people or individuals of questionable caliber have shown interest in being part of this adventure audiovisual. The three founding members have been obliged to consider their applications for membership in society, with hints of admitting ONLY ONE OF THEM, as a fellow worker benefits or compensations of any kind.
Without further ado, here I present to the candidates:
- Monxa , aka Marathon Man emerged from nowhere and there is back. La Mancha hosted its infancy, and the University of Valencia met its visual trickery. Unfazed graduating with honors scholarship combining his role in this production with menial jobs in a local chain of third row (Channel 9). In addition, he has taken to running. No, not a Renaissance man, is a normal person, even vulgar, disgusting. A wreck.
- Milton , the Great. The dawn of the new era that bathed the fields Criptana saw him born, and welcomed him with songs of goldfinch and the murmur of the streams in bloom. Milton had been born for something, and soon demonstrated. Worked hard in the University of St. Sylvester Winery, where Christ lost his hat. Their gear taster preceded him until a famous film critic and last name Boyero advised to convert their skills to the seventh art, as it gives more money, prestige and social position of flipao desahogao. Milton, eager to follow his advice, he met the powers of Internet skills as a speaker sizes and found his own corner in the renowned Asobinaos blog, where he gained a name and reputation have taken him from head to this one place of creativity and inanities.
Well, this is said and done what's done is just announced and will take out the selection process:
After submitting their requests for formal, sealed, secured and pasteurized, both candidates should appear before the Court of Founding Fathers of the Partridge, disguised as thrush (thrush I said, no hawk or dove), and an unlit torch in his hand. Should be able to light them with nothing but their own saliva, and then turn on the scalp of the competitor, or one of the judges alike. Which happens to be living quarters, and then we'll see. Also convene a survey national or Atlantic, that is the public itself to decide his fate, much to the reality.
Two weeks after all that the Founding Fathers decide what they please.
Come
will we see the Republic Day.
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