Thanks Giving Letter To Your Gf

Gang Bangs of New York - Part Three

And a bottle of wine is gone . The funeral was very moving, especially when alcohol abusers, who have gathered together around the void, have shed rivers of bitter tears. Tears of bitterness. Inconsolable, I raise my hand in an attempt to draw the attention of the waiter and ordered another one. The girls enact a pantomime labile that should stop the impromptu bacchanal New York, but nothing, now, can prevent the rite of going forward, not even the Divine Otelma . In fact, here, the new bottle, which stands on the table, arrogant, conceited, swollen ruddy nectar. Nectar that it takes a little dry. The drought alcohol is a tragedy with a hint of revenge, like a guillotine, fell on our mental drought. The symptoms are easily recognizable and touch on a wide range of inner states euphoria and leaving port, inevitably, to the self-loathing, penance, mortification and the vision of the last films by Massimo Boldi . It takes guts and I have played with him the last years of cuba libre. In short, after having delighted my fellow travelers with deep talk about anything, I had to attend an existential drama that I was momentarily blocked arteries, preventing oxygen to bring food to my brain. One of the two girls, turned pale version of a corpse, it seems clinically close to death and shewn outline all of a sudden, he began to nod like a good ultra-orthodox jew, but rather to the highest heaven, I seems to yearn for a Las Vegas hotel toilet bowl. I try to get information about his physical condition, which worsened with each passing second.

"How do you feel?"

from his mouth come the cries that I can hardly understand.

"You must go to the bathroom?"

From slurred speech impenetrable extrapolates something that looks like a 'no'. I take it in word but I'm afraid already that the inevitable unfortunately, occurs about ten minutes later when, opening a gap in the melee of people, I get rid of the first line of defense, and the extreme excess, opening to kick the bathroom door, I half inserting the head of the dying in the water. From a body so thin and graceful exits a jet of a devastating power that, as a Kerr black hole , curved space time and spins. The girl is now a raging torrent and I have not even the number of civil protection. When he finally falls in the banks, the carry-over to the table where, shortly after, he collapsed. After a few minutes, the same scene is repeated, only this time the bathroom is occupied and I have to direct the hydrant on the sidewalk. Meanwhile, people crowded into the room waiting for a table. Thus, the factotum of the city, Akiva, namesake of the famous rabbi, much of which, unfortunately, inherited only the name, after checking in a totally hypocritical of the girl's condition, invites us to bring our asses from a Semitic ' On the other hand .

"There are people waiting"

stirred by such humanity, I get the lucciconi eyes. I instantly convert to Zen Buddhism and try to solve a koan that question that makes the sound of one hand clap-printed on the face of violence sympathetic Akiva. Enlightened, I reach the awareness Akiva is an asshole. We just have to follow the suggestion. I am sure that two steps and a bit 'fresh air will benefit the malnourished of our friend. I get up, I put the cappoto and when I have one foot out the door, going on the irreparable: the dewatering discharge all of its contents, or almost on the floor and the table. With Tubular Bells in the background, I understand that now remains for me to do not rely on the experience of a good exorcist . Father Mayii. Petrified embarrassment, I humbly apologize to all those who are eating, those who hunted our place now and instead are giving generously to newcomers, and already there are, I apologize for that time you touched me while I ate pastries with cream while watching a movie by Walt Disney. We bring out the demonic that is continuing its work, after having made the first completely turn his head a few times around his neck. I know, I always have this effect on women. Then, stunned, collapses on a bench . A nose, I doubt that he will take the bus back to Newark, where to stay temporarily with an aunt. After a round of phone calls, we to book a room in a hotel not far from Times Square . The other girl proposes to take the subway, an idea that budding at once. Note the straightway.

"I think it's better if you stop a taxi"

Sometimes I still wonder to myself. We raise the arm and as if by magic a taxi, coming from somewhere, approaches. We go inside, suffering first, me and the other half to close the procession. The driver, who is not an idiot, immediately senses that lurks beneath an attack organized by the Zionist Mossad, so we politely asked to get off:

"I do not want me to dirty the taxi." I recognize his reasons, why a lifetime ago when I was a clean-shaven without a license and right to vote, I found myself in a dark forest, drunk, and after that in a taxi with the taxi driver asked my friend if I could to get back home and my friend asked me if I could get home and I answered that yes yes yes and then that I drew on the interior of the car and the taxi driver who did not ask anything, and my friend who does not asked nothing but a long awkward silence. I respond, displaying a certain swagger:

"Do not worry. If so, I warn you in advance. "

It does not even engage the second time that the pump fire on my left is about to embark upon. The danger is approaching, I must act quickly:

"Excuse me, pull you mind ... immediately! "

The problem is that it can not. Not then. In these situations, however, timing is everything. While slows down and tries to find an open space in which to stop, left the door open wide , thus draining the flux capacitor of this DeLorean that a clear loss to the tank. The taxi driver tries to turn around but we get distracted by the fact phrases, clichés and supercazzola copyright. The journey to the hotel is long and tortuous. Once downloaded, the legendary holy pay driver and enter the lobby of the hotel. It is not over yet. The lady, after being saved, edited and scamper, he complains of the excessive price of the room. Mah! Part immediate round of phone calls and retrieve another few meters ahead, and many dollars back. We rush at once. During registration, signature amenities and fittings different, I accommodate the queen of effort a chair, where it sinks and disappears. One of the two boys at the reception, which is observing the scene, she smiles and shows me the bathroom door. I smile at my time and do that inside that body no longer There's nothing . Nothing. Finally, recovered the key, we bring in the room, you slip under the covers, turn off the light and good night. I'm exhausted. Accompany him at his hotel the other girl. She looks into my eyes. I look into your eyes. She looks into my eyes. I look into your eyes. She looks into my eyes and then I think, but what will have to look into my eyes, are always stuck on my nose . I said goodbye and walked towards my hotel. Half an hour of walking. Once you open the door of the room, I collapsed on the bed, lifeless. Before going into hibernation, I think, after all, could have been worse. For example ... for example ... be ', maybe not. Good week to all!

ps: more. Maybe ...

New Job And Vicodin Testing

Gang Bangs of New York - Part Two

You should know that Broadway is a rather long way . About 20 km from one end of Manhattan. So, better to know exactly where to go. Exactly. Having carefully examined the map, lift his head and with a flourish, pointing forward, I point to my two guests in the right direction and call you to follow. The whipping wind became more violent but I tetragon the blows of chance, I will not be intimidated.

"Is it far?" I ask politely.

"No, will be a maximum of ten minutes on foot." Fifteen, count against the breeze. When minutes, however, have passed wind, on the face of the two Israeli appears an expression of disappointment. I look around, check the map again and I urge fellow travelers to continue:

"We're almost there!"

Ten more minutes. I begin to notice some discrepancies between what was encoded on paper and my faculties of interpretation. In fact, checking the street numbers, I realize that we have gone far beyond the designated destination. One hundred and fifty numbers. However, in my defense, I can say that if the Niña, the Pinta and the Santa Maria had been equipped with GPS devices, we could not sink its jaws into a double cheesburger covered with layers of onion. Go back to not talk about it either. We go into a store and ask for advice area of \u200b\u200bthe premises to a contract that will have no more than sixteen years. She, unleashing an infectious smile that puts on display its technological braces, there suggests a just around the corner. So, here we are on the ground floor of this building, in front of a desert bar. It closed. The elevator is a plate with some names.

"Oh, look: I think we go up to the fifth floor. " For alcohol I become a truffle hound . The two blindly follow their prophet metropolitan , even if they start to show a little impatient. When the elevator door opens before us is an infinite expanse of dresses hanging neatly on the hangers that fill the entire space of the loft. Who knows where the bottles of rum?

"Can we help you?"

