Disadvantages Of Liquid Cooling Motors

"Yankee Doodle Went to town,
A-Riding on a pony;
I stuck a feather in His hat,
And Called it Macaroni.

Yankee Doodle, keep it up, Yankee Doodle dandy
;
Mind the music and the step, And with the girls
Be handy! "

This is my country, Snaige! Exclaimed

not know how to repress the spark of pride, with her undulating profile to my right and on the water of a dream. Snaige not respond. During the next twenty minutes remained silent. Looked abstracted landscape. We were detained at the center of the world (if the world has a heart for a refrigerator plant your base). The combination of light and the breeze were perfect at that time. Six o'clock on a bridge over the Detroit River.

barges bobbed back to the piers. And some boats just went into the lake to walk to a disheveled troops of tourists ... The photographic lens made a quick nod to capture the frames. And the afternoon perched on the buildings accommodating faces.

Towards the end of the bridge, a row of shops on our right opened on the edge of the pier. We took out there. The Chivichana glide silently on the street despite the damage that the salt should have done to the shot - I imagine at this point much more cancer than those balls with the neighborhood kids were playing angollos strain in the pleasures of the Luyano Celeste. Only later I realized this and other oddities that people persist in my memory (like the pungent odor of rotting seaweed and the occasional invasion of a sandy water in the fridge). For now all it seemed perfect, and too short to waste time with sonseras. It mattered little that the Chivichana be transformed into minivans or limos as we went along with the crowd of Hollywood Boulevard and Snaige down the window to see the spectacle of breakdancers , disjointed bones on the sidewalk as a scarecrow after a flood. The important thing is that we achieved our purpose. We were there .

This is my country, Snaige. When we finally arrived, bolus. Open your eyes. Mira. Do not miss every little show right now is walking behind the hinges of the doors that channel along the port .... You see that little bar on the corner ... ...? It looks like a Western with double doors sheets cut to the waist, to make your grand entrance to let them dancing your back, while people in the bar rotates in their seats to notice your presence ... Come bolus enters embullas do not you?

Snaige smiled sparingly. From the outside, we could hear the lively conversation that held dishes and cutlery on the tables of restaurants. The curtains betrayed the luxury (or lack thereof) in each establishment. And the fun and the shouting, the proletarian and middle-class origin of his parishioners. Merlot tops slid intoxicated by the tray carrying a hand during his first night to hear insults and have tips. In the bar, the jars were built to celebrate a spectacular touchdown in two-screen televisions. The crowd cheered, the shouting grew: - Go, Lions! Go! - Sir, do you want Another beer? - Make That two, Samuel Adams and a Budlight for my friend here! Long necks! This round is on me! No way! C'mon! - Snaige and I stopped, infected by the noise. Opening the door and let ourselves be overcome by the scent given off by the foaming beer to the bottles. All the pleasures of life are condensed into a smell, in a second. For a while I kept trying to differentiate the itch to leave the nose hairs distillation dark and clear. Mr. Guinness I won the palate and the heart by a large margin. Snaige I nodded and kept walking. Nine
Harley Davidsons
parked at the entrance of a seedy bar. Descending from the motorcycle leather jackets stood out on his shoulders that looked tattoos, snakes that coiled in spirals and Celtic signs, heads of prehistoric birds whose beaks fit in the bowels of bloody beasts, letters reproduced in a Gothic style alphabets unintelligible, and other signs of more comprehensible scripts that read I love you, mom, with a red heart pierced by a knife faces monstrous deities torn from the walls of palaces and pyramids of Amerindian tribes, threads of smoke blown and shod on the skin by burning pipes for pagan rituals ... The beer again encourage discussions of the bar. While this looks were more grim, joy, reticent, and the dialogues were full of spit and curses. The first punch of the night was cooked in the environment, while the wedging billiard balls sent beaten to death by a pit. Requiescat in pace .

... and into the opening of the city saw as a never-ending symphony. Left behind the skyscrapers of the famous Skyline Detroit leaning their shadows on the river lit. There were the Renaissance Center and the Guardian Building, the Penobscot and the Cadillac Place, then push the sky two hundred meters up, saluted this rapid martial aircraft. On the 39th floor of a tower RENC an executive of General Motors off the light from his desk before returning home. In the next office, the Chief tried to seduce his secretary invited me to a drink and a movie night. She hesitated for a moment as he waved the tickets in hand, then remembered the little offspring that awaited his return, he tried an excuse, grabbed the bag and took the elevator to his car . Vacuums came on and began eating the dust of the rugs conducted by brown hands. The night wore on As we went through the streets.

