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E mo' spiegalo a C.

Negli anni passati con C. mi sono resa conto di una cosa piuttosto imbarazzante: nove volte su dieci, quando mi tocca spiegargli come funzionano le cose in Italia, quelle che erano pacifiche certezze si sgretolano alla velocità di un incredulo "You must be kidding me".
Neanche un inglese tutto sommato decente riesce a salvarmi da questa slavina: non è che non riesco a spiegargliele (a un certo punto lo interrogo per vedere se sta seguendo), è che proprio certe idiosincrasie, specialmente se raccontate in un'altra lingua, si manifestano in tutta la loro abbacinante nudità.

E no, non sto parlando delle consuetudini al volante o dei phenomena folklore festivals dogmatic upgraded to state : I speak mainly of things in which I believed for years.
I must say that initially gave me the sense of destabilization a bit 'dizzy. Lately however I'm really into. I find the phase "Explain to C." is the best crash test to assess the tightness of an opinion. Now that the devastating effect of the first attempts that I know has gone to optimize the results I get trained. That is, before launching a mad dash with my ideuzza, only to realize that I'm tripping through the air like Wile E. Coyote beyond the edge of the precipice, trying to pre-test it myself. In short, bungee jumping would not be as fun if you had not the almost total certainty that the rope will hold.

is why last night's crash test does not find me unprepared. I mean, I did a little 'the dumb, but just not to betray the spirit of the moment.

- Ciccio, today I was reading something that Max wrote on his blog ...
- What?
- The fact that he thinks the unions are the only hope for workers in Italy.
- but want the union ?
- NOOOOOOOOOO! That stuff is Mafia! Nothing more than a guild! Italian trade unions have a proud tradition of mutual aid societies, it is they who have elevated the strike by means of claiming rights and, well, I'm not telling what they have done in the past, but if the workers in the factories do not die like flies, it was thanks to them!
- Capito ... and now they do?
- Well, basically they discuss with the unions of employers, and together they decide how much workers must earn. And every few years have pain, because the salaries are adequate and clearly the employers do not want to give.
- Oh my God, making it seem that being part of a trade union is a scam.
- Why?
- Well, because if you're writing them decide how much you earn!
- Er, Ciccio, I think I have explained ... They decide to all workers. That is, in theory no, but in practice yes.
- WHAT? And why??
- Beh, perché così tutti guadagnano almeno un minimo...
- Questa è una cosa giusta... ma quindi decidono solo i minimi?
- Uhm, no, veramente di fatto decidono anche i massimi, visto che ci sono anche livelli che variano con l'anzianità e a ogni livello ci sono degli scatti che poi vengono assorbiti nel... come cazzo si tradurrà superminimo--
- Scusa?
- Niente, lassa sta'...
- Ma poi, scusa, ogni volta che nasce una nuova professione questi devono creare il sindacato apposta e discutere di retribuzioni?
- No, di solito per far prima ti piazzano in un sindacato che già c'era...
- E quindi tu che lavori nell'IT?
- ... metalmeccanica...
- COSA?
- Nothing is loose '...
- But then those who vote?
- Well, I guess there are no internal elections ...
- But then they decide for all ...
- Eh ...
- But still, they conclude that only the salaries?
- No! They are still struggles and demands!
- Type?
- Type last year ... have virtually stopped since the Prodi government had to make implementing the decree that led to the minimum pension from 57 to 60 years for those who stop working in 2008.
- Sorry, but you did not say you're not Italian you could not retire before 65? And you have fewer rights to those who retire in 2008?
- Nothing is loose '... However you can contact them if you have problems at work.
- Oh yeah, I thought ...
- only that the union is only found in larger companies.
- In what sense?
- In the sense that only big companies have trade union representatives.
- So who's in the union also works in the company? But that is not subject to pressure?
- No is protected because it can not be fired -
- I meant pressure to "positive."
- Ah ... hmmm ...
- Okay, okay. And those in medium-sized companies and / or small?
- Um, they can go to the offices of trade unions and cross your fingers.
- Hm ...
- But sometimes it works - put the press: the causes of the work always win.
- But you said that journalists Italians are virtually a caste?
- Nothing is loose '...
- Okay, as usual it seems to me something very Italian.
- What?
- The fact that the work is seen as a curse from which a benevolent father / boss must save you, because you are no matter is too stupid to do it. Basically they do not recognize a minimum of autonomy in your ability to negotiate your time. And do not give opportunities to improve or change direction. We believe that all Italians I know complain about the work they do: enter the system and virtually forgotten about hamster type in the location required. And what's more, if you are outside the set course of trade unions have not even a law.
- Mh.
- And then Max says that they saved the Italian workers?
- Yeah.
- How?
- Ciccio, I do not know ... sometimes I get the impression that we left veterans suffer from the Stockholm syndrome . Hostages of mad sadists, but without the courage to send them to fuck off because we have no more idea of \u200b\u200bhow life can be without them.
- And now why are you smiling?
- No, I thought to crash test. They are useful, no?
- Eh?
- Nothing ciccio, woe is' ... 'Night! * Click *



(only you can send me shit for this post ... but the only relief the emotional reaction for a month, then it's, eh?)

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Piove, panettiere ladro

Not that I wanted us to wake up at 2 am to make me appreciate the efforts of those working in a bakery, but surely those few alarms have helped me to understand how sacrifice (and the cost of living) is behind a hundred kilograms of bread. And I do not speak superlatives of bread, but an honest bread.

So if you have the old adage "it costs more bread cookies" made me fall balls (in that way that only the slow but inexorable beppegrillate have the balls to make you fall), in your opinion, what do I do now read the Christmas version of the meme ?

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Abbronzature, illuminazioni e il fantasma del compagno Togliatti

I know that there is nothing more annoying to announce the return to oblivion and then not come back, but tonight I finally clear visionary strategy PresConsMin Italic (the "otherwise high," for instance).

He has not spoken a line from Bagaglino . He made a choice of field.
no coincidence that in Russia. Not by chance in conversation with the marionet President Medvedev.

He did not like him. He has insulted the complacency of those who know they are well covered. Our favorite has
nano Nasato the unstable geopolitical balance, and shifted the axis.
We are not friends of Merica.
Now we are friends of Russia.

We skipped the curtain iron.
stuff that would not even have dreamed of Togliatti.
began pulling out of the knit, this winter will be a lot.

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Giusto per chiudere il cerchio

I did not follow the very tail of the campaign, so I knew it. I have spent the last few days with family and friends angry Italians who under his breath repeated the usual hackneyed suspension on race and racism of the "Americans."
Seriously, that one of the G8 nations in which large cities not seen black people in beautiful clothes and leather briefcases, ago really laugh. Italian, very good at not doing shit, because it looks: the others are bad.

For the record, I predicted an Obama victory with 333 votes, evidently in a resurgence of pessimism flag. Now back into oblivion, but I wanted so much to reiterate:

I told .

UPDATE: The female viewers Paola TG2 to complain because "this time it really is too much" with the media coverage given to U.S. elections. Pora fat, all-time stolen from Meredith and Garlasco, so that those that deserve attention. Immediately wheel Claudio Angelini, superimposed with a face-to-butt, which hours incenses the United States as a place where you would love races. But porcocazzo, we make it once, one, not to make ridiculous claims?
Gerardo A Greek saying that Obama won only because there was the economic crisis, however, tell only prrrr . This dialectic is the level that the statement deserves.