How do turtles stretch their necks out of their shell to burn a little 'grass, we leaned out of the elevator and see to our left, hidden by a wooden bar that runs around them, are sitting in front a computer, two girls and a boy looking at us quizzically. We explain why we are there. smile and tell us that the bar is at ground level and that this is a studio . American, Etel.

So no rum?

between a sentence and another, known that the boy suffers from a tic in his left eye . One of the two Israeli approaches and whispers in my ear: "I think he likes . So, I'm not in a bar and the boy did not suffer any tics. Nothing is what it seems, except the fact that I, at that time, I look like an idiot, even if it was all just a dream. The dream of an idiot.

I try to take it to my advantage. Deployed the army of incisors, canines, molars and pre molars, and with oratory that even Shakespeare's Mark Antony with his "Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears", I urge you to show off the smile unbeatable . I ask the guy if he knows a nice place to have a drink and maybe a bite to eat well. He was hit by unmentionable sexual drives, falters, then regained control, fiddles with the computer and seconds later gives me not only a printed page with the name and address of the premises - and the small, bottom right, should instead be his phone number -, but also the model of the restaurant with a lot of Bruno Vespa attachment and a set of glazed pots that I bring home only $ 49 plus shipping. We thank and salute us on our way again. Ten more minutes of running. The post, which is hidden behind an anonymous door, it's really cute. Sensitive: a bar, five tables and a toilet. With our luck, one of the tables is free and does not care if the seats are only two and I have to stay off the bench with half ass and knees wedged under the table. We order. Or rather, I order. Mussels marinara, a taste of this, a taste of that and a bottle of fine and expensive Italian red wine . The Israeli seek to prevent such a waste of pecuniary, fearful of having to pay much more than turn the mortgage at the end of dinner, but I, full of spirit tafazziano, utter a phrase that some critics have called "an epigram which is the vividness with emptiness existence of its author "

" You are my guests. "

The crowd paid tribute to me with a standing ovation and the greek chorus instantly reaches catharsis. I just have to say goodbye inviting you to reflect on a thought so deep and deferred until the next episode, where you can read about diabolical possession and betrayal platonic. Good week to all!

Prom Dress Stores Around Walden Galleria

Gang bangs of New York - Part

The imposing skyline in black and white and the clarinet glissando in Rhapsody in Blue . So opens the brilliant comedy of the 1979 Woody Allen . And this for me was the idea I had of Manhattan until last November 5 when, landing at midnight at New York JFK , I found myself in front of a galaxy of lights I takes the breath away. At least until the next day, when, still dazed by the latest from travel and change time zone, leaving the dilapidated hotel, and I begin my pilgrimage to a week on the streets of the Big Apple . The city is a gigantic madeileine that awakens in me memories continue films ranging from comedies by Woody Allen in Once Upon a Time in America, When Harry Met Sally Taxi Driver, by Sex and the City - the series television, because the films tend to be chronic yawning - West Side Story and I could go on like this all over the page. But it is not very funny. What the big screen can not give you is the level of continuous noise exasperating, 24-hour 24, but I will write this later. Let me tell you instead of adventure capitatami few days after my arrival in this Babel for a few cosmopolitan tourists - several, actually - is nothing but a huge shopping mall where satisfy their instincts of compulsive buying. was the first time I was traveling alone and , I assure you, the experience memorable solo gives pearls. Things first.

Tuesday, November 9. Downtown New York. The bright day, the unexpectedly mild climate and the colorful palette of autumn colors me full satisfaction of having chosen this time of year to explore one of the most classic destinations. The route today was decided by consulting the Bible of the average traveler, the Lonely Planet , includes Ground Zero, Wall Street - including balls of the bull - and the ferry to Staten Island, the only way to see more or less closely the Statue of Liberty, since, after dealing with the heroic code of the 'Empire State Building , Rockefeller Center and MoMA , I have no intention of getting another row that mileage will increase the number of wrinkles on my face. Japanese-style, is a prosthesis camera and immortalizing path in the fixity of digital architecture at the mercy of a time when everything has already passed. I do not have the decency to stop in front of a place that has hosted a tragedy not only for the United States, but throughout the Western world. In my defense I can only say that those photos were later cleared. Given that there was to see, and watch dozens of people who, like stupid, are photographed together with that horned bull is not really the best scenes in the best of possible worlds but you know, hard to ignore the attraction of souvenir photos, moderm totemic fetish, I headed to the South Ferry pier to board the ferry to Staten Island . The mass of people gathered at the entrance reminds me of being in the right direction. Only problem: Where does the ticket? Without a black policeman, reproduction of the Statue of Liberty, but big, and expose the improcrastinabile question.

"It's free," he thunders with his voice on the bass.

Oh yeah? The trip begins to like. I almost do it two speeds, on the ferry. When the man of the Monte says yes, the crew is channeled politely on the catwalk, as long as elbowing and jostling to be taught daily in the famous Oxford course "The camallo that is in us: the ontology and semantics of swearing in kicking ass." Because I want to capture the old lady with the ice cream cone in hand, I start looking for the stairs, I am sure I will in the outside of the ferry where I can grab the best place for me pseudo art. A mole would do a better job: no navigation system, my mission seems destined for a sure way to failure. Disappointed, I sit in front of the window . Better than nothing. However, I still do to win. Beside me, two girls, probably American. They will help me.

"Excuse me, do you know if there is an external part of the ferry where you can take some pictures?". I ask this but I'll translate in English because I know that Monday is a difficult day for everyone. They get to confabulation. In Hebrew . Maybe I'm not American.

"Are you Israeli?" . Sometimes I'm amazed of my disproportionate IQ. The bait has been launched. So, after telling of the deep bond that binds me to the country where they come from - the Israeli girls with tits genetically modified by Galina and hummus in Tel Aviv -, let us know. The hour drive there and back, passes between a word vomited continuously and my photographic reportage puts me through tendinitis in his right hand index fulminant curable, according to doctors of international reputation, with the only ' amputation of the right brain. Once off again in Manhattan, the two ask me if I want to join them for a walk along the Battery Park suggestive. I understand the hint, and I accept with pleasure the invitation . So we walk and a cigarette in one hand and camera in the other, the storyteller with tales excited and involved in my Italy. I did not know to be so patriotic, but the distance from home produces these effects. Or perhaps the effect is produced by something else ... And while the sun sets and the Statue of Liberty is swallowed by the winter twilight darkness who became an hour ahead of schedule - again made his appearance the summer time - we decide that it is too early to say goodbye. An appetizer before the leave is what you need. Draw your Lonely Planet as a Jedi with his lightsaber, and having reviewed the names and reviews, find the right place for us. Then, pull out the map, the open waging a fierce battle with the wind and, when I noticed that I'm reading backwards, I take it the right way - the maps, like all things female gender must always be taken in the right direction - and I can finally decode it and to establish a starting point and way to go to reach the coveted goal of alcohol. Down there, on Broadway! It is the beginning end, but for the rest of the story you have to wait Monday. Good week to all!

Does Implantation Bleed Have Tissues?

And NIU 'DIIL FOR ME AND NEVER LAIF

Shah Raghèz!

As mentioned in the title, is a new working life for cuminzè el Dazwo.

cacuzzòli Those blacks who see sciopra scion my new life mission: Far

sciòldi cacchette with the rabbit?

NO.

Ariccia with goat droppings?

noo. Briatore

Competing with the proceeds derived from the evacuation of hamsters allowed?

NOOOOO.

After an instructive trip to Middle Eastern lands and dazzled by the sun of rabies from Austrian lire sciòpratutto Sciaudìta but we turn around, I sold my soul to the devil and I accepted a job offer: Sell

oil.

No, I have taken the Fratelli Carli Imperia http://www.carli.com/OlioCarli/ , the curious cacuzzolini blacks are rapeseed.

In this period of absence, my life has been immersed in oil, a fullimmersciòn.

