The demon possessed and 
When I L L & L meet me - Lord enzo--, I already know what awaits me. I know because it's Friday night. I know because I'm in London
. I know because one of the guests at the dinner of L & L is Mr. X, accessible anywhere, anytime at +666. The London flat L-L & L is very similar to the previous Zurich, with the exception of the ancestral
graffiti on the wall of the bedroom that one of the main attractions in Switzerland. Books stacked next to the couch are a sign of a recent move. At the dinner table are expected, in addition to the landlord, the blond Satan and myself, that V, a lawyer with a history back to ski in St. Moritz, Milan and a girl, to please everyone, one of Rome.
The first to appear punctually at eight something, it's V, who moved to Milan, Florence, moved to St. Moritz, sent to New York and received bundled in London. Let me introduce myself. He looks at me e. ..
"We already know?". The question puts me in fear. In fact,
his face I is not new . Seguage
of the Socratic method Socratic , brachilogico just enough, in a few minutes I reach the Carràmba Carrà perfect with lots of squawking. Yes, we know. Yes, the world is small. And yes, there are no more between seasons, but if they had been so important, Vivaldi would have written on another series of concerts. Meanwhile, the telephone rings. I hear the cry of the damned souls. The door opens and here it is: in his long cashmere coat human
the modern version of Beelzebub . Devoid of all sense of shame, as always, shows us a message he received shortly before her by a mysterious "is still valid for the invitation to go out for a drink?". We are talking about a call two weeks earlier. His answer was immediate: "Hello, I do not remember you, but I'm sure that if I came to know you have to be necessarily a very good girl." And with the expression of what has done it, goes out to smoke on the balcony and begins to message a
escort. Ah, love! Meanwhile, L L & L begins to prepare dinner. It begins with the bruschetta with avocado. Perhaps the cheese, but I do not remember esttamente. Open a bottle of red. In a toast to another, have made the 10 a quarter, but the two girls - late in a quarter of an hour - no news. Tick \u200b\u200btock, tick tock, the clock running, but no news of the two girls. We sit at the table and entice our mouth with delicious buffalo mozzarella, tomatoes and excellent Portuguese wine. Tick \u200b\u200btock, tick tock, the clock running, but the
two girls no news, and since they are ten and half past, to great acclaim decide to throw the pasta. And the call comes. Apologies to unclear circumstances. In short, they are not. Too bad, because Mr. X had in mind in the middle of dinner, to get entangled in the leg of one of the two - the Milan, a girl who, as I was told, in excess of humility, and that's why sometimes happen to mention in passing that she holds a pair of master. A couple. We do not know what does. But a couple-and strusciarvisi over like a dog in the presence of pillows. I admit,
is a madman, but it's really hilarious . If your moral canons are those of the Marquis De Sade. When you end the practice of the two hick, we are ready to attack the tray filled with steaming pasta.
Ciarla carefree, lightheartedness that you would like to last forever. Immortality is not our greatest illusion? Oh, how beautiful youth who escapes, however, there is no certainty about the future. So, have fun, and even so - Samuel Butler said that the world rather than to be preserved, is meant to be enjoyed. And what greater Goduria there at the end of the meal, after having drained a bottle of wine apiece, to fill our glasses with 's excellent
sprayer with a little vodka' of redbull? Carefree, young, carefree. This carefree tipsy go out there and sneak into the first taxi that we stop.