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Naples has lost one of its favorite sons

Naples has lost one of its favorite sons.
That way, it seems addressed to Roberto Saviano. The author of Gomorrah
few days ago announced its intention to leave Italy.
is down to confess that collected signatures in support of Saviano, groups on facebook, and many newspapers to devote the first page.
But this time, no. This sentence is not dedicated to him.
Naples has lost one of its favorite sons.
And this beloved son, this time, is another 28 year old. It is not Saviano.
Lucio P. gone away. He left Naples.
Manco was a "metropolitan African," he decided that he will live a " plateau" in the periphery of Milan " (non me ne vogliano “ La Scelta ”, ma le case del centro costano troppo, e Lucio non se le può permettere!).
Lucio P. si è trasferito a Milano.
Napoli ha perso uno dei suoi figli prediletti.
Nessuno ha raccolto firme in favore di Lucio, per farlo restare. Pare anzi, che già da anni fossero stati costituiti dei comitati (gli antesignani dei “gazebo” di Forza Italia) che raccoglievano firme, appositamente per cacciarlo. E una firmetta l’ho messa anche io…
Stessa indifferenza dal popolo di facebook: a Lucio, nessuno gli ha dedicato un gruppo! Ad essere onesti, se ne fossimo stati capaci, lo avremmo fatto. E il titolo sarebbe stato: “ Italy and Italians Lucio P. outside Italy. "
Not to mention the newspapers: there was at least one (we would have satisfied even a local newspaper) to devote a mere blurb!
Even we, his lifelong friends, we learned this by accident ...
potergli Needless to organize the farewell party (with iron bars and sticks).
Naples has lost one of its favorite sons.
One who just won a game in the preseason Naples, already sewed the Scudetto on the shirt. And the last time he did a decade ago, Napoli were relegated in B.
One who had joined a mime school. But from there they cast him because they said they spoke.
But Lucius was not one that was just words.
Because, let's face it all, dear Saviano: who would not be able to write a book in which they denounced the responsibility of the Camorra, including waste disposal?
But the truth is otherwise. And that is that few actually do something concrete to solve the garbage problem in Naples.
Lucio did: from the moment he is gone, the streets of Naples, there is a lot of garbage in less (a nice, big bag, and more ambulatory! If all the garbage in Naples as he did, that city would become very clean ...).
Naples has lost one of its favorite sons.
It is not the usual brain drain. Why Lucio, the brain had it, did not have ever had. He had no idea of \u200b\u200bthe brain what to do. He
things complicated, do not want, did not concern him. He was a simple.
You did a little happy with the match of beach volleyball at six in the evening (if we were tired, the edge is folded on the "seven is crushed"), exit " to make pizza" (it to him ' I said at least a dozen times, I went to the pizza does not do - mica so 'a cook - but I used to eat), and walk in the square after dinner.
And it was one in the stands, had nothing to envy "the boy curve B " Lucio P. was an example of fair play!
When the stage shouting "Vesuvius force" or " Laval with fire," Do not take it: the eruption was never quite up to the Vomero, he was safe anyway!
And then, still under Naples. Force the sun, sea, pizza, Vesuvius (which erupts if so, Lucio not catch him), mandolin and ... "rubbish."
Yes, well under "rubbish", because that is from Naples. And then force you too! And dear Lucius, tell me also force unemployment?
Naples has lost one of its favorite sons.
" And who cares about small " Neapolitan Vomero? " Fuck this " Lucio P.? " Now do one thing: turn it off well this radio. Turn around the other side as well, so you know how they end these things. We know that nothing can change ... "
So, dear Naples," nun makes stupid tonight ": keep well your sun, your sea, your pizza, your Vesuvio (if it erupts, both Lucio not caught before, I figured that now is in Milan), your garbage. Keep your well unemployment.
But always remember one thing:
Naples, you lose one of your favorite children!

... and not you noticed ...

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Il meme della paura

For the two readers who still do not know, I'm in Rome until the end of November. A study. Bread.

The moment I realized that Obama could win coincided with this article by Michael Chabon. Since then I have been very clear that the real obstacle to the election of Obama were not conservatives, but defeatist. Those who "vote for Hillary not to waste a vote" (in the primaries?), Those who "figured if they elect a black man in the uniti" (tu chiamale se vuoi: proiezioni...), quelli che "tanto pure se vince lo ammazzano". E ne ho sentiti tanti , anche tra amici e persone che stimo e con cui ho una larga base di opinioni condivise. Sarebbe interessante studiare il meccanismo che porta al fatalismo politico.
Oggi leggo su Gawker un articolo che parte da una frase di Obama, e porta la mia riflessione molto più in là. Copincollo ampi stralci perché merita, ma l'originale, da leggere per intero, lo trovate qui .

There was a tendency in New York, among liberals used to assuming that the elections are all stolen anyway, to assume the Obama campaign was doomed before it began because of his blackness, plain and simple. There was, similarly, a dark speculation, sometimes in the form of macabre joking, sometimes serious paranoia, that Obama would not survive the campaign if he got too close to the prize. What that didn't take into consideration was that as he looked more and more electable, more people liked him. Honestly, some thought Iowans were more likely to shoot him than vote for him. Then he proved them wrong, and the paranoia lifted, slightly. [...]

It's actually kinda shocking how few death threats we've heard about, especially considering the attention this patently ridiculous one received in the media. (Though we'd figure the ATF would be more likely to crow about breaking up an assassination attempt than the Secret Service, who tend to prefer to keep things quiet and not encourage the crazies.) But don't get too complacent! A Missouri Nazi tells The Guardian that a couple more Nazis will still promise to kill Obama, and Andrew Krucoff finds proof that Mississippi is still, you know, Mississippi.
But Obama's right—they're marginalized. The debate's shifted immeasurably, even from a couple years ago. As a fine measure of how far we've come, the GOP has to use code words for "Muslim terrorist" this year instead of just reminding us of his conventional, acceptable Blackness. God bless us all!

Abbiamo tanto stigmatizzato la paura altrui, quella dei medio-borghesi leghisti che votano il partito which promises to free them from the evil alien, and then we were victims of our own. That would be nice to understand exactly what it is. It is to think about it.

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Il punto di non-ritorno

understand that the possibility of returning to live in Italy you really wearing thin when you leave the house, at the height of your mental faculties, the Birki with striped socks.
No. rephrase. Understand that
blablabla ... when you leave the house wearing proudly Birki with the striped socks.

You also know that the slim possibility is not entirely precluded, because you have opted for long pants. Very long.

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Gli dei accecano quelli che vogliono portare Italian TV to perdition

not mi bastava, no.
Non mi bastava essere andata a Roma (solo per farmi una chiacchierata con lui , vorrei precisare) e tornarne con una fantastica opportunità di imparare a fare la fornaretta seriamente . E con un maestro d'eccezione.
Non mi bastava che all'aeroporto, per la prima volta nella mia vita, il mio bagaglio spedito arrivasse per primo sul nastro trasportatore.
Non mi bastava misurarmi con una ricetta di lievitato che avevo sempre guardato con un misto di terrore e rispetto. Non mi bastava uscirne vincitrice.

Dovevo sfidarlo ancora il destino, dovevo superare le colonne d'Ercole, e osare là dove gli uomini non osano.
Dovevo comprare i carciofi. A ottobre. In northern Holland. Ben is
me.

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Homo ridens

I returned to my mind a teaching of Professor of Letters high school: the classics are always studied, because they help us understand the human soul. Times change, but the human spirit is always the same, unchanging, always moved by the same passions.

The feelings we feel, are the same as the ancient Romans also tried ... In short we are "just the copy of a thousand summarized " (Samuele Bersani ... who is more classic than he?).

Needless to say, that our anxieties, our problems have been addressed previously by others. They've been so good to formulate solutions, and generous to them in writing, for the consumption of posterity!

is why we must focus on the classics: Historical Courses and actions, everything has already happened, everything has already been solved ... and even put in writing! So, we want to go see at least that has been proposed solution?

Dear readers, you would have made this argument to be convincing?

in those days I had not drunk. Prof.

The mica was stupid: he had noticed that every time he attacked explain Catullo, the class was performing in scenes of "extraordinary" madness, that sooner or later would culminate in a collective suicide.

And so, here he was looking for loopholes: heart problems (and who has not, at age 16!)? No need to turn to Strangelove (All You Need Is Love), read Catullus, you will find the solution!

What then, to be honest, if you read Catullus, you could draw one lesson: the horns have neither space nor time. Other

that immutability of the human soul!

But I must say that after what I've seen a few days ago, I changed his mind.

classics, something the apt ... A

said it all: Risum abundat in hours stultorum (rice have increased in the mouths of fools) ...

True, very true ...

The other day I met a ridens homo, and I must say that it was a " stultus .