I will take a mortgage to pay for laundry.

Sample Sbi Power Of Attorney

Choosing Dazwo

are back.

Loso Loso, I frayed the Maronites.

I love you with all my heart and the liver but, unfortunately, work forced me to life choices that I have permission to be here (dedicandomicivisinidicivi) with due respect for you. Despite this

that are here, the old Dazwo and his Orchestra, to remedy these ills in the coming days and we ammorberà with new stories, so if you want me.

At Salut.

"

Censor Light Staying On Problem

Big Wednesday drunkards

The question going on in my skull for a while '.

"In between, there are sharks in Santa Cruz?"
Francis: 'Well, yes. However, the latest attack goes back to a decade ago "

Excellent. I have no idea what that means, but good. Did the Californian surfers are not the tastiest as it once was. Or maybe that sharks feel competition from lawyers and bankers prefer to hold a line absent.

Francis: "In the case, a good punch on the nose "

Now I feel more comfortable. The six years of boxing I will be served at least something. If I find myself face to face with a shark, column left, right hook. Then comes the referee to count and you're done. Even my traveling companions, now that I'm aware of, feel more relaxed. In fact, ask politely if possible, in the case, run aground on the beach and build tracks for the balls or engage, as a last resort, the game of tennis.

Shark or not, will never give up occasion of surfing in California . At least once in my life. And the clear day, with its 28 degrees, is none other than the seal Pope's final. A Nov. 3 that I do not forget easily. Zurich and its polar climate are reminiscent blown away by the ocean breeze.

Di Francesco I think this thing I speak at least a year.

"When you come visit me in the U.S., I bring you to surf . The promise was kept. Thus, at 4 pm, we are all in the car in the direction of Santa Cruz as leader, I on the side and behind L, S and D. Usually I never use the names of those who appear in my posts, but in this I express the eternal gratitude to Frank for the realization of a dream that I carry around since I saw for the first time Big Wednesday . to board California girls. Traffic

strong but smooth. We are all excited . Francis, after learning of my limbs by professional killer, played another card. That wave. Six feet tall. And while D, behind, it becomes increasingly pale cerulean, mozzarella with a hair to the Renegade, I'm impipo, because my brain can not grasp the concept. And then, what do you want to be two meters in the air for someone who has survived ten editions of Big Brother ? continue on the road between curves and parabolic curves . The tall milk Blockbuster, a version of our cappuccino strip stars specifically created to subjugate dilated stomachs of Americans, runs frantically in my duodenum and for some moments I felt that I had turned into something of aircraft, impalpable. Type a fart, but with more teeth. Francis, who after all is a good soul, he decided to relieve the kamikaze mission by giving a quick lesson basics to learn before entering the water table. I pretend to pay attention and in the meantime I guess while I ride the wave and three Playboy bunnies, there, on the beach, going crazy for my tricks and my sculpted biceps lifting and lowering for entire nights glasses of cuba libre . I must remember call the old Hugh before returning to Italy. Maybe he needs a hand. L, however, play casually with your cell phone while S, which claims to know Italian, shows no sign of assent with his head even though I strongly doubt that he does not understand anything. D is the only one who seems really interested in the lesson . An interest in terror, so much so that few minutes later, possessed by the spirit of Furio Bianco, Rosso e Verdone, asks in turn: water temperature, wind speed and direction, moisture content, specific gravity of the table and a bitter Lucan. If I remember correctly. On arrival, we are looking for a place that rents equipment necessary. The guy in the shop, baseball cap on his head and dazed expression by salt and too many years passed before a mirror to squeeze the pimples, none of it to rent the tables . The waves are too high for a beginner. D while passed out. Francis explains that there is nothing to fear because, if Michael Phelps can continue to break one record after another, it is only thanks to the fact that I, humble guy and noble mind, I prefer to stay behind the scenes and let him. So if things go wrong, I am their Mitch Buchannon. The guy glances at me. Maybe not if drink it. The guy says occhei occhei. Maybe if you drink. Ten minutes later we're at the beach. I must admit I put my suit was not easy, and the matter was complicated further by the fact that the first time I am putting the upside, a clear sign of early dementia. Before entering the water, we lie on the tables and try to jump on maintaining the equilibrium position. Attempts are very compassionate and seen from afar, seem four beached seals. And those who see spinning on our noses, yes, your balls are. 'Nuff said, it's time to take action. Know that when you say the ocean water is cold, they lie. Indeed, it is frozen and my feet instantly undergo a process of cryogenics , becoming two plaques that hang from the inert legs. The beginner surf is just waiting spasmodic wave, a pagaita continues with weak arms and even the physical well-trained enough because forget to ride the wave. To tell the truth, and do not ask how she did it, I've got done. I managed to win the coveted position and I was relieved to heaven . I had already pointed the finger pattern Judgement. An incredible feeling. I remember thinking, "What figat ...", but I could not even to complete the thought - a real shame, I'm sure, for the elite intellectual world - that the wall of water, an unstoppable avalanche, I slammed down centrifuged at thirty degrees, and for four or five seconds I was the mercy of this incredible force of nature, incapable of discernment, to recognize right from left, from below and above the PD from the PDL. In short, the perfect tronista.

The day ended later in the most dignified, or four beers before , the distant roar of the waves, ideal foundation for a twilight melancholy that has that taste of something that is over and that, alas, will never return more, because yes, I already said Heraclitus, everything inevitably flows. As our lives. Thanks for Francesco, 34 years, and I write without rhetoric, I realized again what it means to be a child - that's why my penis out of the water was so tiny ... Good week to all!

The Symptoms Of The Black Death

Californication

How can the nine and a half of a sunny and unusually warm Saturday morning in Zurich supermarket has already been a crossroads for people ? I have no answer. Instead, I have another question, and it's yours: how is it that at nine and a half of a sunny and unusually Zurich mild Saturday morning you are in a supermarket shopping? Well, the answer I have. Jet lag . Allow me a bit 'of your attention and I explain how things went.

all starts October 30, when the window of Zurich becomes smaller and smaller until it becomes a scaled map. I am sure that is the bottom dot in Zukunft. I expect 12 hours of travel. This is the time it takes to travel the thousands of miles that separate me from San Francisco . As you can see, unless your pumpkin has not landed on the anvil of two hundred pounds, instantly turns into a stupid version of a euscherichia coli, are to the United States. Those of America. My first time in the land of the Pilgrim Fathers. Say I'm excited not get the idea. I wait a week in California for what it seems, question employees, and a holiday in that city which, for better or worse, I already know everything, being grew up with Woody Allen . But first things first.

Warning, this post can seriously harm your mental health.

For my parents, if they ever had to unfortunately come across this paper: everything you write is devoid of any foundation. There is a nano anti-Semite who under the threat of a vision Forcing a full year of men and women forced me to write nonsense against my will. Amen.

Welcome

On the way to San Jose. Me and my colleague D. At Hertz, having started with "We love football!" Commenting on all the flags on display with the words "Go Giants", a baseball team known , we trimmed a drunk browser that works on a deferred basis. The same with Christopher Columbus. We arrive at the hotel around seven in the evening, after having circumnavigated the Indies. Let your luggage in the room, go to dinner and we decided to avoid waking up in the middle of the journey of our life with staring eyes, fixed on the ceiling, to the evening. So ended a very long coffee, we sneak in the room next to experience a true celebration of American Halloween. Unfortunately we have no form, but seem to be two zombies so the problem does not arise. While sipping my hard coke and rum, Cat Woman and Britney Spears porno sit down on the sofa in front of me. Cat woman, with a couple of bumps that do not go unnoticed, decides that I am the man of her life and trying the first approach with a simple and still valid, "Hello." I drugged by travel and time zone, try a hint to greet the head and not say a word. I've seen pictures of benjamin ficus do best. Cat woman decides that they are no longer the man of her life and goes to purr in Batman. D looks at me astonished and even Robin. I understand the bitter disappointment and realize that if I want to win narcolepsy and have a minimum of interaction I need something stronger: a sniff of socks and a vodka red bull . So, a few drinks later, we moved in dandy bar, pulls a meeting later in the area, boring businessmen in suits and girls in heels 15 are polished. With us, two babes we dragged behind. The pupa dominant hormonal hit by storms, I suggests that would be interested to see my collection of Jesuits Euclidean . Hit by a sudden attack of Berkeley, hesitation and lose confidence in the existence of matter. She, seguage the school of Dr. Samuel Johnson, approaches me and whispers " only sex, but ", thus refuting my ideal universe.