A friend of mine sent me a message . It is with some people in a club in Soho and asked me to join her. Seee ... I reply that I'm going Nozomi - Japanese restaurant and bar with the snobbish in Knightsbridge, frequented by footballers and the like and minds of Japanese who has perhaps only a few cars parked in the area -. If you like, find me there. He says he comes. No time to cross the threshold of local and
I find myself with a cuba libre in his hands, as Mr. X, that there is at home, start an endless series of salaams - Inter alia by a beautiful girl who we reached out and placed in the carpus kissing mode, giving us an instant snobbery from anaphylactic shock - and the number dell'aggrovigliamento try and rub the legs of anyone wandering about. We laugh a lot, until you paste it to our own legs. Then we launch the attack in a column on which toyed with a certain transport. Meanwhile
a black two-meter with the face of P Diddy but the expression even more stupid - and there will -, big fan of Chelsea, I break the balls on the fourth gold for Milan as my concentration that time is all focused on a couple of cups of samples to a young lady a little further on displays with pride. I do not know how, but the output is accompanied by a prize pulitzer barking at the door. The biggest mystery is how I can return five minutes later but you know, for some people, blacks and yellows, are all equal. The brute must have thought that this was certainly another person. The problem is that Jimmy, renamed it to us for reasons totally unknown and will be analyzed as soon as possible during an episode of Voyager, we will not do more to lift the feet. And after half an hour that no one addressed over the word, something you should be able to guess at Unless your brain has not been recently inserted by mistake inside a microwave oven and then blended with a couple of bananas. Still undecided what to do, we go out to fumarci a cigarette. Even Jimmy, even if does not smoke. Among other nicotine aspiration
we know Anastasia, Russian banker with the features of a model that sheds tears over his tragic love life of rich bored on Friday evening: she would like to go dancing, but her friends seem to be willing to go home. Some people are of inhuman cruelty. We, the guys with a heart of gold and noble intentions, we do a proposal that will not rifutare. She thinks about it and while his brain is squirming on the what to do,
the load weight in the first taxi . Jimmy hospitality but also look for us, who are already in five, we make hello hello with the hand. Poor Jimmy stays there, motionless, aware that will have to spend all night in the company of his embarrassing speech. Meanwhile, my friend notice the sudden change in plans. We get to bring
Maddox, pussy London nightclub in the heart of Mayfair. When he came, we are greeted by a black wiry - a close friend of Mr X even though he hits him with a taser whenever the
boyfriend pulls out a meter of lingual mucosa trying lemonade heavy - about as Platinette, but in English. We enter and one of us does not pay: guess who? No, it's Russian. Filed jackets, clear blisters and are ready to throw in track. A quick look and I realize to be finished in
mansion Hugh Hefner . Or so it seems, so much so that my testosterone explodes and they find some residues at the bar. I beat my chest like a gorilla, grunts like a boar in heat and say the sentences are meaningless to me bunnies running around. Right at that moment, I get a message. My friend. Out. Should I let her. Mr. X speaks Platinero. Platinero looks at me and makes some appreciation.
"Do you smoke?"
"Yes"
"Sin".
Well ... In the end, even if my breath every fantasy castrates the nicotinic caving on me, decided to meet me. Without double meanings. He opens the door e. .. my friend is there. Smiles.
and alone! And I already knew. I take it by the hand and more or less as would a medium sized primate, the drag in the room directly below the counter and without going through the street. Start
series ceiling vodka red bull. She, with her blouse half open, I turn around sensually making me regress to the state of sperm. To try to recover and reach at least the adolescent phase, I sow my tracks and The reach of L & L and V, stranded near the busty Slavic, who immediately grabbed and I regularly swirl
, dull the senses. Some traditions should be respected. Always. After the rotation, I'm going back to the bar. Fatigue is a very short, hell! And while I order, I see to my left, above the cube,
my friend that shakes like a possessed and behind her, clinging like an octopus, Mr. X. That boy can not leave him alone even for a second. Armed with my vodka redbull makes me invincible I appropinquo the scene of the crime and restore
with ignorance hierarchical orders of the dominant alpha male. Affected by hormonal anxiety attack, I promises the nightmare of perfume, treacherous hopes of millions of manly. Exorcise the fear of speaking with L & L, but it seems to side with the basic thesis. The theory, pace Popper, is falsified a few minutes later when my friend decided to stick his face to mine, with all that this entails. Needless to tell you is the following, you definitely have a good imagination.
The next day is a race not to miss the plane : I come home to The L & L, who had already made a few calls to Scotland Yard, I throw you need to throw in the suitcase, I greet I take a taxi, arriving at the station, I rush to make the ticket, I put sull'Heathrow Express one minute before the departure, arrival at the airport, I headed rocket at check in, pass all the checks, I press on toward the terminal e. .. the plane is late. The plane of the Swiss?! There are more Swiss than once, dammit! At ten o'clock in the evening are home. You think it's all over but instead get a message. Mr. X. The devil is in Zurich. We go out? You see, just as the saying goes, to err human, to persevere is diabolical and
do two nights with Mr. X is prohibited by the Geneva International Convention . Good week to all!
"The Lord the Lord called the man (Adam) and said Where are you? ". This passage from Genesis for centuries did turn white beards of biblical exegetes: Adam thought really to escape the Big Brother? Or God did not know Yahoo! Answers, the service provided by the company in Silicon Valley and allows you to find an answer to the big questions of life ? The first owner appears to have been Hamlet, which, with its demand has given rise to a mileage thread that has not been exhausted. If you want to know that figure comes out in uniting all the Bruno Vespa , if the thirty-Trent who came trotting in Trento were really thirty or because the left never goes to the streets to demonstrate against the genocide of bacteria newspaper ... be ', then what are you waiting? 
