Don Henley Wants Me Dead

After writing the last post I went home, where someone was working on putting a new door on a friend of the family's car. He was listening to the radio and I was dismayed to hear "Hotel California" in Spanish. I could not escape it anywhere I went in the house or, it seems, in the entire city of Xela. If I knew such a travesty had been recorded in Spanish I may have thought twice about learning the language.

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