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The bird turned the screws on the world

Love, love, love.

I love this writer, it is unlikely. And like all the writers I revere, I'm sipping. The novels he wrote are not many and I want to enjoy this for a while. I'm leaving now with the plot.

In a suburb of Tokyo, the young Toru Okada has just voluntarily left his job and devoted himself to the housework. Two seemingly insignificant events can, however, to overturn his quiet life: the disappearance of the family cat and the anonymous call that a woman's voice asks for a sensual encounter. Toru will realize soon that in addition to cat, who is very fond of his wife Kumiko, Kumiko will try it. The limited space of his daily life becomes the scene of a search in which dreams, memories and reality mingle and meet people that will lead to more and more strange: the prostitute, psychotic, morbid to sixteen, from the political evil, the old and mysterious war veteran . Gradually Toru must resolve the conflicts of his past life of which not even suspect its existence.

An intriguing novel that illuminates those gray areas where everyone hides secrets and fragile.

of these writers I've only read two novels, this "Dance Dance Dance. "I had never heard of it until one day Mario sent me via mail a file with just this book. I read at work, at times the dead, and another between a call and I was immediately captured.

Murakami writes those books that you like and involve you so much during the day can not wait to stop doing what you're doing to go back to read. It happens a few times.

find themselves recommend to my beloved Lady Mara, I realized that I could not explain why I liked it so much, but I've thought about it a lot and now I think I have figured out why.

First because it is written really well and with the elegance that only the Japanese can to have (provided the Lady), and secondly because the characters are normal people and often banal and boring that you end up living much experience outside the normal surrealissime: and living with a certain nonchalance!

Another thing I like are the constant references to food and something that always made me see the Lady, the basic philosophy that everything that happens in life, then take on a meaning by virtue of other events and everything is linked with another. This occurred even made dozens of years before the birth of Okada, people who even know, prove to be meaningful for his life.

And then the existential reflections. Mom my, clear, clean, simple and yet so pregnant with meaning.

you'll see, I am in this book, give almost full marks, almost a good half past nine.

The only thing that has me a bit 'disappointed was the end, but then I think that really got to a certain point of twists there were so many and so many secrets were revealed and understood when, who cares that a good end, I come out naturally .. Let

of citations.

When one has nothing to do, thoughts wander farther and farther away. And when you are away too much, then no longer able to follow them.

Stop yourself scruples, just emptiness inside. Imagine rolling in the soft mud on a warm spring evening.

She took my hand and led me in the garden of his house. Then he moved a deckchair in the shade of the oak, and I made him sit there. The branches spread thick and dense shadow which had the smell of life.

After ten minutes he returned May. He was holding a large glass, which gave me the ice clinking. The sound seemed to come from a world far away, separated by several gates from the place where I was. The case he wanted at that time were all open, and that sound came up to me.

Whatever the outcome, the ability to have complete trust in someone is one of the finest qualities of human beings.

So I think, to have learned the hard way that life is something much more limited than believe those who find themselves caught in the whirlwind of life. The light is to illuminate the actions of life for a limited time and very short. For a few seconds only, perhaps. Past which is gone, and if one fails to grasp the revelation that was offered at that time, will not have a second chance. It will have to live the rest of his life in profound solitude, in a hopeless regret. In such a world without light can no longer expect to receive anything. All that will remain in the hands of the receiver will only be short-lived of what should have been.

so I stayed until dawn, unable to sleep. I did not want to sleep, I was afraid to sleep. I felt as if I was asleep I would be overwhelmed by the current of a river of sand that would transport me to another world. And I would never be able to go this way.

I inhaled deeply, there was always a strong smell that filled the air and made it heavy. Somewhere there must be a vase of flowers in there. In some corner darkness of the flowers breathed wringing.

Then he took off his glasses, threw them in his jacket pocket and I looked into his eyes as if searching for a coin dropped into a pond.

the ground floor there was a travel agent, whose windows were attached two posters at the port of Mykonos and a streetcar in San Francisco. Both faded like a dream than a month old.

According to him, who knows why, was to think that talking was something vulgar and inappropriate.

