Yes, the redneck beardless photo is Dan Brown, author of "The Da Vinci Code." Spain is now published his novel "Digital Fortress", which is set in the Seville 90. And apparently the nonsense you release this magician of the letters have no waste. I'll take one:
"Cranberry juice is a popular drink in Spain, but always accompanied by something else, like vodka" (p. 172).
This guy is breathtaking. Does cranberry juice? Anyone who scratched his pocket to buy the best-seller of this son-of-bitch-hack-to-fifth-row you would have to drop their heads in shame. And someone tells you that you have read (but not bought) "The Da Vinci Code." Yes, I read because the plot was devouring me, because I wanted to know where was the grace of the book. If I go down the street and I find a crowd of people watching something, I go up to see what happens. I'm the kind. I grew up in a town where an ambulance siren sounding in the distance reaches the range of outstanding event. So I could not help taking a look at the "Code." I will not dissect this novel of shit here. This comment is not about "The Da Vinci Code." It's about Dan Brown. About a guy who used topical resobados and cheap TV movie frames. About a guy who is swelling to break bread with the exercise of a profession that is very great. About a writer who is so goofy that does not bother to find out that cranberry juice is pure underground in Spain and, yet, ranks among the best sellers in our country.
By the way, "Digital Fortress"? A stinking noventero title for a novel published in the 90 that we now try to sell as a novelty.
By the way, Dan, your haircut is pure poetry.
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