El hielo de mi cubata se deshizo al verte entrar por la puerta. Yo me mantuve en pie. Tu escote llamaba la atención, hay que reconocerlo. Pero lo siento, nena. A mí no me engañas.
Tu escote era un escote populista, que muestra lo que todos quieren ver; un escote mitinero que, de tan evidente, huele a chamusquina.
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The ice in my drink melted when I saw you coming in through the door. I kept standing. Your cleavage was drawing attention, I have to admit it. But sorry, babe. You don’t fool me.
Your cleavage was a populist one, that shows what everybody want to see; a demagogic cleavage that is so obvious, that it smells fishy.