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All chrome is yours if you say siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
returning from a dinner at the home of Silvia. The same
Silvia broke my heart more than half a year ago. For some
'I decided that I broke the damn think continuing what I have broken my heart and that's it. So for a while ', little by little, came back into my life.
And I'm happy.
I cooked the rice with basmati rice and zucchini. Bono. And MUCH pecorino romano. Forte.
We talked, talked, ate, drank the legendary and incomparable wine cellar social Bonazzy, watched videos of his theater, my last few photos of Australia, and then talk about it smoked.
And the feeling that everything is ok. And it dawned
Lucio. One can not hear and see Lucio.
Then I realized my having to return on foot, with the means I started across to the Brianza that counts.
But how do you cut the voice of Lucio, so emblematic of?
You can not.
In fact I continued to sing up at the station, the Republic. With the ipod.
The side entrance. Gray and empty, so for years. When later I always seem to have happened in the setting of a science fiction movie in which all the world's population died suddenly without leaving a trace and I'm the only survivor. There. Gray, and empty green "Ferrovie Nord". With the sign of the times in blocks that rotate.
Belli.
None. Fixed
to see on the poster that will track my train, ears cost me a life, nothing would give, but my heart is sick and I know that heals. addition to music I hear my voice, ever so smooth and pettinatamente sang this song. And I found myself thinking that this city offers to run away precious moments for those who know how to find them. And I continued.
not say no, say no, do not say no, say no.
I know you love another, but what can I do
I am desperate, because I want to love you, because you want to love, because you want to love, because you want to love,
Tonight
Now
It
me enough time to die,
your arms like that,
Tomorrow can forget tomorrow, but now you tell me
not say no, say no, say no, take everything I
me enough time to die in your arms like that,
Tomorrow can forget tomorrow, but now, now you tell me, now you tell me, tell me now you
not say no, say no!
I do not know why this statue can get me out of this strength, this joy and desire to sing. And with this sense of wrenching sadness.
Tonight I had the knowledge to come into my life was in the fifth Battisti.
The first began here, right where I am now in my room in my parents' house, on my bed with my brother in stereo with dual cassette blockbusters and I know him and learn the songs by heart. At this stage many times after listening to "Pink flowers, peach blossoms" I found myself singing it out loud alone on the balcony.
Then the arrival of grunge and Nirvana all killed. But the grunge
fetish pass and here we are at the stage Robert. Hours spent listening to the great Lucio with him, my boy ez convict with a particular sensitivity to the Italian pop music and movies by Sylvester Stallone. During our story enters my mythical blue point, impossible not to "burn" an entire box in honor of Baptists.
And then move on to John, the third, one in which he and I listen in the car together, I sing, he listens to both (me and Lucio) with one hand on my knee and twisted my hand inside (inside her , not inside the knee), and Giannino always telling me that every time you want to think and feel close to me, listen to Baptists.
After the springs are not able to listen to it for months and months and months. Even when I left for Australia, the national Lucio was not even among the voices of my mp3 player. Then one day in Sorrento, after less than a year, we find ourselves doing general cleaning at home, after a night of full moon at the beach in a beach back. Home is shit, there is sand everywhere. MG has come to control us at 9 am and made us an incredible placed on the state of the house. Ok. Clean up time. We clean a huge house and we get over the music. Denis puts it. And I hear it hurts at first, but then goes and becomes a pleasant habit so that when they are in crisis, headphones in ears, voice out loud and everything passes. All
. And now I'm
in the fifth epoch. That awareness, of the completion of a part of my puzzle. And he is still there, with his incredible voice, I close my eyes and think of you, thank you, Lucius.