In short, I had to sacrifice . The integration requires the acceptance of local traditions and customs and I like to integrate. The next day, mostly disintegrated, I was walking up and down the streets of San Francisco. Destroyed. The strategy to overcome the jet lag has been a failure, but at least my yawns have taken on a meaning totally unexpected . Well, I would say that is enough for today. The next post will be dedicated to all my two-week trip. It's three o'clock in the morning. I'll try to go to sleep. You probably will not succeed. And my yawning, tomorrow will be the usual yawn of a monotonous Monday as many others. I wish you a good week and a person that I want a full recovery very well, hoping that will soon be able to go home and see the postcard, this time I remembered to send. Hello.

How To Make A Horse Drawn Sleigh

Hello, I'm Tina, Tina and Nico burn of passion or life in Zurich, love and cows Hegel

Ah, my Ficino rumorossso "This is

the reception that I reserve , with that unmistakable accent so difficult to reproduce on paper and that always makes me sbellicare laughter - not least, a perfect Italian that makes me ashamed of my German slurred speech -, my neighbor house, the one who lives below me and gets nervous when I play the piano with headphones and, striking the keys, causing vibrations which propagate in the parquet, insinuate themselves into the ceiling below, and for the known law of the ball snow rolling down the snowy slope, coming to his ears so amplified can be exchanged for the whole rhythm section of a Sepultura concert. Smiled and I put in my mouth a huge sandwich that keeps me busy for a few minutes. The party, however, is other neighbors, the ones next door who, after a long period of 7 years, have decided to trasferirisi Argau , or something like that, happy little town of 600 souls in a half-hour by train from Zurich. He, E., Irish-bred, however, does not seem particularly excited to spend the rest of his life in a place where they know how many times during the day and shit consoles himself down a beer after the other - the fact that I I wanted to introduce myself with a couple of beers as a gesture of hospitality clearly shows, apart from the learned concepts learned from the valley with handkerchief Green my ignorance about the nature of Celtic descent : the balcony boxes are crammed on cases of beer. Would be too much even for Argau. K and I do not have anything to console us but we decide to keep him company in this relay alcohol and nicotine which lasts for several hours. We briefly summarize the events to avoid request to your attention, catalyzed by the status every two minutes on Facebook, a superhuman effort. Here's what happened during that time between eight o'clock and midnight:

1. drank a fair amount of beer


2. smoked a fair amount of cigarettes


3. Speaking for the first time with a pair of Swiss. Swiss real. I have not yet discovered the meaning of life, but now I definitely know what it is not


4. identified the prettiest girl, but other than talk and condition thanks to the points 1 and 2 which have the power to make your speech a sum ramshackle of nonsense, the thing was it


5. Frozen. Literally. No one had warned me that winter in Zurich began in mid-October. After four hours spent on the balcony in shirt and vest the doctor has established that there is rigor mortis. Someone at some point must have me hanging on the jacket

Around half past midnight we have to greet the crew because we have to navigate to other seas. In fact, ten minutes by tram, in that exotic place called Valman, we expect L to L & L. And another. Send the kids to bed.

The restaurant is already packed. We order two cuba libre. The weather here is to serve and appear out of nowhere, in succession:

1. L L & L


2. L L & L, the other


3. M, that of a sore foot, in the company of two girls . The first is the love of his life. Or so she wants to, but even young much of sciampista Schaffausen . Now you say assistant hairdresser, but the substance does not change: I imagine, there, below the falls, while the force of the water hits the canopy of the customer taking all that wonderful foam, hard fruit of his hard-working hands. Nature is cruel. The other, her friend, out of the brush of a painter bad, it's a bad picture of a girl. Some might call it a mussel, but I have too much respect for the mussels to venture to such bold comparisons. On the other hand is nice. If silent.
   
   

The number of glasses and toast to multiply wildly, while our minds, slowly, are blurred. Before the darkness to come down on my synapses and comes to the black night in which all cows are black - and I must say that quote was never more apt than this - I decide to perform in an impromptu baby walkers. Locate prey, reached out and try to grasp the pastern. She escapes into the outlet, disgusted. And in that moment something happens that I never imagined: the girl, under the influence of a bizarre maieutic completes two revolutions on itself . I'm watching the first case of electrolytic rotors, ie the process by which the electricity is contained in my body strikes the most harmonious guinea pigs which, when broken down into its constituent parts, produces a chemical reaction that culminates in a primeval walkers and self-referential. For a moment I feel like God before a stuttering Moses Switzerland: "I am the Lord your God who brought you out from the land of Valman, from the house of slaves. Thou shalt have no other Gods before me in vain and never say the word 'Absolutely'. " As soon as I recover from the state of omnipotence , I realize I'm drunk but I do not much case, normality makes me yawn. And now comes the turn and the desire to sail the 'ntenerisce the core. All except the two ladies to Zukufnt - of which there infischiami, having no role in this post - who prefer the look being (drunk) and flies to more conventional and boring Swiss shores. Before getting into the taxi, live entertainment with The L & L - him or the other? -Which, with a tablecloth stolen from nowhere, he launches into an unlikely imitation of Antonio Rezza. Once tributatogli the just applause, we do carry Helvetia Platz because the portfolios need to refuel. Fortunately I've always behind the mask. Playful interlude with music of Ravel Jeaux eau: I watering L L & L to the fountain and he who, a few minutes later, inspired by a muse, not particularly clever, he walks around carrying a basket full of plastic bottles ready for recycling. And I thought that in Switzerland you only recycle the money. Just a few meters to our Mecca of entertainment, but the surprises do not end there: L L & L, Bolton hit by lightning and without even waiting for the start, shooting and trying to beat the world record in the 100 meter enters the Kiosk - Swiss version of our tobacco - comes to the counter, he stops, turns and goes out walking with nonchalance. The person at the cash desk, petrified, shows an expression of astonishment mingled with terror will disappear from his face after a week. It is still there to ask the meaning of the mysterious apparition: a dissatisfied customer? A robber outgoing? A crowd protesting against the high price of cigarettes? And while the question haunting the mind of the seller, we are at the bar Zukunft engaged in a series of ceiling cuba libre. Meanwhile, someone he met with a group of South American fairly nice. One of them tries to get a drink offer from K, with gentle touch, sends to that country. Please, in the far right. L L & L, I do not know if either, takes the chance and, with ardor Italic, orders six shots of Jagermaister. I, meanwhile, vague aimlessly the track and I will stop only when I convince myself to be able to coordinate my movements with the beat of electronic music turned up full blast. Conviction, alas, that breaks immediately put to the test. The result is more or less what is observed on a human being hit from lightning. The hours go by, my senses are dulled. A girl approaches me.

"I go out to smoke a cigarette!"