But let's concentrate on defining a moment! It is said

homo ridens , who when they talk about others, fails to hold propio Ridolini derision. It does so to give themselves a voice: the 'homo ridens fact is arrogant and snobbish (in the Latin of the word, and that is "sine nobility"). Then just

is his turn to speak, can claim all the attention, then be a real Blufi : just open your mouth, to show off all his ignorance is tiny!

Ok, but what are the remedies against homo ridens ? What do we do before him?

I remembered the teaching of Prof. and tried to "shelter" in the classics.

There is a passage of Satyricon of Petronius, in which a character is a "deal" a homo ridens ... let's see what he says:

" What's so funny, moron ? ... A head of kale, which mocks the others! A bum, a jerk is not worth his urine. I mean, if he does not know him urin not cut and run. Cursed misery, I'm not one who pissed easy, but people eat worms if the springs! And he laughs, he! But that will never laugh? "(Satyricon, 57).

Evidently, not only the human soul is immutable, not only the feelings are always the same, and the horns are not limited neither by space nor time.

Even the 'homo ridens has always existed!

And there have always been the words with which to invite him to shut up.

already exists, just had to go and look!

Bottom line: if you encounter a homo ridens , armed with Satyricon !

Recitategli those lines I have pointed out with the same solemnity with which he recites the formula of a powerful spell!

There deceived: There is magic that can bring change to the head Ridolini!

But you want to put the satisfaction ...

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Cara

... I write because today I saw something incredible . You have this

David Letterman? No, it's not really a comic ... is one that began as Marzullo, but, oh, everybody has Marzullo it deserves, and indeed it is fun, and we obviously do not deserve shit.
However, mo 'which has the Letterman show this important and calls us a bit' all, even the politicians. And politicians are very happy when we can go because, if they have some 'spirit, make us the figure of those brisk and cheerful.

fact is that McCain is always with Letterman andato a nozze. Ci sarà stato almeno dieci volte, e se l'è cavata alla grande. Mo' però è successa una cosa: McCain ha deciso che il suo dovere di senatore lo richiama a Washington, perché ci sono le interrogazioni parlamentari sulla crisi economica. Fa niente che ci sono altri 99 senatori: lui è stato in Vietnam, quindi sa come farli parlare questi maledetti musi gialli. E insomma, basta con quest'inutile campagna, lui c'ha cose serie da fare, mica è come se dovesse convincere qualcuno a eleggerlo presidente degli statiuniti, e se non ci sta lui colcazzo che combinano qualcosa al senato .

Quindi McCain, invitato la sera stessa da Letterman per l'ennesima volta, chiama il conduttore: "Oh, bella David. Mi spiace, stasera proprio non gliela fo. Sto andando all'aeroporto di corsa, devo andare a tagliare i polpastrelli a Paulson (guardalo, c'ha la stessa espressione di Henry Gale!)".
Omette però il piccolo particolare che, prima di andare di corsissima all'aeroporto, si sarebbe fermato a far quattro chiacchiere con Katie Couric per l'edizione notturna di CBS News.

Letterman s'è incazzaaaaato... però, siccome non è Marzullo, non se l'è presa col truccatore tirandogli addosso il fard, ma con John McCain. Di fronte alla telecamera.




Qui il racconto nel caso, cara tivvù, tu sia English-impaired.
Eccheccazz, manco quello vuoi leggere!
Evabbè. In breve: l'ha massacrato.

Perché, cara tivù italiana, lì nella Merica, quando un candidato si lamenta che lastampacomunista non parla/parla male di lui, riceve in risposta sonore pernacchie: " C'è una crisi, se non se ne fosse accorto ". Tu gli prepari i panini.

Insomma, cara tivù italiana. Io non è che ti dico che mo' Marzullo deve finirla di fare domande idiote. O che Vespa deve cominciare a fare domande non compiacenti. Non pretendo mica la Merica.
Mi basterebbe, chessò, che magari quando si piega a 90° per una seduta di ass-kissing , almeno la smettesse di far finta che gli piace.
Ecco, sarebbe un passo avanti.

Poi, insomma, fa' come vuoi. Tanto col cazzo che ti guardo più.

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Bitch on the bitch ...

Here in Italy it's all fucked up.

So, they thought it was really necessary ddl Carfagna: in Italy it is no longer anything to hell!

" We are a strong country," said Silvio ...

No more prostitutes on the streets. Nor in general in places open to the public.

If so, may continue to engage those young ladies who act in a public place, but indoors, like the Gregoraci and Mons, who "worked" at the MFA.

Which I think is also right: if you stop prostitution in the institutions, such as Silvio ago to topple the leftist government next?

But the fact that the bill is named after the Carfagna's really funny!

Before the summer, it was rumored that intecettazioni (protection destroyed) of telephone conversations between Berlusconi and Carfagna, it appeared that the Minister, had engaged in oral sex of the bird Knight.

and the Ministry of Equal Opportunities was the reward for their service (well, if the must get comfortable with the birds)!

sure items are malignant.

But if not, return to the usual Italian problem: the conflict of interest!

With this law, Carfagna, who has dismissed the bill, it could continue to exercise.

With the Premier bird or other birds!

But oh well, you say ... it's easy to listen to the evil.

Those who say bad things about that poor girl.

champion of Equal Opportunity ...

... but also the truck drivers! The timing of

Carfagna, after his appointment as Minister, has been around the world.

And, as usual, we took the piss!

But we feel to break a lance in favor of the champion of the chicken.

Politics was truly his destiny! How can we not see the drive that motivated her Democratic initiatives "editorials"? If your bird with no play Carfagna, she provides you with the tools to play everywhere, even by yourself!

Now that's democracy!

But then ...

then ...

What is that statement of the Minister?

" horror I feel for those who sell their bodies .

But why, Carfagna was that? Posing nude for a calendar, you do not sell their bodies?

The only difference is that those who sell on the street, he earns a few segments, who sells it on a schedule, however, earning good money. And in the case of

Carfagna, with the calendar, is also able to become a minister ....

more profitable and horrible than this !?!?!

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steal the words from the keyboard

Ah, per inciso, il mio post di oggi l'ha scritto In minoranza .

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Today I feel a bit 'so

... la Jennifer Aniston della ricerca di lavoro .

(sì, linkare il Sun è indice dello stato di scoraggiamento)

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Great Expectations

Tra me e il mio tabaccaio c'è una tacita intesa.
Io so che lui parla perfettamente inglese, e lui sa che il mio nederlandese è un gradino sopra a quello del paffuto e biondo nano bavoso che attende con his mom that I end up puffing my ignoble theater.
He knows, but never an English word was exchanged between us.
He knows, but holds the part, with the patience and tenacity of the child Batavian ing that the dam with the little finger.
And I turn to him for trusting my mini-course conversation Nederland.

I am repeating the request three times, asking me if I want my strippenkaart "grote" or "kleine" (grote, grote, crack avarice!), If I want my tobacco, "groen", and I then repeated three more times the total price, so the revision numbers above 20, which I always forget them. And then I always change the greetings. Hello, hoi, goedemorgen , Goedenavond , dag , Doeg, tot ziens .
Madame Montessori die with envy watching my tobacconist work.
Just in case the wife or mother would intercept the first, is inserted in the sudden play by Ionesco, even if someone else is serving. My tobacconist's very clear the importance of its mandate.

And my tobacconist has high hopes pinned on me. The other day while rovescione by running water, so sudden and typical of these lands, descends from the sky. And my tobacconist, laughing, asking me the equivalent of an English small talk about the weather, lasting at least 30 seconds. I look at my tobacconist, torn between compassion for the honor of the upgrade and the frustration of not understanding a fucking pretty. And, without saying a word, I read in his eyes a smiling father and empathic understanding. "Someday," say his eyes, "one day we will talk about the rain ... the Dutch market has been moved to work resurfaced ... the absurd price of Nuon bills ... and that day will be beautiful ... in the Meanwhile ... "

- Wat kan ik voor je doen?
- Eine * Een grote strippenkaart, alstublieft!

*: And anyway there is no danger that I exchange for German, no.