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Mary and sleep

Almost two strangers.
ask me, never heal 'is what? Why can not I get a full night's sleep ever?! It's not that I suffer from insomnia, rather than live on a different time zone, like that of New York. Let me wake up early and kill me, will wander like a zombie all day, feeling her eyes lined with sandpaper, the limbs as heavy as a boulder, my only thought is: I WANT TO SLEEP AND JUST, I'm not breaking my balls. But then evening comes, and say, well, our heroine can rest.
NO!
Why then when I feel the darkness fall, wake up! Alarm as a lippa. I do not feel the slightest fatigue, are as strong as a lion, nothing can kill me and end up going to bed at 3 am the next day maybe when I wake up again at 7.
Yes, I know, I'm sick. What, I do not really know ..
And this was once again the leitmotif of my past week.
Fortunately they put me to work in the afternoon round, so the morning I got a bit 'of little things, blood tests, a gym, beautician. Thursday day off and I propose that the now beloved Lady Mara going to eat at a Japanese place on Thursday eat what you want and pay 20 euros, excluding drinks. It 's over we paid 45 euros apiece. I do not know how much alcohol is able to hold this girl is incredible. The fact is that while we ate swill that nectar of the gods, which for me is the Japanese food, we started to show off our worst childhood nightmares, along with heavy personal issues, which then led me to spend a night crammed travagliatissima sognacci of absurd and distressing. So, the first night game on. Friday I worked until midnight, I went home by bus replacement of 0:25 and when I got on with the Ipod in my ears as I had a feeling of deja vu, stuff that the last time I had made that gesture was meraviglierrima in Australia and this thing made me feel good scary . There's nothing to do, I'm trapped in this movement fever runny little body fat ..
Okay, anyway, the next day wake up relatively early for someone who has worked late with my grandson in my house all day. Regazzini that is exhausting. And the park, and games on the beds, and count to a thousand, and we pretend we do interviews and two cakes together, and so on and so forth.
the evening, dinner with Silvia, since we must know the amatrisciana me. I'm accompanied by one of the cakes made with Cristian and a bottle of wine my father made the home.
And after dinner, after amatrisciana, encore amatrisciana, butter, cake all washed down with a little wine, Silvia asks me if I want coffee. And there, apart from the crap: I tell you. I simply do not tolerate caffeine. After dinner we went out to a party crap, then we went to Frida, but it was already closed, we went back to her, with clamshell Slovenian honey and 3.30 am I get home. At 8.30 I had to get back to work. At 6 I was still awake. Photonic curses me from the mouth and every pore of my body yearned for sleep. In vain.
And so I spent a surreal Sunday, with a full Call unlikely to work because of two missing and a tarp to sleep on the eyes. I looked like a crazy hysterical, to keep me awake all I did was shit all day that counts.
not happy last night date movie. And I think we go to the first show? But it goes ..
choose what course of 22.40. Stupendous film, "The determination," he nailed to the chair and made me want an incredible adventure (usually not as if I had one already ..).
So to bed at half this morning and woke up at 7. On the train with his head hanging forward, sideways, backwards. Every time I opened my eyes to the girl in front of me looked at me so disgusted that I had to throw a glance threatening response.
And now, I took a valerian pastiglietta that you never know, and I put you to sleep, it should be ..
Tomorrow alarm too soon soon ..

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And as for traveling alone, fuck it, that's the way it has to be and that's the way it is

My name is Richard.

So what else do you need to know?

Stuff about my family or Where I'm From

None Of That Matters

Not oz you cross the ocean and cut yourself loose

looking for something more beautiful, something more exciting, something more dangerous.

So after 18 hours in the back of an airplane, three dumb movies, two plastic meals, 6 beers and absolutely no sleep

I finally touched down

in Bangkok

This is it, Bangkok, good time city, gate way to south East Asia, this is where the hungry come to feed.

So never refuse an invitation, never resist the unfamiliar, never fail to be polite and never upstay a welcome, just keep your mind open and suck in the experience, if it hurts, it's probably worth it.

The only downer is everyone's got the same idea, we all travel thousands of miles just to watch tv and check in to somewhere with all the comforts at home and you gotta ask yourself: "What is the point of that?"

And as for traveling alone, fuck it, that's the way it has to be and that's the way it is.

's monologue at the beginning of the movie " The Beach. "

I saw him one night while traveling alone along the Queensland coast, by bus from Rainbow Beach to Arlie Beach. I escaped from a meeting uncomfortable, what with the psychopath theory of global conspiracy and the day after I arrived at the hot hot.

Reviewing this film in that moment of my life was beautiful. Another

of a thousand moments we lived there that I'll never forget.
It has a thousand times why our Richard.
Traveling alone is the only way to do it. And if it hurts, probably worth it.
And so it was for me.
painful at times, makes you open all the wounds that you thought you have closed and makes you open as many hidden drawers inside with lies and fears and weaknesses. And you're wrong. But then when you saw it all, when you have been so bad, the whole world is at your feet.
And that's what I want to go do. I have a thousand plans in mind.
But I find myself in exactly this situation.
feel lost and scared in a place where I know nobody.
face rubbed in my reality, my inside, my soul, turn it around and then drop the whole world at my feet.
aaaaaaaaah.
'Night guys.

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Future and Freedom was founded in Italy. Before Convention

Milan, February 11, 2011, Freedom for future births and Italy.
born to the legality

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Luckily, there Simo. .

Fresh from two days with my Simie.
As usual, I leave him increasingly annammorata, injury, joyful and encourage all in a single, simple solution. After dinner Monday to
Rater, a beer and the other tells me that would like to do a similar experience to mine in Australia. So I do not understand anything, I'm a face that smiles 4859793285 teeth.