I give my approval and also advise not to overdo it because it is known that smoking is unhealthy. Being now a infusion of alcohol, even I wonder why a girl that I've ever seen in my life feel the need to communicate its urgent need to suck nicotine. We see that requiring the name is no longer used. When he returns, he launches into a wild lap dance of which I am the post. Something inside me starts to come alive and are not neurons. I smile, vacant stare in the throes of unspeakable sexual fantasies. The reality takes over again: how could wish for a happy ending where everyone lives happily ever after at least a couple of hours, this will come true only in the best of all possible worlds , because this, unfortunately, I have rum and soul that my brain scan indicates the cessation of all sexual activities. Dejected, I walk away and, like lions when they sense that their time has come, I reach the furthest corners of the room and face the wall, drain the last bit of energy from deep in tribal dances as dark ritual significance. I do not have many memories than to an empty track, the lights on, silence. Something inside me tells me that it's time to go home.

The next day, still in bed in a darkened room, stare at the ceiling and I remember the missed opportunities of my life . What would have happened if that time I had acted differently. At the crossroads. And then, out of nowhere, get out here the voice of Enrico Ruggeri tells me "For me it's a no." Oh no, Henry, come on, you got the wrong program! Good week everyone!

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a nuisance

I like the silence. Like time, the silence, overwhelmed by the cacophony of daily life, has become a luxury, our cities have become a constant shouting, a hotbed of decibels that never stops. And if this were not enough already, we have also put those damn four corvacci fat like pigs - but how do they fly?! - Who with their funereal 'cra cra cra' infect the time of day when my vital signs akin to zero and need an absolute absence of noise that does nothing but excite my murderous instincts: the awakening. 'Cra cra cra!'. 'Cra cra cra!' 'Cra cra cra!'. Each time, his eyes still closed, double-locked, glued, move my hand in vain search of a gun to buckshot. A hand grenade. Anything that can serve to eliminate the contents of feathers from a cruel and indifferent world. Hours later, his senses, I am bitterly ashamed of thoughts so abominable. Let's leave the guns at the soldiers, the police and my friends who know me well know when the time allotted for the jokes is over. Better a good slingshot : moreover, my name is David and I assure you that those are really huge winged turnovers, more than Goliath. Therefore, I remains one place where you can enjoy the silence and rebuild my worn spirit. The dressing room of the gym . In addition, there is only the cemetery. Because here, in Zurich, the boudoir is a sacred temple . When you step in, you stand there, motionless, struck by the solemnity of the place. Calm. Quiet. Peace. All so far away from the atmosphere that reigns in Italy : people yelling, singing, jokes and jokes and speeches that deal with all always on the same subject so dear to the average Italian male. And I'm not talking about football. In Zurich, however, does not fly and if a fly flew, would certainly be fined for disturbing the peace. Here, people are dumb. He whispers to the maximum. You hear only the roar of the water of the shower, I remember maybe the Falls of Schaffhausen. I admit that it sometimes can disturb. I look around and search these bodies in shorts and gym shoes looking for an answer. The question, however, escapes me. When they are shaken by quakes of 'horror vacant , whistle garrulous, causing violent emotional storms kept at bay only by the proverbial Swiss education. Not that things will change particularly in the dressing room of the pool, to Oerlikon, the most important city, where competitions are held officially, where can meet the national swimmers, where all your dreams can become reality and then, come on, people, phone calls, the first 100 calls free manual on how to become an asshole sniffing Swiss raclette for three days. A Oerlikon train many racing teams and master . After the torture in water, when you see these hordes of fearless young men coming out with their tongues hanging out, breathing heavily and the typical purple color indicating an imminent explosion, you think, well, now the fun begins. Instead, nothing. Yes, there is a more sustained shouting and runs well laughter, but the decibel level is still laughable . Anything to do with what happens in Milan, on the rare occasions that I can train with my dear, loyal team. There are no words to describe the sensory hurricane strikes in the area between showers and lockers. I can only say that if any of you at that moment opened the door to peek, instantly lose confidence in mankind and withdrew to the more remote caves, in an eternal and funereal silence. And so we are back where we started, in this eternal recurrence of which, as Nietzsche would say, I broke the eschatological . I like the silence. But, do it at least a scream in the fucking dressing room, zombies! Good quiet week at all.

Where To Get Dunlop Volleys From Nz

The Unbearable Lightness of silence ' ether-enzo

We know thin line that separates life from death . Fell asleep while driving without headlights at night. Flirting with the girl quell'australopithecus giant that is expressed only in monosyllables, and shots of mace. Ring the bell on Sunday morning to bring the word of Jehovah. Our existence is hanging by a thread, and if the rope breaks, it smashed to the ground and after that we never pronounce words like Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, and Precious sternocledomastoideo . Knows something about a woman of Avion, a small town in northern France, a few days ago ... But first things first. Front the computer, I glance at the online version French 20 minuten . I want to be informed about the sexy new calendar of Swiss farmers and pathological cases of crime that plague the country. In fact the paper is two and a half lines long. However, my attention is swallowed up by a title that insinuates itself into my brain like a categorical imperative labile. I read the article. We are at Avion, which Wikipedia says is "a town of 18,298 inhabitants located in the French department of Pas de Calais in the Nord-Pas de Calais.". It is enough. It should not be very exciting to live Avion: some voila, a little 'and all of a parbleu Second chance to follow on TF1. And when the darkness falls on Avion, well, 'nothing happens . You go to bed. In fact, the drama of which I want to tell takes place all inside a bedroom. Pat and Mike. I picture him in his fifties, a hairy belly dedicated to that noble art which is the rubbing of the gonads. Use clichés but to act on the collective imagination is sadly commonplace. Let's say that he is an intellectual who, fully dressed with his silk pajamas if they're about ten minutes lying down comfortably to read Proust À la recherche du temps perdu. He has nearly finished a sentence. She next tries to sleep exhausted after a long day increased to study the art of the fugue by Bach. A couple like many others . Perhaps a night owl since 20 minuten reports that it was about 5 am, but the post is mine and I write what I want. Suddenly, marital peace is undermined by an event nothing short of terrible . He emits a flatulence particularly nauseating smell. In technical jargon, a Loffa : silent and deadly. All that remains is to escape. Now, I believe that those who produce gases that harm without at least the fact and give the audience a chance of survival should be criminally prosecuted . I will say that on a return flight from Istanbul, Last New Year, was submitted by the close areofagitico to this torture for the duration of the trip. Four hours of hallucinations visouditive. So far we understand that his wife, suffocated, we all do what we did: moves away from the place and opens the window mephitic , taking big gulps of air and decontaminating the area. The problem is that the husband does not take it well at all. Indeed, taken as an insult. Maybe it was the perfect Loffa. Having failed to eliminate the fatal consort with this technique, he decided to pursue the criminal intent strangling them directly. But not enough. In short, tragedy touched but avoided and, as Shakespeare wrote, all's well that ends well. The news got me back in mind, and do not ask me why, the guy the other night in the dressing room of the pool, flooded his armpits with deodorant of a tsunami. Nothing wrong with that, God forbid, I would just like to understand why he did before entering the water. Good week to all!

ps: for those who do not know, Avion, in French, means air . Rather guessed with the protagonist of this post. Post them, too, after all, air, ethereal, intangible, and they disappear when the first open window.

Bmx Bike Generator Online

now call him Lord (Part Two)

pick up where I had left. The great black hole Amber , part two. say that we continued to drink , disregarding the laws of human physiology that they would like, speaking of fluids in the body the amount of blood was higher than that of alcohol. Yet eyewitnesses swear they have seen us go back and forth to the counter holding glasses that certainly did not contain only coca cola. They say that we entertained amiable conversations with nice ladies . They say. If only I remembered something. They say that the entry of Zukuft we believe many nice ladies who were leaving home to get back on track, and dance with us. They say that these ladies were more than just pretty normal, and that after a while ', as we travel on the Shuttle toward unknown galaxies , has surrendered before the evidence and have taken the way out. They say that even there, the toasts are not missed. They say a lot of things, but the truth is that I really I can not remember anything. I do not know how and when it returned home. I just know that I came out of coma about two , when I woke up with my head was shattered, and after vegetated for over an hour, I had to use two for a stroll on Zurich to let me pass that feeling death that I stirred the mind and stomach. Finished? Not at all, realize that this is the last night of The Journal of L & L Italian in Zurich with permission from B. The appointment is at 11 to Talacker , a kind of radical chic bar where you can drink a liter jugs of beer and observed that local wildlife does not dance to the music put on by DJ magnificence on the sofas. Thanks to the U2 concert , which has blocked all through transformations in saunas on rails, I have to do it all the way on foot. I take the microphone, I thank the fans and curse for the remaining fifteen minutes. At Talacker is the group back together. K, tornatosene in Milan - and I have crossed in the afternoon, in desperate conditions, down the stairs and prayed God to grant him the strength to get to the station - is replaced by M, a friend of L of L & L, the other away in the Swiss town for reasons linked to the heart. Or something located below. L L & L immediately puts her hands on:

"Boys, up to half past midnight I'm going home"

General laughter.