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Feedback

Much of Race e neppure troppo fresche.

La prima riguarda la frase più infelice dell'anno.
Se c'è una cosa che ho sempre odiato è la "reductio ad usum sondaggi", quella mania di semplificare che fa sì che chiunque possa farsi carico del complesso lavoro del giudicare con una battuta, alla faccia della complessità e della stratificata natura delle cose. Certe dichiarazioni però mi fanno pensare che unirsi ai semplificatori può essere cosa buona e giusta, soprattutto se serve a descrivere Michael Moore con un'unica parola: imbecille. Del resto a lui sono occorsi 5 secondi (vd. dal minuto 1) per qualificarsi come tale.



La seconda è un blog che mi sta facendo molto ridere: Blognigger.com . And here you laugh in desperate need.

The third is the creation (do not know how comforting) that the syndrome Tafazzi is a global problem which we hope the U.S. does not have to confront at the next election. The Daily Show a few days ago, John Oliver reports on a proposed Hillary Clinton supporter "who feel betrayed" by the Obama candidacy and have decided to vote McCain. The video reaches an absolute peak of hilarity, not to be missed.

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Republic always on the news. Or a few hundred kilometers to the southeast.


We here like spinning tops, to shuttle between the telephone and television, groped to convince us that worry, even if the family of C. decided to stay. We are ready to believe their version, which Nagin is exaggerating because he wants to impress those who want to stay because he has no choice, because they do not want to leave. Why.

But I come to discover that there will be tomorrow morning and trepidation in the days following, which Gustav has already hit "near New Orleans," which has already Repubblica.it the first photographic evidence (above, evidence of snapshot; here, if someone does not notice in writing before the shot bullshit). Msnbc.com reports that one on the right, or the current position of the hurricane, it must obviously stuff too old for those hawks journalism Rep.it.

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Labor Day

Hold type delivery room here. Forced Evacuation
there.
The only difference here is that you can not escape, but ironically, the consequences could be similar. Could

The storm hit on Monday.
So we crowd the sandbags.
I think, there.
We know that we think, as you try to go to Colorado.
For a few days I will also miss the Democratic convention.
Not that you give a fuck, right. How wrong
give you after what you spent?

Break a leg.

Wearing Bandaid, Finger Slightly White

Superheroes? The Billionaire

bewitched by the lure of the Sirens (again half of them) I went in search of my "fifteen minutes of fame" on Facebook. Needless to say, I did not find: Facebook is not for me! So here I am again, after a long, long, time.

Groundhog Day here.

Sometimes I think that to overcome insurmountable difficulties, I be a superhero. Like Batman or Superman.

Bella's life superhero! You get your sprouts, then, for some, when you see the signal coming from the Tower of Gotham, you wear the tights, and darted at full speed on the Bat-mobile. Or seen a threat from inside a phone booth, you pull off a suit and tie, and check your "S" on his chest.

But are we really sure that these superheroes, embodied in our daily lives continue to be "Super", or at least "Heroes"?

Batman, in my place, would do little to cool. Rome is not as Gotham City would be stuck in traffic here the ring road, should respect the speed limits, traffic lights, be careful not run into any ZTL (I know that the other day I also got a fine) ... Batman, in Rome, whisking!

Probably, after a couple of hours would prefer to take the subway (like me) or, at worst, sell the Bat Bat-mobile to buy a scooter!

Superman, it would be even worse. He did not have the car, given that (but do not speak in turn) have failed the driving test 5 times. Finally he decided it would be easier to learn to fly. But with time running, Clark Kent, regularly enrolled at the journalists, do not fare well! It would have a precarious work, which occupied him 25 hours a day, with a starvation pay. They passed a desire to fly from one end of the city, captured criminals ..

So, if even a superhero could do better than me, it's better that I stop thinking and start their efforts to overcome all the difficulties that seem insurmountable at the time!

Moreover, this view was also Julio Velasco, when he went in 1995 to host TV show "The Graduate ", conducted by Chiambretti and Paolo Rossi.

Speaking to an audience of university students, advised those present to ask the always unattainable goals. And to fight day and night to make them. "You will see " - he said - " that doing so will realize all your dreams, even those that seem most impossible ".

So I'm preparing to fight day and night.

thank all the people who have gone in my absence to visit this blog.

I leave you with the video of "Win in the end ", taken from one of my favorite movies when I was little, " Teen Wolf" (in Italian, "Teen Wolf " ).

I'm gonna win in the end!

Kate's Playground Cojiendo

not have the library. Let us help! The output

Dear riders of the blogosphere, I'm here to give you a sensational news, the kind you fall then even the language so you can lick your wounds (Pali and Odd): it's summer, will reopen the Billionaire Flavio Briatore! What

ass, you say!

I've never been too mundane. Until a few years ago, the Billionaire not even know what it was, nor I wanted to know. But I am very curious

a declaration of Diliberto, who interviewed the Billionaire Bignardi said he would go to, if ever, filled with dynamite ...

And that will never be a new intifada against the Billionaire? All of this magnitude!

there's more, since some days before sui giornali era apparsa una dichiarazione di un ex Ministro, Giovanna Melandri, la quale in una sua dichiarazione aveva negato di aver mai messo piede al Billionaire. La Melandri al Billionaire? Roba da querela!!!

E invece no, visto che la ex Ministra fu smentita da una foto apparsa su vari giornali, che la ritraevano mentre faceva un "balletto" nel locale di Briatore.

Evidentemente c'è una certa interscambiabilità dei ruoli, tra Ministra e ballerina: la Melandri, Minista, fa il balletto da Briatore. La Carfagna, ballerina (e calendarina) fa la Ministra nel Governo Berlusconi. Tutto torna, no?

Quando ho saputo della Melandri, mi sono cadure le braccia e ho pensato che fosse il caso che si ritirasse a vita privata. Mi ricordo che in una edizione del Grande Fratello, la Melandri aveva fatto recapitare dentro la casa dei libri, per ovviare alla vergognosa ignoranza dei concorrenti.

E tra Grande Fratello e Billionaire c'è una linea di continuità che fa paura: il target è lo stesso.

Pura apparenza, esteriorità senza contenuti, spreco, ignoranza.

E allora, perchè non recapitare (non dico il tritolo alla Diliberto) ma quanto meno dei libri al Billionaire?

Lancio una proposta a tutti i (pochi) lettori di questo blog, ma nella speranza che anche altre persone vorranno partecipare all'iniziativa: creiamo la biblioteca del Billionaire!!!

I toured the site of the local people the restaurant, the disconteca, but the library, no!

Then, the proposal would be this: you write an email to the Billionaire has recommended the purchase of a book (possibly your favorite book). This will make good (though only partly) to the low cultural level of most of the guest room (remember that wealth often goes hand in hand with culture ... and in fact I do not think a scientist Briatore), and especially to ensure that The next time that Melandri will travel there, not be forced to engage in ballets (the preferred Carfagna) but can rush to the library. Send mail to the following address: @ nicola.parente billionairelife.com (e-mail address is reported to the contacts).

So, we want to give a hand to Briatore to create a library for its customers?

Ps: I'm undecided whether to recommend "The Count of Monte Cristo" or "Ocean Sea". I'll think over the next few days and then send the mail. Books that you recommend?

Lowlights For Brunettes

perfect

Zelig From an episode of a few years ago, I learned a very valuable education. A comedian, I can not remember the name, he revealed that for going out - and pick up a lot of girls - the ideal was to be three.

If you go out alone, in fact, girls think you're a loser. It therefore does not combine anything. If

esci in due, pensano che siete due omosessuali. E, di nuovo, non combini niente.

Invece se si esce in tre, cambia tutto: infatti le ragazze rimangono spiazzate, non se l'aspettano, sono addirittura incuriosite: " quelli sono in tre!!! Non è uno e quindi non è uno sfigato, non sono in due, quindi non sono omosessuali... ma allora, cosa sono? Andiamo, andiamo!!! ".

Insomma, volete rimorchiare? Cari ragazzi, uscite a gruppi di tre!

E così ho fatto la scorsa domenica sera. Sono andato con due miei amici a Trastevere. Uscita in tre, tre ragazzi diretti a Trastevere. Bè, meglio di così...

