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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.

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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.

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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.