"No, I mean"

three of us, in greek chorus: "Excuse me?"

"I have yet to finish the case"

"And then?"

"And then I have to put in place apartment, bureaucratic fix some things, save the world and calibrate my powers of super hero "

A little 'hazy. We annuiamo and five minutes after we sat next to the entrance with a jug one liter of beer in front of us . The lights are lowered, the performance starts. The jury Italy, thanks to modern technology - mobile phones - and not judge the pretty girls go by. 5. 7 +. 3, we have not. 8 / 9, general ovation. Do not even realize we are running out and the second jug. I nonetheless to the music, at least how can someone squirm slumped in a chair. I'm a hamster on his wheel. The other three are infected and appreciate movements of my seizures. Some young lady is carried away - our - warm smiles and sketches, while the group of sphinxes Swiss observing the scene and, as usual, if they remain motionless, mummified, trusting in their enigmatic charisma. Hopeless. Time to change air. Valman? It is Valman . L L & L has no objection and, although it has already come home now, still gives us the honor of his presence, sacrificing valuable time to fold pants and socks. But you know, life is not a playground and requires sacrifice. So, let's take the pulse of the situation. What key I and which belongs to a blonde in leather pants I do vertically or swirl is not bad. The maiden would like to know more about the swivel but is ephemeral and does not grant exceptions to anyone. Maybe later, we must first exhaust the stocks of the rotors with alcohol and applied surgical method until it begins to rotate the venue. We throw ourselves into the fray and open dancing. An aesthetically attractive Japan is divided between two young and fearless, infilatasi wearing a caving helmet, explores the oral cavity . Squinzi of Zurich and wink sculettano well, exacerbating the more prosaic side of me: if I could, I'd put on all fours and begin to howl at the moon . Not that she did not. When the tension becomes unbearable, you have to take a radical decision. Zukunft. L L & L, however, there is.

"I'm going home"

was a person like any other, we could take it in words, but with him the Lorenzo is around the corner. The corner where the taxi left us, all four, and where we set out to achieve our sanctuary. The entrance there they do sweat a bit, 'but we sweat so much alcohol and it makes us just that good. we are greeted at the rate of Balkan music that will accompany us throughout the night. Not impossible being dragged. Thirty minutes of dance that intensity - that I dance, ignoring the ground, halfway between the klezmer and ska - reduce me to a sponge soaked in sweat. Good thing you can do to counter rifornimeto of energy. Another thirty minutes and we are forced to take a break. We, to health, we care. We climb to the fumatoio Zukunft , where we ordered a few drinks. The waitress looks at us in amazement, because he can not understand where is the other seventy people with whom, of course, we should be leaving tonight. Mystery. It will discuss in the next episode of Voyager. The lights are lowered, the performance starts. The second. M, we had lost, again between us, but it is officially lost, and now incapable of consent , holding a glass of rum and coke only to give themselves airs. Destroyed, a whisper, "I hurt your feet." I feet hurt?! There a reason and we start again with the spread of the virus of baby walkers: drain the undrinkable and do the unthinkable. For the Swiss. Exhausted circus numbers, get back on track. When you step in, I am faced with a sinuous be long-haired blonde and I say to avoid misunderstandings, it is K, this time long ago in bed in Milan. The occasion is tasty, and the grab I can now rotate around its axis , causing a deviation of the orbit hormone exert a devastating effect. After having introduced the L & L, that reserve the same shock therapy, the empathic girl, possessed by evil spirits, kidnaps me for an hour, while giving me proof of the existence of a divine justice and my transformation oject in man in the sense that, once stufatasi the situation, or I-throws - as Heidegger would say, or cast-in the world - and leaves, leaving me with a sense of unfinished struggling to vanish. But there's more, the best is yet to Come. The evil mind of L & L, always in turmoil despite the wait to put on underwear and socks in a suitcase, he hatches a plot of his own. Armed with his inseparable drink, shoot as Bolt, passes under a bar that serves only as a graveyard of empty glasses, and then flows of angel flying over the banquettes . The other L L & L takes up the challenge but it's better : once passed under the counter, dipping into the perfect flight of an angel and violently throws the glass in his hands, the glass that goes crashing against the wall, producing the classic effect Pollock. There is no two without three, however, did not say at random. Snort from his nostrils and I'm ready all'incornata final aga David! take a run and not even shed a single drop of my inseparable cuba libre, step under the bar, point and left the girl sitting alone who is innocently sipping your cocktail and

... "Cheers!" I turn

and I am willing to even go back as if nothing had happened if the girl does not start a conversation. Being very pretty, I decided that after all it's worth getting to know and chat with the babe. After about a minute my ego completely fills the room. After two minutes, is now reduced from friends while they are there I speak, I come away from the two weight L L & L that, taking the arm from side to side, me carrying on the opposite side of the room screaming warriors accompanying herself while she stares at us shocked and I move the legs dangling. There are two big bastards, but they made me laugh and so lose them. After something like that, nothing is as it was before, like when you switch suddenly from adolescence to adulthood. Like when you go from diapers to the toilet pot and then regresses back to the diaper. Like when you stay glued to the TV to look good on Sunday. In short, it's time to go home. Kisses, hugs and another day is about to begin. Good night.

The next day takes me two hours of cycling to recover. Lost in some village of the living dead, limped off with his tongue. And I think. I think the Zukunft, in the sense of the future. My. And life. So I understand. Life is like a bicycle. No matter what pedals and if the road is uphill or downhill. No, what matters is how many fucking cuba libre you drank the night before, and always one too many , understand? I do not, so I do not wish you a good week, hello!

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Money never "slip"




Ronse in the ears over ten thousand meters, I've got scempre although I think it is more a 'mpresscìone cagotto due to this when sciàlgo up to a aèrioplano reazziòne, so I can not sleep a gneanche little, I fill the stomach of cows, peanuts, chocolates, candies pending aeronautical meal.

The flight takes five hours and a half and have the opposite sergione puffing like a locomotive:

- CIA hunger and

- did not understand a blessed chip only for the film and giving

- the hostess Cianna ass and tits small and low

- which for once paying customers, after all the travel economy, we want to give in as the third leg of Ariva and when Othello asks a sciùbito covered with beautiful breasts but not the fifth in the ski translates as Shah in English and we have to ask myself, and

- that - "Ostia! scion I forgot to tell us the mechanism to spin the reels that you sconsumano all gone down one side!"

... insciòmma a whining continues.

Luckily we ate well, and laments, as if by magic, is gone.

When the A-380, Super Jumbo tacked above the Emirates, the Dubai International Airport and landed (without Scioli rite dick that just gets in Italy: the applause), he woke up and the Sergione , wiping his bib left side, slammed his eyes like Bambi, it was scratched his balls as if he had the platter and began: - "Socci, I have to go to hell!" -

Hurrah.

The impact with the outside temperature plane is like a punch from Tyson in the diaphragm and throw down a glass of muriatic acid.

50 degrees.