Ma giunto sul posto, e resomi conto, visto the bad habit, that we would not hit on any girl, I'm reminded of the final part of the course of the comic of Zelig: is not out in three, if the three, two are gay, and the other is a loser.

As I recollect this terrible warning, I set my teammates out. And I could not fail to notice that indeed, a retro-expression by homosexuals, I had it.

Want to see the girls in Trastevere, they are exchanging sex for two?

And if they are homosexuals, who am I, the loser? No, no, no, the face of a loser I do not have it, absolutely ... the face of a loser have it .... has it ....

here, that of the next table! What really has the face of a loser!

For a moment, the vision of what was at the table beside me reassure: that has a face like a loser, not me!

(although, on reflection, to find a prototype of a loser there was no need to cast an eye at the next table! My fellow output, as well as gays face, also had a face like a geek. .. and how can you think of going to the trailer with such beings bi-fronts! )

But the thing that is worthy of note, is that what was at the next table, the loser, applied the "rule of 3 ", as she was with two other people.

Two fags? NOOOOOOOO!!

Two strophic!

That, with the loser's face, he was accompanied by two strophic, I will in Accompanied by two gay!

And what does what in the company of those two? We should exchange a table, he and I ... so, just to recreate the situation in the monitoring of the comedian: Output three, where two are fags, and the third is a loser! He would be fine in my place!

But no. I had to keep the two homosexuals. He, the nerd, the two strophic!

Needless to talk of a debate redistributive perspective: I'll give you a gay (so I have a backup), you give me a strophic (so you have ATR).

Bottom line: if you want two strophic, assume an expression of nerd ...

And in any case do not carry around two homosexuals that have both a face like a geek. In this case, better to go out alone!

Football Helmet Cake Pan

The Bandit and the sample

European Championship Final at the door. We dedicate today's post on Oliver Neuville, number 10 of the German national team.

Why, among the many players who will be featured tomorrow in the final, to dedicate a post just Neuville, that not even play the first minute, and perhaps even enter into the field (in the whole Europe will be played and not ten minutes in the second game)?

Well, the choice is not random: Oliver Neuville, I knew him in person, as children we played ball together.

Oliver was born in Switzerland. In Locarno. And this is what I knew about him so much that I called "svizzerino" because Swiss and petite stature.

His father is German, Italian and her mother, of Philadelphia, a small town in Calabria, Vibo Valencia (a few people, but 4 towers). And it's right there in Philadelphia, that I met twenty years ago. In one of the many afternoons and dull all the same, in like to cut your veins, there is only one alternative: to go to giocara soccer ball to camp. And to me, that I was younger, I did only play if there was Oliver, because he was the only one who took me into the team. And then. Then they are lost to me. The summer of 1992 was the last time I saw him. Perhaps even more went there to play the field, I had other things on my mind. And Oliver?

gone forever?

Not really. Summer 2002: Brazil-Germany World Cup final. Call home my uncle telling me to cheer Germany because of its ranks was one of my old friend ...

Who could it be?

Oliver Neuville!

The surname "Neuville" I had heard spesso nel corso degli anni. Sapevo che c'era un calciatore tedesco, un attaccante, che giocava nel Bayern Leverkusen, e che si chiamava Neuville. Ma non avrei mai immaginato che quel Neuville, fosse Oliver, lo "svizzerino".

E' che da ragazzino gli amici li chiami per nome, spesso nemmeno sai come fanno di cognome.

E' bastata un'inquadratura durante gli inni nazionali per riconoscerlo. Era lui.

E da allora, seguo il mio ex compagno di squadra in TV, ogni volta che gioca la Germania. Insomma, sembra la storia del "bandito e il campione".

Questi i motivi per cui domani, io tiferò per la Germania. Caro allenatore tedesco, mi raccomando, non fare scherzi. Hai tenuto Oliver in panchina the entire European play absolutely must do it tomorrow.

Here is a video taken from YouTube in which are some goals of the career of Oliver Neuville.

Forces Germany, under Oliver Neuville

Stomach Problems Renal

Considerations on the sidelines Europeo (just ended for Italy)

ends here! Italy comes from being a bad one against Spain, without ever having seen the ball (they were 80 years that Italy did not lose against Spain ... this will go down in history that is)! The disappointment of the fans

blue is cut into slices: stuff that we can prepare sandwiches for lunch tomorrow. Lots of sandwiches, of course!

Most were disappointed, however, the presenters of a program on 7 Gold, a broadcaster, I think, only regional, who had the courage to "pick up" Biscardi, after they had driven "ether" as a result of Calciopoli (Moggiopoli or, if you prefer).

And so, as the night is still too young to fall in the arms of Morpheus, I was watching TV to listening to "Biscardi & CO".

Among the "CO", there was also Capezzone, as is known, does not understand a shit about politics! I was listening to him in these clothes "football" and I can say without prejudice of any kind, that does not understand Capezzone not even a fucking football!

But the news are these: Italy does not go through? Spain played better, this is right! Capezzone not understand a fuck? That was also desirable!

The news is that today I met my cousin thirties, who told me that she would make the entire Dutch national football team. I tell you, dear readers, that indeed, the Dutch national team there's some blond who deserves ...

But my cousin did not refer to the current Dutch national team, but that a few years ago. In particular, his favorite is .... Edgar Davids !?!?!

Edgar Davids looks like a monkey ....

And my cousin would do if ...

If I bring my cousin to the zoo, which I combined, the orangutan rape me?

When Will Southpark Season 10 Be On Netflix

insurgents or disgusting? Neutralize

I continue to be tired, disappointed, annoyed. Revolutionary, no! That is still no! And 'even though the revolutions, not that you are never alone. There's no one in history, made by one person, we need a group.

A group was there. Or rather, there should have been. But even that is not enough: " there'll be no safety in numbers ", not the number that makes the difference.

Why is it clear whether you have gathered a group of pheasants or flamingos, of course you can not expect to make a revolution! At best, go to a zoo.

Need a group of rebels! People who are tired of this system, this way you do. People who want to change. But, I have around me a group of coins with all the "double face". People who front say one thing, that just turns around and says the opposite! It is a group of rioters are just disgusting ...

Ringworm And Glutathione

Salvatore Bagni. Or at least, azzittitelo! A misunderstanding

patios are critical to national Donadoni after the defeat last Monday. We've been hearing so much, all, to tell the truth, not constructive.

Most people considered the blue CT primarily responsible for the defeat. In particular: it had to play Del Piero, Grosso and De Rossi. Ambrosini shot in the legs, and internal Materazzi.

In my opinion, these are criticisms that do not take into account the facts. Not investigate the causes of effects. So, what we have to defeat on Monday?

First, Appointment consequentia sunt rerum!

They said the Latins (or Manzoni?), And then it's true!

names are the consequences of things!

So, if our CT-called Dona gifts, you can claim that our defense does not make gifts to the opponent? This, you see, is a constructive criticism, not those who are journalists!

Another criticism really constructive: the problem, that true, not that he had to play this or that player!

The fact is that, as long as you continue to deploy Salvatore Bagni to the commentary, it is not going anywhere! It 's like the '98 World sided instead of Baggio Del Piero!

And who deploy instead of baths? A new relay, this time to the commentary?

any other person. Put whoever you want, but remove Bathrooms!

And I wanted to laugh the other night. The Dutch, who "played", and he said they were old, tired, who would not right ... Who does not run, who had very strong players, and many many other bullshit. What to hear it, I wondered if he stood facendo vedere un'altra partita!

E meno male che quelli non si reggevano in piedi (secondo Bagni), sennò, invece di 3 a 0, quanto avremmo perso, 7 a 0?

Insomma, serve poco sbattere Ambrosini e Materazzi in panchina nella prossima partita. Finchè ci si ostina a schierare Bagni alla radiocronaca non si va da nessuna parte!

Cari lettori, una piccola aggiunta in questo post: finalmente è apparso su You Tube il filmato con la telecronaca di Salvatore Bagni, nella partita Olanda-Italia. Riascoltiamo insieme le più salienti perle di saggezza del cronista... Che rincoglionito!!!

