May 16, 2022 8:57 am

The ailments of Julio Iglesias





the architect is dead Ricardo Bofill Levi, a nomadic genius, architect of glory. At some point we got to know him as the father of Ricardo Bofill, that very entertaining boy who went to ‘Tómbola’ to host the party of his adventures. The death of the architect brings us, along with his sumptuous obituary, the present of Ricardo son, who finally leads a hidden life, according to the advice of the wise man, which his father always preferred. For him, and for anyone. Boffil son spent, like his illustrious father, a certain elegance of carelessness, but just unlike his father, he distracted his career for a few years. Our Bofill did not have time to marry that idle porcelain cellulite called Chábeli Iglesias Preysler, and, naturally, he did not have time later to separate by the rite of urgency.

The slip did not prevent him from filming a video of both, like happiness in the times of good children, which was put up for sale some Christmas, already remote, and that only had a clientele among the family. Things of love. Later, Ricardo fell in love with such a Pauline Rubio, by profession a singer, cute as a beast, who scolded him with a Mexican accent. The gossip magazines, which were, for times, the Official Gazette of the boy’s life, gave us a timely account of all these ups and downs. Later, he was in charge of twisting what was said, or entangling it, on the throne of the television set that he had in ‘Tómbola’, where he acted as an arsonist with a posh tone. It was a face and a face. A golfers with email. A cool guy with a girlfriend, sergeant. Neither we, nor he, those of that time, are the same.

Muguruza, during the interview with Fran RiverA
Muguruza, during the interview with Fran RiverA


Garbiñe Muguruza He has confessed to Francisco Rivera that he has only set foot in a nightclub twice. And that you don’t like the site at all. The bullfighter, who has been with her for a while, in the south, brings admiration for Garbiñe’s physical state, so resounding, and it is true that the tennis player imposes, because I treated her for a while, on TV, and it’s like a giantess passed by slenderness. It comes and goes within a team bubble, because if not, there is no way to win anything properly. He also said that to Fran, and to me, back in the day. Now, the entire team caught coronavirus, except for her, and has lost spirit, reprise, apotheosis. Immediately it returns what it is.


olivia culpo She is a Miss Universe, North American zone, who almost got off a plane, because her attire included a navel. And the navel cannot travel to the air. Beyond the picturesque news, there is the news that the miss, Universe or not, still exists. It’s been years since I forgot about every miss, and the news even gave me a scare at the time that in the BOE it came out that “the Miss Spain SL Contest is declared a voluntary contest.” In other words, there was not a euro left for the racket. The miss has always gone to more, but suddenly it had been left in less. In nothing. Being miss, when the title was powerful, consisted of a falling crown, tears because you won, and leaving your boyfriend in town, to come to Madrid to meet people. I think that women are a literary genre, and not a few seasons I applied myself as a chronicler, at the foot of miss, when the contest was a convoy of cuties that lasted a week and was broadcast on TV. It was fun and you brought a prose poem to the newspaper that was always the same, although changing the name of the winner. Honestly, I don’t think we lost much if a beauty pageant turned into a creditors’ meeting one day, because there will always be misses, with or without a title, and because “beauty is frequent, like truth”, according to Borges’ sacred maxim. If they lose, of course, all those dreamy girls in bloom from the provinces, who want a future in the varieties, and let’s see how you manage it now without a shortcut of queen of beauty, diploma included, and a bouquet of interflora, which is usually stay the mother But there are still misses, and they get on the plane to have their navel censored.


Agatha Ruiz de la Prada comes to summarize in his style the news of the week: «I like him fatally. We are all with Cristina.


The poor health of Julio Iglesias It is a guadian theme. And he, under novelty, has suddenly appeared to say that he is fine. I don’t know if he’s more concerned that he doesn’t say anything, or that he comes out of his more or less tropical golden distances to release the reassuring paragraph that doesn’t usually reassure. He says that he underwent an operation on his leg, but that he is immediately on the chopping block. What happens with Julio is that he is already carrying many years, seventy-eight. specific. Julio, over the years, already has the head of his father, the unforgettable Iglesias Puga, cunning as a whip, who left me a summer phrase for all winters: «Herrera, a man’s project is to die among beautiful women ». That’s where Julio’s son’s life motto is already, naturally. Puga, whom the hesitant press abbreviated to Papuchi, gave me, for years, the mobile numbers of his successive bodyguards, in addition to his own, because that’s how we were “very connected” according to him. It was surreal and mischievous, somewhere between urchin grandfather and self-impersonator. He was always on tour, with Julio, only on tour without singing. Julio says that it’s going well, which is like saying that I’m still alive there. With the ailments typical of his fifth.

See them

Comments (0)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.