I mean, 50 ° dry eh?

do not sweat, dries.

After 40 minutes, in the Guest Room appears to be a chauffeur in a prominent blue suit by Armani with a gold brooch on the lapel of the Company which comes to us, and voice in a discreet and almost Shakespearean English - " welcome mr. dazwo, welcome mr. Sergione, I am Rachid, it's a pleasure receive you in Our Country "- the Sergione looks at me, frowns and says, -" Sa vol quests that? "- (What does this?).

go! The first picture of shit in the Emirates we did it.

will now be a breeze.

The van's Financial Bank welcomes us in luxury, all black, tinted windows, piped music, a scent is light, fresh as deodorants for those tropical flowers, we do not have to pack the most affected, we find that Rachid is not the driver but a kind of handyman secretary at our disposal, and I Sergione the swarm we watched in silence as many times expressions like: - "Shit did you see that stuff?" with his mouth tightened and his eyes wide open.

In fact, come on, do not you think, after that we headed to the hotel Hilton Dubai Creek was a sciùssceguirsi grattacielimacchinonivialonipalmatiborsedipelle to no end, while Rachid tells us about the program of our stay on earth Saudi gives us a mobile phone (new) with which we could call it at will and as he explained all this, Sergione gazed at it, girandoselo in his hands, the Financial Iphone4 with the logo on the dial and looking for hidden Rachid that he was addressing to me, once again, mimed the words: - "but fuck, have you seen that stuff?"

was traumatic arrival at the hotel, we went from 25 ° of the machine, very pleasant, 20 ° to the hotel.

Look, I'm not joking.

These here scion electrocuted, tea come from the outside and enter it in the freezer, yes, beautiful, beautiful throughout, luxury, swimming pool, buffet, what the fuck you want but give it ostìassa! a cold lady.

When we have given electronic keys for the rooms I could not wait to take a shower, but already I knew what awaited me: the evening with Sergione wanted to leave the stamp there as well.

... But that's another story.

5 Month Old Baby Cough And Breathing Heavy

Rage Sciàuditta

Sciàlamalleiucùm men and women, to the merciful

What to watch sciù you and allow you, sooner or later go to Dubai.

say that we turn the money in the pipes as the shit is an understatement. In two

weeks I have seen spend, earn, invest, have more money in ten lives Briatore.

cock, but how much money Cianna sti here??

A guide soon.

... There was also the Sergione eh?

Couple Love Making Romantic

now call it Lord-enzo (Part One)

L L & L goes . Abandon us. Destination London. No more chocolate, grated potatoes and cuckoo clocks, waiting for the fish and chips, porridge and Big Ben. So we must celebrate , and that is what we do. In our way. Friday night we home of L & L L the other. At dinner, to begin with. The quartet is full: L & L L L L & L, K and I. Giving us a hand, M and E, a cute pair of Merano, and H, crazy German that fits the climate vaguely demented group. The kitchen is L-L & L is, as always, a boon for the palate and pasta overflowing from the pot there is no longer even a memory. As a side dish, five bottles of wine they are emptied to the last drop. Eat, drink and ride. Meanwhile, the bottle of rum and vodka waiting patiently. Not for long. The alcohol level begins to rise, dramatically. M and E, drank energy drink, thank you, say goodbye and leave, having already planned everything in detail. We continue in marathon alcoholic until the finishing line of empty bottles that always bring profound sadness. Tears. Then someone pulls out the red box infernal sound effects generator. From there begins the delusion that the ending ... or maybe he never had an epilogue? In short, while L & L L, or maybe K, hit the button that plays the sound of a spring - BOING! BOING! BOING! - L L & L, the other part with a series of jumps by record type astronaut on the moon coming soon imitated by the group. We jump on the floor, on couches, on the bed. Someone jumps dinner, but I do not know who he is. The nice tenant downstairs, the one that swept much of the half pulled the ceiling in a Swiss reproduction of Morse code, which means roughly I have broken my balls is in shock and was taken away today firefighters who have found it again with the broom in hand, catatonic and drooling. Partly satisfied benefit from kangaroo, L L & L, the harmonic sound of the spring begins to blow up pictures, mirrors, vases Ming Ming in a meat bones a bit 'musty, smelly, bombs and firecrackers that I quickly grabbed the fly with prodigious technique, drunk Catcher in the Rye. We laugh have fun, even if the landlord down copious cold sweat. Equipped with even the minimum mastery of neuronal we sense that this is the case of leave the apartment before creating a small apartment building in Beirut. All Amber to dance! All except H, which is fun but as you can have fun when you go to the zoo to see the howler monkeys. This escapes me, but I wanted to put his howler monkeys because they make me laugh. Ah ah ah! Please, will make available its services to taxi driver. Before mounting in the car, the grand finale of the spring, which sees The L & L Fosbury jump with perfect technique and sink into a hedge, then immediately route the other L L & L and myself. Some arm hanging inert, otherwise we are still alive. The trip to the disco is a paroxysm of alcohol : chants, cries, barks, soft jumps. H is having fun and much, but as you can have fun when your plane is plummeting and then, miraculously, the pilot manages to land it. Once is enough and you remember forever. Amber arrived in front, I hear stuff like 'saltiamole on the hood', which is the first page of the manual 'The hundred ways to go immediately to the disco and jump the queue'. Never mind, even if the idea had its charm. Perverse. We try to give us an attitude and catapult us to the entrance. The bouncer looks at us and I do not know if terrified by the look of the four psychotic or simply because it sniffs out big business at the bar, we are part. Immediately. Not even a second of waiting . Incredible, no human had ever happened, even when we arrived with brandy in hand, declaiming, in a perfect English accent from Oxford, the complete works of Shakespeare. Or maybe just 'Can we enter?' I do not remember. Before you change your mind, we accept the kind invitation and we sneak into the club. From that moment on ... You know the film Hangover (Hangover)? It is the story of four friends - coincidentally - who decide to celebrate the bachelor party of one of them in Las Vegas. If you have not already seen, do it. What has happened to me is very similar, apart from the tiger in the bathroom and the Chinese in the trunk of the car, but only because I have a car. Amnesia total. The big black hole. The last thing I remember is the entrance fee, 25 francs without consummation, thieves! And a sandwich, in the middle of the night, desperate to regain consciousness. The human. Now, crossing the testimonies, I have tried to fill that period of time consigned to oblivion, and that forces me to switch from real to you. Grand master of ceremonies, the conditional. We were saying, it seems that, after leaving their jackets in the wardrobe ... but I'll tell the next episode, because there is still a Saturday that deserves to be told . As usual, good week!

ps: we are degenerating. Help!

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Uncle are born, not made that