Welcome Letters For Church Visitors

I do not give anything at all to that conference. I did not know what it was, I did not care. "I go there " - I said - " try to meet that person, and then who knows ... "

Maybe that is the right time for me, they open the gates of heaven. " Usually hell instead.

and that I should expect from a well? I imagined him a snob. Terribly arrogant. Ignorant! And in fact! How do you describe that gives you an appointment at 17:30, and then around 18:30 it tells you is not. That we do not do anything.

And now I was there. On the other side of Rome!

Il Convegno era organizzato dalla Camera dei Comuni (o qualcosa del genere) ed erano stati invitati a partecipare tutti assessori d'Italia.

Ma di ciò me ne sono accorto solo dopo... solo quando a causa di un malinteso hanno pensato che fossi un assessore anche io, e mi stavano scortando nemmeno tra il pubblico (composto da assessori), ma sul palco dei relatori.
Come dicevo, tutta colpa di un malinteso: appena sono entrato nell'aula, la prima domanda che mi hanno fatto è stata la seguente: " di che comune è? ". Mi avevano scambiato per un assessore. Io ho risposto, senza sapere a cosa si riferissero, che ero del Comune di Roma. Sono nato a Roma, vivo a Roma, che avrei dovuto dirgli, che ero del Comune di Milano?
E quelli stavano proprio aspettando un emissario del Sindaco, e hanno creduto che fossi io.

Un emissario in borghese, di quelli che vengono a controllare che tutto vada per il meglio. Di quelli che se sgarri, cazzi tuoi!
E così, eccovi i miei 15 minuti di popolarità: tutti servili al massimo, hanno iniziato a correre intorno a me con una frenesia che non ho visto nemmeno negli studi legali dove ho lavorato. Pensavano di avere un VIP tra le mani: " la microfoniamo subito "...mi dice una.
E che dovevo fare? Io appena vedo un microfono mi prende la sindrome dello Show-man! Passati radiofonici che lasciano il segno...
E così mi stavano accompagnando sul palco, pronti tutti to yield me the floor. What I told the audience of assessors? Perhaps I had an appointment with a type snob. An arrogant. And certainly also ingnorante. Why is arrogance and ignorance go hand in hand. Always!

And then, what else? That in the end, between that type and all of them, is not that some kind notassi difference? But there comes that girl, the one I had fixed an appointment with the snob.

unravels the misunderstanding, and reassures everybody: I'm not the emisssario the Mayor.

A couple of aldermen of any small community, had also taken my number. Just discovered the misunderstanding, one has deleted, in front of me. If you are not at least the vice-mayor of Rome, not the commissioner to Sports City Vattelappesca is interesting to you.

But the other did not immediately deleted. If you will be required for me Seriously (now called me one that was looking for a certain Paul ...)

Everything ends well. The rest are just useless discordant assessors who did nothing but claim other public funding. They want more money. Our money.

I had 50 cents at hand. You say I should tirarglieli?

Long Travel Suspension Blueprints

Myopia

sovrapensieri walked by the parties of the English Steps, where at one point I noticed that a girl was staring at me from inside a window.

dream or are awake?

pinch. Definitely awake! But too far.

better approach to better enjoy my "admirer".

I go.

Closer ...

but ...

possible?

I go a little bit more ...

e. ..

what?

A dummy? That girl is not a girl, is a dummy!

I think I increased the short-sightedness ...

Coleman Propane Lanturn Convert

advances will be arriving in Rome ... in spite of you! Happy birthday

The problem of the Italian guys? The total lack of planning! There is no ambition, no enterprise ... no nothing! Everything is still waiting for the manna falls from the sky! Did I

I explained: " the manna did not descend from heaven. Andarcela We will have to take !

shot eyes raving mad, maybe I have convinced them! Part also the applause!

" Thanks thanks, I do not deserve this, then, those inside and those outside ?"

All quiet!

As in cartons, when one says, " volunteers make a step forward." And all take a step back.

In short, it seems that once again will be so. I've submitted a project that never, ever be realized. A project to which all had joined. But when it came down to it, when we had to start climbing to the sky go and take the windfall, all take a step back.

Poor Italy! If we continue at this rate, we do not change anything at all!

This afternoon I listened to " Bomb or no bomb " Venditti ... and I was almost "gassed." The beginning of that song, it seemed an encouragement: " a couple, and were quite !

We had thought: there is no need to grow up mica. Although there are only two, we will do great things too. We had enough!

In the evening I met the second, he had to leave with me. And I concluded one thing:

I know, that we are one and a half ...

and BOMB BOMB ON, bomb bomb, will arrive 'in Rome, Rome ...

spite of you??

Older Purple Sony Car Amp

Ipse Dixit

"Quando una nazione diventa debole, fragile, vulnerabile come l’Italia, diventa ricattabile e, se vuole riacquistare autonomia e credibilità internazionali, meglio deve scegliere i suoi rappresentanti politici e ripartire daccapo: nel frattempo, deve mordere il morso delle briglie altrui. Io non ho alcuna voglia con questo sgangherato tessuto civile, economico, politico, culturale, istituzionale di fronteggiare Gheddafi a causa di Calderoli, preferisco Calderoli fuori dal governo – lo vorrei fuori anche dal parlamento, insieme a un sacco e una sporta di gente impresentabile per le fesserie razziste e sessuofobiche e tribali tout court che esterna, ma per il momento non si può":
Aldo Busi a proposito della dichirazione del figlio di Gheddafi su Calderoli ministro.

Lunch For Someone With Anemia

There are events that are celebrated (if possible, without delay, not as I do!) Well, this blog, last May 3 took a year! Not bad for the face skeleton is smoking a cigar.

time budgets? So, beyond the programmatic content (and rather "warlike") of that first post (I'll bet none of you read!), The main purpose of this blog was to create a communication channel with some of my friends (those of real life) that are far away from Rome (someone is in Naples, one in Milan, one power, one in Belgium, Switzerland and a world traveler who is in China ...? Bho do not know, but yesterday I received a postcard from his 'Argentina! Um, is always around !)...

Over the years (over twenty), with these characters, "diverse" we tried all possible means of communication to bridge the gaps: the first few letters and rare phone call, then e-mail, msn lately. Coincidentally, I discovered the blog. So I tried to give to them my new passion, and take advantage of an additional communication tool. The results are not really satisfactory. Two of my friends "Far away", on my trail have also created a blog. One, the blog "Crazy World" (by Lucio, the "sewer" of the group) has been created and there is dead, because it has not ever written a post. The other " The Temple of the Phoenix", contains the post yes ... but the author (my friend Daniel), the aim of spreading the Buddhist practice, did not consider it important to allow readers to comment (a blog without comments, and what stuff is ?!?!).

the end the conclusion is this: I was the Jack Skeleton of the situation, what had made up his mind to bring the celebration of Christmas in the City of Halloween ... And

paradox is complete! In fact, none of my friends are "distant" reads this blog, my intention had been created just for them! And so we continue to move forward with e-mail, msn, sometimes travel ... but do not start blogging!

the end, I am convinced of this: the blogger-mania do not export! You have to discover yourself, and you must make your own! Point. However

beyond the failure of the primary objective, there is a success! Through this blog I could "come into contact" with many people, both far and near. Contacts that sometimes are not limited to the network, but continued in real life.

And all of you who want to express our sincere gratitude Leisure facilities that decide to "waste" to read my post, for all the comments posted to the SMS sent talvota on my cell. But above all the continuing calls that I turn to participation in meetings blogger! We can say it: the network does not perceive it as a protection for those who feel insecure, but as a way to boost their chances of communication and socialization.

So, it would be nice to know and meet everyone! Who knows, maybe slowly!

Greetings to all e. .. stay tuned!

China Foreclosure America

Save the ladybugs!

There is little to be done: certain choices will affect their lives. You, those people who you are next ... but sometimes what you are away. Even light-years away! I told him I

10 years ago, that worm crawling and slimy, " Law is not for you. ... Go for zoology zoologist as I can see you there! Yeah I guess your argument on how to reproduce the Ladybugs ...

him, one of the most vile and lowly people I've met in my life - and we would call "slimy, creeping worm" - told me that he studied zoology not the ladybugs!