And I think of him scattered into the outback and I feel in me the joy of getting lost.

Yesterday, we spent all day together. On this occasion I put my stupendous red coat (a love that can not), came to take m'è Molino. At the station the train to pick up your subscription and mail to pay the fine for no parking for Sari (mannaja!).

And after lunch with the Be Floor, white furniture, mirrors everywhere, there is an outside solissimo entering through windows. I decided for a light lunch, salmon and vegetables. And we start with the existential conversations. Conversations in which each time brings out the best and worst of me, worse than that and few people know that no one makes me see. And he slams me in the face and it hurts so much that burst into tears like a jerk, while eating, with white decor, wooden floors, mirrors, the rays of the sun and the people around.

And I love him for that.
Because only those who can hold me so much can he think of me so bad to me so well, to get them to put me in front of a mirror that always covers with a black cloth. In order not to look inside, who the fuck is that she wants to look so deep inside?
And I love it because then, after the medical examination to renew a license (his real reason for return) leads me to eat ice cream as good in my life. From Grom. Grom cream, pistachio, hazelnut, cream and cocoa.
http://www.grom.it/ita/
And humming along of pleasure in every spoonful. In the car, parked on yellow lines of a road borghesissima, proletarian in a small car, to enjoy the wonder of ice cream and wonder of wildlife Neighbourhood borghesotti unlikely and unsuspecting rich men who walked dogs in Star Trek uniforms, or who smoke dressed in matching cigars with a case and act as a pimp.
And then we went to Pete to greet the newcomer Simon bimbone of 4 months with the almond-shaped eyes. And I made a good girl. After
, jumping to his house, m'inciprio nose and off to dinner on ships with others. And as usual part of the show. One of my grotesque and trash and that of our past together in high school. Until
I did not realize how much I enjoyed that day and that in a few hours we have to say goodbye. And I seize the Magone. And then in the car, out of my yard, I burst into tears like a calf scalped at the thought that I do not know when they'll see him again but instead is one of those people with whom I want and I should spend my free time. Silvia
And with him, I never see, but I have branded on my skin. And what a coincidence in the millionth of the trio of the wonders that we form, I will ring from London while he and I are in the car. And I can not even look into his eyes while I go down and I try to swallow the sudden, wrenching pain stupid.
How much life intense at times, as you tagging along and I remained like a lump in my throat and a river behind the eyes.
I love you, man.

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Well I know you're strong, May your journey be long

I just made a DVD with the music that has accompanied me to Australia for my Simie.
crossing from Barcelona that counts for a couple of days, I will cheer with his presence and with his eyes sbrilluccicosi.
I'm going to go out and go to meet him, I have butterflies in your stomach.
Love, love, loooooooove!
And I came across this.
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

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High Fidelity

Here comes another "review" of the book. My third book of the year. Bought in Australia and then in English edition supereconomica. This is my cover.

Except that when I started I've got into getting the card you sent Brandon m'aveva from Brisbane and one full day every two minutes I disconnected from reality and the mind to come back with those eyes dolcioso core and, to that body and its frighteningly sexy cazzonaggine. Nice jump back to the good time.
And together with the postcard I've got rambling Brandon found a map of the tables in the restaurant in Sorrento that the Board had made me when I went to work there the first time. Cuoricino.
close my parentheses.
The story that I copy from the back is:
Nick Hornby's High Fidelity is the brilliant story of one man's journey of self discovery. When Rob - in thirtyfive-year old record shop owner and music obsessive - is dumped by Laura burdens he indulges in casual sex, a little light stalking and Some soul-searching in the extreme form of Contacting Every ex-girlfriend who ever broke His heart . An instant classic, High Fidelity is a hilarious exploration of love, life, music and the modern evil.

So then, the book is well written, there are many funny lines and the reasoning of the narrator are often hilarious. Viewed from an objective point of view is a very good book and enjoy. From my subjective point of view however, I was often angry, Rob, the protagonist is un'emerito dickhead and all of its path of self-searching which is spoken in the plot, all his bad mood that follows him throughout the duration of the narrative, eventually implode the quiet life back to Laura and she does not slamming him to make his life better.
shit man.
Done and done.
One that I would never meet if not to get rich in the music.
But otherwise, ever.
Surely the writer has done a spectacular job if you could let me have this reaction.
So as far as voting, I asterrei because the reviews are mixed.

