The paths of life, and López Obrador's decision, led Ricardo Monreal and Marcelo Ebrard to sit down for breakfast in Zacatecas this weekend.
What did they say, that the penalties with bread are less?
Grapes, melon, pineapple, coffee, water on the table and next to it a study where it is clearly not studied.
Thus, the Zacatecan set for the photo of these morenistas who were previously PRI members - yes, they don't like to remember that - but who have also been, sometimes more, sometimes less,
lopezobradoristas.
Because Monreal and Ebrard have already been hanged by López Obrador.
Now they take the photo of the professionals of politics: arm in arm they smile, knowing that, in one of these, the bottle opener of destiny gives one of them, in a couple of years, reasons for total happiness.
That photo looks for a caption, they said on Twitter Sunday.
The first that comes to mind is what a barbarian Andrés Manuel, who forces them to cohabit.
Send Ebrard to the Monreal field with the presidential representation.
Have fun, it seems that López Obrador tells the networks.
Marcelo and Ricardo eat breakfast to be the talk.
Ah, the covered one, a game as entertaining as it is sterile.
The president pulls the strings. Zacatecas has been a permanent bloodbath for months. The entity above is broken. And the new governor does not have something on his record to help him believe that he will be able to handle that package. Ah, but the issue is what López Obrador has: let Marcelo go, so that they talk about that and not about a failed state that has in Fresnillo, the cradle of the Monreal, its epicenter.
Let's talk for today, then, about those who are not heading to the big one. From Marcelo and Ricardo back together. Like years ago, just check Google. Like days ago, when they invented a skateboard, Apatzingán for Afghanistan, so that they could talk about them, to get to the covers, always eager for trifles to privilege. If that lapse was in the Senate on August 28, now we invent a breakfast for them to say
go into
politics. Hey, but the cups don't have a trace of coffee. What difference does it make, as if when we really grilled we invited the photographers.
Hours later the image would be enlarged.
In the ceremony in the Zacatecan congress, Marcelo and Ricardo, together with David Monreal, the governor who could finish sinking Zacatecas, and next to these Mario Delgado and Ignacio Mier, from the Chamber of Deputies.
Party, Legislative and Chancellor, a trinity that sighs for a miracle.
The lonely Sheinbaum, in contrast, each week inaugurates works and
darkens
the capital more.
Although they throw a lot, those of the Zacatecan conclave do not weigh today what the capital's chief.
Will Monreal endure again losing to Claudia?
Will Marcelo discipline himself as usual?
While the Lord of the Palace comes back loaded from his headhunting tour (that's to say the talent thing), the non-elected chose to go take Zacatecas.
They may seek to emulate other feats accomplished in those lands.
It is my turn to be General Villa, I ask to be General Angeles.
Hard, at a gallop, to climb that steep thing that is La Bufa, a hill as stony as the presidential candidacy.
Well decided these generals of transformation.
How well the photo turned out.
But, it is not to spoil the party, neither Villa nor Angeles won, in the end, the Revolution.
For the record.
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