" See" - said I - " already you have an edge, you know that ladybugs are not studying zoology (???), but are you sure you would be better zoologo ".

E lui no! Il verme viscido e strisciate, dopo aver tentato invano il concorso a medicina, volle iscriversi a Giurisprudenza. Perchè proprio nell'ultimo anno di liceo si era messo con una - viscida e infima come lui - che voleva fare Odontoiatria.

E mi direte voi, che c'entra Giurisprudenza con Odontoiatria?

C'entra...perchè la "vermessa", tentò il concorso a Odontoiatria ma non lo passò. E così lei decise che entrambi (verme e vermessa) si sarebbero iscritti a Giurisprudenza.

Lui, il verme, era scettico all'inizio. Forse pensava che veramente fossero più interessanti le coccinelle!

Ma mica poteva contraddire la vermessa!

Scelte (anzi, "non scelte") che si pagano! Si perchè, prima o poi, tra due viscidi, va a finir male. E finisce male, quando ormai è troppo tardi per tornare indietro.

Finisce sempre male a pochi esami dalla fine dell'Università, quando tu, verme, stai preparando la tesi in diritto della navigazione, e pensi che sarebbe stata più adatta a te una tesi sulla riproduzione delle coccinelle.

E mentre pensi questo, ecco che la vermessa ti lascia!

Caro mio, sei stato un pollo! Hai assunto sembianze mitologiche ormai: metà verme e metà pollo. Non avresti mai fatto Giurisprudenza, se la vermessa non avesse deciso per te!

Se la vermessa non avesse deciso per te, milioni di coccinelle, a quest'ora, saprebbero come riprodursi!

E soprattutto...io, che dopo il liceo pensavo di averti tolto dalle palle (visto che tu hai optato per l'altra Università, quella "più facile"), l'altro giorno non ti avrei incontrato a spasso per il Tribunale.

Insomma, di nuovo tu tra le palle? Come 10 anni fa? Tutta colpa della vermessa!

Morale della favola: se conoscete un verme viscido e schifoso, che vi dice che se non passa il test a medicina, si fa convincere dalla vermessa, che a sua volta non ha passato il test a odontoiatria, a segnarsi a Giurisprudenza, fermatelo! Ricordategli che le coccinelle hanno bisogno di lui...

Grazie! On behalf of all the ladybugs in the world .... but also in my name!

How To Get Discovered Singing

Beer "ACQUAGASSATA" That runs

not easily forget what happened last Friday when I went to attend a conference that was held by the parties to Via Ostiense. In some conferences, should not provide lunch, if in the area, bars, selling sandwiches so disgusting!

Yes, last Friday I ate the most disgusting sandwich of my life!

But the subject of this post, wants to be a lousy sandwich.

admit that this sandwich was absolutely delicious, the best ever eaten in my life.

In fact, if stato buonissimo, magari invece di uno ne avrei mangiati due. Anche tre. Esageriamo: quattro. Ma non oltre! E difatti, anche se una cosa è buona, se ne abusi, alla fine ti disgusta.

E allora...

Ma come cavolo fanno quei belgi maledetti a farsi fuori 13 birre (minimo) a serata?

Lo ammetto: la birra belga è più buona della nostra. Lì ho assaggiato birra di tutti i generi e a tutti i gusti: persino la birra alla ciliegia, e al quella alla pesca ('na macedonia de birra, insomma).

Ma te ne prendi una, due. Al massimo tre... Poi ti ricordi che devi tornare a casa, e quindi la smetti!

E invece quelli no! Gli danno giù come dannati! E se tu sei con they can not refuse, you must drink, otherwise steps to antisocial behavior.

In Belgium, the sociability of the people is measured in glasses (tumbler) of beer. There is no concept of going out for a chat, but only that of going out to drink. Then, if we escape a chat, Belgium's endeavors (he does not want to!), But the important thing is to drink!

So, go with the first beer! The mechanism is strange. In fact, as soon as your glass is drained, the waiter comes immediately to make a new order. It seems that which has the radar!

And so orders. You're sitting by a quarter of an hour, and get a second beer.

Then a third ...

Now a fourth ...

Punctual, on the stroke of the last drop, is the waiter.

So, to change, modify beer, get the Kriek, the cherry beer.

very good, no doubt about it. But you do not have time to enjoy it, and within 5 minutes of your "drinking buddies" have already made out their beer, and waiting for eager (but also a little pissed off) because you want to finish your order a ' other.

you adapt and you stracanni frettissima in cherry beer. Re-
comes the waiter ...

doing two calculations (although the math is not my forte), I notice that the room for less than two hours, and I have already "annoyed" 5 beers.

" For me it's enough! ," I say to the waiter ...

What I look bad.

and Fortune tells me: " take something to drink, otherwise let's figure of shit." Ok ...

beer number 6: the apricot ...

Arriva. Time 10 minutes, and the pace of sponges Belgian requires me to take him out in 10 minutes ...

6 beers in two hours and a half ... a record ...

My table-mates, they begin to write the numbers .... Beer

number 7 ... I give up and take a Coke ....

look at me strange, " Coke is not an alcoholic drink !

And I say, "Maybe here in Belgium! But in Italy there is a new kind of Coke That is alcoholic" (trad, perhaps in Belgium! But in Italy there is a new type of Coca-Cola and alcohol) ... Fortunately

'sti Belgians drink everything and then you are too drunk' is bullshit!

Tour # 8: I order a fantasy. Of course I said that this was also alcoholic.

Round 9: one invites me to try the Belgian Duvel, a beer that has a 40in degrees, and which also sucks (the only Belgian beer that makes me sick) ... I take my time! And they call me before you make the Duvel, to taste a beer that in Italy so much, we have the most alcoholic beer in Italy!

I promise that Duvel take it to the next round ...

He follows me ... the waiter ordered two glasses of mineral water ...

The guy was so drunk that you have not noticed that the drink that I was doing the drinking water was very common! And I also asked what brand it was, it would have taken it again.

"ACQUAGASSATA" ... I say to him! The brand is "ACQUAGASSATA.

And he kept saying "AUAKAZATHA? No, no, "ACQUAGASSATA" preliminary better !?!?!?

"AKKAGAZZASA ... Oh well, take care ... you write it expects "ACQUAGASSATA. He said, "AGUAGASsssSSSaaaAAATA "?!?!? What the fuck, I miss read you know!

Alla decima birra, il compagno di bevute che mi stava davanti, inizia a parlarmi in fiammingo. Gli avevo detto che non parlavo (e non capivo una parola) di fiammingo, ma tra i fumi dell'alcol (e dell' "AGUAGAZZATA", o come preferite pronunciarla) non ci stava pensando. Io naturalmente annuivo. Senza capirci una mazza, ma annuivo!

Insomma, sono arrivati a 17 birre... Di cui, solo un paio, di quelle bevute da loro, erano della nota marca italiana "ACQUAGASSATA".

Io ho terminato il mio score (facendo il record di birre in una notte), a quota 7 birre, 2 coche (alcoliche), una fanta (alcolica anch'essa, naturalmente), e 7 birre di marca "ACQUAGASSATA".

Insomma, I could not keep up with glasses of water ....

Bottom line: If you are in Belgium, the Belgian company, do not be intimidated by their huge mugs of beer! So after a couple of hours drinking "one's throat" does not begin to understand anything, and you can make him drink the pure mineral water, that both do not realize it. In any case, drink Belgian beer as well, but if you go to follow the conventions of the parties dell'Ostiense, do not eat the sandwiches, which they suck!

Nick Jonas In The Hospital 2010

"cute" ... Back from Belgium

Oh you drive! I imagine you, sitting comfortably on the chair of your PC while "sprawled" think, " though, nice 'I runs ! And it's easy to say - or think - " cute 'I'm runs," for you that you've never been!

Ehssì, because that was the opening words of the first bad luck ... shot, but that settled well. That runs - that you "sprawled" regarded as "cute" - is located in Belgium.