Three weeks of vacation. Many or few, a matter of points view. On my return I brought back a suitcase full of yawns . Sleeping was certainly not the most practiced activities. Three weeks of vacation. My notebook is full of notes, to tell stories and facts that perhaps it is better not to be advertised too. In front of the white sheet, a mixture of anxiety and pseudo-literary creative euphoria, I wonder where to start, what memories into words. I do not have to wait long. Wednesday, August 18 . A lifetime ago, but I think many more - will be the holiday and summer air we breathe throughout the year in Zurich. Ibiza, carefully chosen destination with the intention to relax after twelve days of crazy parties in Tel Aviv. Ibiza town, a destination chosen carefully with the intention to put something in the stomach and then jump on the track, on your hands until eight o'clock in the morning. For those who do not know or had recently done with a front Frecciarossa, temporarily losing the use of the left hemisphere of the brain, Ibiza and Zurich are not exactly similar . In Ibiza you speak English - or Catalan - there is the sea and times are typical Mediterranean dinner that is nothing before eleven and a half. In Zurich, however, should be something that speaks a language, even though, in my humble opinion, looks more like a series of guttural spitting, the sea seems there is not and times are typical of Swiss German, that is, to bed without dinner after nine and a half, even if you did a good boy all week. In fact, here we sit down to half past midnight while we order in a typical French restaurant in the wine list has only the English. Globalization. You ask, here we are sitting who? As you know, however, the names of friends, in my post, do not reveal anything, not as a matter of privacy, but simply because they know a person who writes stuff like that is already cause for shame, better not continue - that is evil - with the media pillory. You just know that the company is one of the best and most patients , since tolerance to a week of my jokes continue. Poor, I love you. About two, gorged, we raise our real asses and decide to go drink a crap, what we do without too much effort, not without first having passed through the city's gay area , full of nice people dressed up as Martians latex who like to take the ass whipping of bold young hopefuls. The poop still aches. Finished drinking and chatting, we are ready for the real purpose of our pilgrimage night: find tickets for Amnesia , a temple dedicated to the dance - Or rather, random movements induced by abuse of doping that only occasionally for special astral conjunctions, reflect the name they are called - with thousands of followers. The event is called La Troya - no reference to the respective industry professionals - and is internationally known because at six in the main hall, who wants to does not wash for weeks and can take advantage of the excellent service foam shot in Chile by a couple of guns. In short, intellectual stuff. So, for us not miss our morning dose of Badedas, we begin to search for the Holy Grail of clubbers. What we find, by switching between the various local pre tunz tunz the town. Indeed, noting the typical attitude of the explorer, I am approached by a guy from Lombard accent.

Young: "Italian?"
Me: "Yes"
G: "Oh, where?" I
: Milan "
G:" Ah, Milan, tantarrobba! "

is a topos. I also find in the dictionary, " Milan, definition: tantarrobba . Until there is.

G: "I am in Cinisello". What they do not go to Milan? "No, I Milan? Ever seen. I do not have the stamp to enter. " On the other hand, is always a problem. "Oh, no, I wanted to, but I stamp the passport has expired."
Me: "We are looking for bilgietti Amnesia"

The future Nobel prize - for the way it gives tantarrobba - beckons us to follow him down the stairs next to the room and screams like a fishmonger in the stout, bearded guy sitting behind a counter:

" Oh, uncle, I'm sending down five uncles, friends are, from tickets for Amnesia "

I've thought for a moment and came to the conclusion that it is nice to be uncles. The ziitudine is an important property and makes us all brothers. Being uncles makes us brothers even if doing so makes us brothers, not by force of his uncles. For example, you said that your uncle is an uncle. Maybe, instead, your cousin is. And uncles like Milan because there tantarrobba. Bella uncle. And so, we five uncles, we went, we made the purchase, we drained five shot by his uncle offered but only because we are uncles, we reached the car, we started off in the direction of Amnesia, we found the parking lot of uncles we entered and left us to go through the entrance to the private room because his uncle had seen that we were uncles and when he realized that we were coming from London must surely have thought "tantarrobba. And inside, so that there was, of stuff. Tanta. Dancing with micro bikini sculettando left and right. I tried to understand, to no avail, if they were aunts. Maybe not. Then, when people on the track has finished washing, we headed to the other side of the private. From there he dominated a completely different track. Full of great men and big inflated with compressed air and half naked. Perhaps they were uncles. When I saw them, however stuck with all the languages \u200b\u200bthat swirled wildly, I realized that there was little of his uncle, aunt's much more. At seven and a quarter goes out the music and the lights are on. As if to say, go home, that is better.

Awakening, six hours later, has something traumatic. I crawl to the bathroom, piss, and I look in the mirror, his face gaunt, dark circles, matted hair and looked very dull. Profoundly stupid. At my age my father had two degrees in his pocket ee two children at home, I have just one big headache after drunk. Then, however, still looking, it started to change something inside of me. I began to understand. And in the end, like a bolt of lightning rips the sky, the light has come: "Shit," I said to myself " but how can I be so uncle? ! ". Good week, uncles, and tantarrobba!

ps: a special greeting to the tenants of Ibiza, it was a long time that I did not laugh so much. By the time I went back to follow Italian politics ...

Are Baked Fries Bad For You

Year is, the year that goes

on the train again, back to Zurich. It will be on Sunday, but today I feel particularly sad. And I miss Milan. More than usual. I know there are a thousand reasons to hate her, maybe more, but this thing barely pump blood in my body cares. In a few days, when my trusty spear bearing the alcoholic rum and cola , descend on the battlefield in single combat ready, think about something else. Today, however, so. Last Friday I turned 34 years . There will be no more forever, but I have friends who know more than twenty years ago and this impression. At least a bit '. And stiff neck that I had as a birthday gift was not a breath of optimism. So what has happened this year? In part, you know, if I've been following the madness of Monday: business trips, booze epic, many miles in the pool, and then never called popular girls, girls call and I never received a reply, new friends, books I made dream, angry, thinking, music played, played and thought, good intentions remained closed in the tray; money unnecessarily squandered, stupidly, laughter, tears, joys, disappointments, pain and fleeting happiness that still accompany me. The list is quite long, but I will not bore you too much. Someone is gone . It is said that such is life, but in this there is nothing I find comforting. It is said that the time is the remedy, but I will consider it the most vicious serial killer ever . The time will bury us all, and instead of being so much to understand how and why the judge let us do so by an international tribunal. No mitigating circumstances. And me? I've changed? Difficult to answer. Probably yes, but I do not know what does. More pessimistic , it can be. I lost faith in many things and sometimes it seems to me that nothing of what we live, remain, but slipping away, like when you take the sand grains in the hand and begin to leave, one by one, then all together, until it is nothing. For the rest, I feel the usual idiot ever . Just today, just before leaving home, I called my grandmother. "So, when you find yourself a girlfriend?". Yeah, when? The bride is not a requirement. Growing up, then, I have become much more selective. Sometimes I think it will be easier to achieve peace in the Middle East. Sure, sometimes I feel lonely and would love to have someone at home speak. I think I'll buy a parrot , at least not suffer from the syndrome of the feet hibernated. And then? And then, tomorrow is another day, another day it will end and tomorrow will be another and so on. Meanwhile, I continue to daydream and wonder what I'll still be great. Yeah, but when you grow up? Maybe when I stop to ask that question, although it is more likely that day will not be great, but just an old man inside a coffin. Strange, for someone who was once thought to be immortal, but then discovered that the immortal in this world, there is only Silvio . All in all, despite my pessimism cosmic love life, and I'd rather be alive than dead although I admit that, in death, you have some advantages, how to stop paying taxes and not be harassed by the programs of the De Filippi. I, for one, I love breakfast and this seems to be dead is much more complicated. I know it's stupid, but in the morning when I wake up, I'm happy because I know that in ten minutes I'll sit in front of a nice cup of milk and cornflakes, biscuits, jam and delicious butter cookies with Belgian chocolate. And in that moment I'm happy. So what is happiness? Where is the meaning of life? I do not know, maybe a biscuit with butter and chocolate chips or, in the words the philosopher Bertrand Russell, in fact to go twice daily to the body, regularly. I never expected to be so happy! So, let's enjoy our finitude and let's enjoy again and again. Meanwhile, you enjoy the fact that this post has come to an end. I'm sorry to have you disappointed you expected something more pleasant. Be ', today I did it, but I promise you that next Monday I will try again to snatch a few smiles. I leave you with a very beautiful poem an author I particularly like that. The author is my father and the poem is written on the occasion of my birthday as now, by custom, a lifetime ago. Good week all!



The Wind The wind blows away the month of August
; ends soon
trouble with small horns on a Monday
half-toned for New Year

Echoes September with mild temperate
ways of the wind
desert that extends to the ancestors
the sharp horns of a dilemma between being open and appear

: sphinx
swirling, the cool climate phenomenal


not restricted to pure essential idea. Only
alphabet Mem Alef and Tav compresses
between the breath expresses.

אמת Emet