
were 70 meters that separated me from that pig repressor. My mind was filled with calculations, numbers, equations with strange signs, at a maximum speed of 40 kilometers per hour, with the wind against a weight of seven kilograms of ballast in my backpack and a blow whose force equivalent to 500 newtons would permanently disfigure a face, had an opportunity to avenge those who have been victims of their wild hosts, right in the World Day of Press Freedom (or anti).
His closest fellow was too far away to intervene and were too fat to catch up after releasing the chingadazo and flee the scene. But then I realized the potential emergence of a new martyr in the Mexican labor movement useless and I regretted. Chá
!
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