It 's a long story to explain in a few lines, is also a fact too: in Belgium people do not leaves the house. It seems they are afraid to leave (and in fact, if you notice, the runs, although "cute" is totally deserted ...) But I

mica are Belgian, and so, even if I'm in Belgium, I go out and even then, since I'm on vacation!

And I think I see a little park "cute" and I'm not going to give me a ride?

So far, do not bat an eyelid!

But the fold, comes early, and has two legs, two arms, a head (but without the brain) ... as a profession and is the keeper of the "nice little park!

Any keeper of a park, before you close it, it would make a tour to see if there are still people inside. But do not prick the caretaker, who closed the park and if they fuck!

have thought, "so we in Belgium, are all sealed shut in the house ... 'I'm shit and I park it too, like everyone else to gorging on beer ...

And if there's anyone still inside, 'sti cocks!

Well, that someone was me. Fortuna and I were in the park! Capito guardian of shit?? Fortune and I are still in the park! As they say in Flemish FUCK?

So you can do? Scream? No, so there is nobody on the street!

So only one solution: FENCE ...

We climb up a big gate that will be 2 feet high ... At the top, it's time to jump! How will you land?

Appointment sunt rerum consequentiae ... (I said the Professor of Italian, perhaps as he explained Betrothed i) ...

So, if your name is lucky, lucky, Fortunello, o Cascosempreinpiedi, stai pur certo che il tuo atterraggio sarà ottimale!

Se hai un altro nome, invece, è meglio che cerchi una panchina e ti rassegni a trascorrere la notte nel parco!

Io di nome non faccio Fortunello... e se mi lancio, anche se casco in piedi, non è detto che non mi faccio male!

Mi lancio è... I feel like I can fly ...

Ma sfortunatamente ho " feel " male, e quindi all'impatto con il terreno ho sentito un TAC...

Morale della favola: se sei in Belgio, meglio se non esci di casa. Se proprio vuoi uscire di casa, non andare nel parco. Se proprio vieni attratto da quel parco "carino" e pensi che is a sin not to go for a walk - and then, my dear, are you that you look for it - remember, before going to remove the guardian. Otherwise you terminating the inside!

Printable Red Bull Coupons

Back from Belgium! To begin with, a salute to the pilot of the plane that brought me back home safe and sound! A note, though: next time, before you leave, do not watch "Top Gun", which has a strange effect on you, me and then, during the flight, I get seasick (I was not even on board a ship!).

said that, at least for those curious to see me in "radio" here I am in all my "beauty" ... My slogan? " Meno pubblicità e più umanità "! Difatti, la questione non è più quella che si poneva 3 anni fa, quando quella radio aveva aperto...

Non mi chiedo più se sono io che "innesco" le canzoni, o se sono le canzoni che "innescano" me.

Ormai, si sa, è la pubblicità che "innesca" tutto, canzoni, speaker, direttore della radio, pubblico..

TUTTO!

E allora basta! Voglio più umanità !

E invece, al mio ritorno a Roma, è proprio quella che mi è mancata!

Una sfiga improvvisa e imprevista, si è manifestata su tutti i fronti, proprio in questi due giorni:

- mi è arrivata una lettera che mi "invita" a pagare il contributo annuale di 75 Euro per l'iscrizione all'albo;

- ho preso una storta e mi fa male il ginocchio (e già ho pagato in palestra i mesi di aprile, maggio e giugno);

- ieri un tizio mi aveva chiamato per invitarmi ad uscire con lui e una nostra comune amica (bona), la quale portava le amiche. Oggi sono andato all'appuntamento, e c'era solo il tizio, le ragazze avevano dato forfait . Lui lo aveva saputo già da un pò, ma non mi ha detto niente pensando che sarebbe stato ugualmente piacevole vederci noi due. A me di vedere lui non me ne fregava niente: io andavo all'appuntamento solo per vedere la ragazza (bona) e conoscere le sue amiche (che non si sa mai);

- in Belgio avevo girato con la macchinetta digitale un video, appositamente per metterlo sul blog. NON VEDEVO L'ORA DI METTERLO SUL BLOG! Ieri, nonostante vari tentativi, il mio blog si è rifiutato di caricarlo! (il video dura 7 minuti, forse non me lo carica perchè è troppo lungo? Si accettano sufferimenti tecnici);

- in seguito all'incontro con il tizio di oggi pomeriggio, ho appreso che molto probabilmente una mia proposta per l'organizzazione di un gruppo di studio, verrà rigettata: EVVAIIII;

- a questa ondata improvvisa di sfiga non posso rispondere nemmeno con l'alcol, visto che a causa della mia permanenza in Belgio, I became allergic to beer

EU Famo horns! And if some mica field so! Send me an exorcist!

see that if this continues, I'm going back to Belgium!

Finally, after a record of bad luck, it is imperative a warm greeting to those who were my three traveling companions in Belgium: what you see on the left is Pepper, called "Pedal", which is much less sinister than it appears in the photo (sorry Peppe, but this was the only photo in which all were there), that right is fortunate that, to understand, is the guy who led the program with me on the radio.

Then, lie down on the tables, chips fries, typical Belgian! (Never eat fried patina so good for them ... but it's the same beer: after a while you also the dreams at night, and it is not pleasant)

EU, does not distract you with pictures! We say NO all together in this wave of bad luck that "me" around! Take care, I'm going to sleep, and tomorrow morning at least want to wake up without pain in the knee and with a new letter on the desk in which I communicate that you are wrong, and therefore no longer have to pay 75 Euro ...

Otherwise, Book me an exorcist ...

... and also a one-way flight for Belgium ...

Feline Cataract Surgery Cost

Cigarettes and shit

The world is full of Cazzaro! Statistics show that smokers are more now.

Blame the high cost of living: not really spared no one, except them!

cigarettes increased! Saying crap instead, is always free ...

So to say all the bullshit!

now is an epidemic, you're surrounded which looks like a siege. The assault on Fort Apache ...

But I say ... But

tutte 'ste shit around will not make us evil?

E 'that all - really all - are concerned about the smoke. But none of the bullshit!

And so, in any public place you are, there is always a sign that says " smoke. "But I never found a sign written on" prohibited say bullshit!

Even in the disco and clubs, if you want to quit smoking. The crap instead, you can safely tell you to your seat, in full

freedom ... And if a cigarette does not refuse even to a person sentenced to death, imagine a bullshit!

The worst, however, are those who say they could not give up a cigarette after a night of sex. Taken from amnesia, these guys do not remember how much it cost to get to the post-coital cigarette! how fucking had to tell the girl to take her to bed!

And the smoke of a cigarette wrap all those shit, that mica disappear, fly, take the form of pretty bubbles! Mica you let go of this ...

There's nothing to do. The exponential growth of Cazzaro, does not raise the necessary concerns.

So, if on each packet of cigarettes, there are phrases like "smoking is unhealthy," "smoking causes CANCO" etc., etc., in

kit perfect Cazzaro there is no tool which is written

"SAY CAZZATE damages your health", "THE KILLS fuck you."

Also because it would not be true! You say a mistake? Mica will you Gas, gas who listens to you! The

Cazzaro is "Cazzaro", not "stupid"!

It 's a bit like the history of passive smoking, which is harmful to most non-smoker, but who is in the outpost. The

shit, from this point of view, so it is even worse than passive smoking. That also causes the least harm to the smoker.

So I turn to you, "Cazzaro person" ... If a

Cazzaro (active) speaks with you, you tell him to stop.

CAZZATE THE ONLY KILLS YOU.

At the extreme, to suggest Cazzaro to smoke a cigarette ... (possibly not in your presence)

Ps: Dear readers, we are between 80-10 days! The suitcases are packed, air, wait! Destination Belgium! I'm going to lead a program on the radio! Those interested in listening to me (at least you know that voice I) can do it from Italy via the website of radio (click here ) . Go in Space "listen live" and select the "player". Together with my friend Fortuné will lead the program "Hitaliani us," which airs Tuesday, April 1st (no April Fools!), From 19:00 to 20:30. The programs are in Italian, so ...

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