- What, bolo? You are quieter than the grave! Brutal're in, in Matria Facturanda , Say something!

Snaige smiled again. He seemed stunned by all the smells and invasion of new sensations. Sometimes your profile I walked away and returned to undulate in the distance of a memory ( felt the chill of a large fish on one side grazed my ). But what we routed the two were the lights around.

The night was a motley confusion of reflections and lights. The bodies could not exist - mere ghosts wandering the void - but his reflexes and shadows were unquestionable. There were lights went out, which was lit, which blinked in front of the lights flashing, bouncing against the glass of the windows, lights that emitted a beep red to read the bar code on the store cash registers, lights that illuminated boulevards, theaters, streets, ports, malls, alleys, zoos, hotels, neon lights that stretched over the front of the shops, lights decorating the station with banners and flowers muñecones; lights were lit on the soles of the shoes , on screens of TVs, phones, clocks, in handcuffs, in the earrings in lost keys; wired and wireless lighting, electrical and solar red, green, gray, orange, purple, fluorescent, black, lights that lit up his nose to light a cigar, and other red and blue bodies burned newspapers and warmed by the river lights police flashlights factions needed before extending the offender a fine, lights blazed in the factories to melt metals and melt the plastic, light-scented soap and rubber (rather like chlorine), popcorn and cotton sugar; lights that reverberated like a kaleidoscope on my door as the cab moved along the crowded streets of Downtown. Intense light falling on the crowd in a basketball arena.

... It was the oval of the Cobo Arena. Adrian Dantley had to score a three-pointer and the Pistons won now 74 to 72 against the Lakers. Snaige and I enjoyed, in the front row of the party.

... I could not believe it. It was my dream as always: see first hand the Pistons facing any big team in the NBA. did not think I could ever do - I said while smacking the ball smashed against the ground led by Magic Johnson along the field. The crowds cheered from the stands. Shouted Defense! Defense! Pistons came back fast to make their defensive marking. A player came so close to me that he escaped from his armpit sweat splashed me the door like a gust of salt. The Magic Johnson made a long pass and almost perfect (in the home TV slow motion better spell out the parable that made the ball from hand to hand), the attacker of the Lakers opened his eyes and mouth as a cannibal shaved to catching the ball in the air and beat the defense with the elbow (The referee did not see the need! What horror! Referee Texas, outside !!!); then there was a screen, a couple of good fakes, half twist that mocked two defenders, a leap, a dunk (Dunk ! ) and the game was tied 95 to 95.

The uproar was deafening. The guy sitting beside me, amid the excitement, I opened the door and pulled out a can of diet coke . The metallic sound of uncorking is echoed throughout the land. The director of The Pistons had called for a technical time to reconsider the strategy of play, the audience took recess to be filled drinks, and entertaining hands and teeth. The queues and pepsi coca colas were dispensed by the gallon, the parchment were 64 ounces half pound burgers, and pepperoni pizza were flying discs that families and friends disarmed and swallowed up in the air before the finished tray by resting on the arm of a seat. Mozzarella cheese running down their chins and pepperoni and red pepper smeared noses and some fronts. The game continued.

... dribbling, dribbling, dribbling, passing, dribbling, jumping, display, penetration, pistons, lakers, dribbling, jumping, 102 to 105, hype, more coke, more pizza, more pepsi, more baskets! Go Pistons! The human wave angry with the development of the game to get out of their chairs threw my raft on the shore. The murmur of the night grew on my head the image of Snaige was undulating, and the cries of the public now as I came through a funnel. The face of the guy to my right was stretched and distorted to take the form of an S . Pistons no longer faced the Lakers, but the Boston Celtics and the public had adorned the head with wigs of green algae and marine hermit crabs to encourage play. Go Celtics! - Snaige shouted. The bolus finally opened his mouth. Had remained silent since docked in Michigan (Detroit) and our rafts were no longer to become Chivichana limousines, out of the water. The large oval stadium soon as a tray lean on the shoulder of a drunken waiter put our jars of Guinness at the height of the lights that illuminated the field. The other half of the oval arena was plunged into the center court while the players ran the ball driving and pursued by an army of crabs. Michael Jordan nailed the last basket of the day. The game ended. The Chicago Bulls won by three points. The crowd dispersed. The stadium lights went out. The night was extended from north to south like an old circus tent. And a sandy water poisoned wine bar again with their dirty wind and surf intermittently.