And now the moment of citations.

Even I know how difficult it is to resist someone who finds you irresistible.

Some people never got over the sixties, or the war, or the night their band supported Dr Feelgood at the Hope and Anchor, and spend the rest of their days walking backwards; I never really got over Charlie.

In a hostile and unpredictable world, we rely on each other to provide something to count on.

And I'm here, in this stupid little flat, on my own, and I'm thirty-five years old, and I own a tiny failing business, and my friends don't seem to be friends at all but people whose phone numbers I haven't lost.

Well, I'd like my life to be a Bruce Springsteen song. Just once.

It's no wonder we're all in Such a mess, is it? We're like Tom Hanks in Big. Little boys and girls trapped in adult bodies and forced to get on with it.

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and stress

Last week was one of my usual settimanine grotesque and tiring.
Monday I do not even remember what happened, probably nothing. Tuesday
are at work, quiet and peaceful Lady Mara comes to me and says, "Look, there's Sara, who is ill."
Ok, I jump, I pause and go up. His eyes are bloodshot and his face in pain, I look at it, can not do it. Ok, come on, come on, I'll take you home. Next to us are responsible for the call center. I tell him that I take away Sari, we ask both two-hour permit, fill out forms, take them, I drag myself up to down in the car. "So, we take the secondary roads that in theory I could not move." Ok, fine. Well.
we can get from her, I round the block to find parking, there is none, "Come on, come down here at the gate to leave the door open and then I go up, while I go park the car."
And I feel the whole Mother Teresa of Calcutta. I'm helping my friend who is ill. I am a superhero. So
parking, I get up and spend the evening with her. We shoot movies on film and distract us from evil. Step
the usual sleepless night because of Nini and Cyrus, the cats are still jumping on the bed, Cyrus even take the liberty to throw me in the face of the muzzle. And I can not do it, these cats make me laugh too.
So first sleepless night.
The next day, during the morning break I remember that I told Sari where I parked the car, so I call her, she's still in bed, with a voice from beyond the grave answer me and tell where the machine , where the serve and I answered: "Ah, well, where are the market this morning."
Occazzo.
Occazzo.
Occazzo.
"Ok, I'll see and let you know."
The recall after 10 minutes and from there my part merdoledì passion.
HAVE TAKEN AWAY THE CAR.
NO.
No, can not be, can not be such an idiot.
No.
It 's impossible.
facts. I brought my friend home and I have not said where I parked the car. This friend is going through a periodaccio from different points of view, molteplicissimi views. It is nice to add concerns to friends who are already ill. Especially because this concern in more cost to you of money.
No, not really that great.
So for the rest of the day I spend an entire phone recharge in a desperate attempt to find out where the hell they took the car and keep me company there was the delicious Italic bureaucracy.
Nothing, in the end we found it, but not could go to pick her up that night because there was no coupon dell'asiscurazione on the dashboard so you have to go to the insurance and then make a complaint to the police for the loss.
And that day has not really done anything. And I was also in
premestruo. I wanted to die.
So Scazzi that night. ABA
the morning alarm clock, direction central station and then Zion Schwizzera.
The day there is left smooth. On the train back together with the colleagues you down two liters of wine, one of my father, that fact down in the garage.
:)
get home at midnight, defeat. I can not sleep because of pressures proposals received during the evening. The next day
are off, but I still wake up early to go with Sari to get the car.
E today to take a fourth, to bring it to a mechanic in Island for review by the city police for reporting the coupon. And Sari is to eat at my house, spaghetti with purpetta mom and then her home in Milan and I running around shopping for my mother to take an exercise bike.
At 4 pm I'll jump into bed exhausted, an hour of sleep and then get my little cousin.
Ok, get up.
the evening, in overalls, with Sari'm going to see Alessandro Fiori Radio Popolare. Cute.
This is the song that made me almost cry.

I went in on purpose, this suit then I want to sneak home and sleep soundly. We get a beer with Mauro, from whose lips out one of the funniest stories I've ever heard in my life, stuff to remove stains from his face on the table with laughter ... Then
accompany the Frida Sari, telling her that I will not stop because I'm exhausted.
"Come on, there is the Cole."
Ok, I come to say goodbye to Cole.
And I'll take another beer.
and start playing a game of cards that I do not know how many times he sees a loser.
And they made two in the morning and we kicked out the club.
No.
z and I do not.
I'll jump into bed at dawn of 3 in the morning. At 7:25
alarm. You go to work.
I carry a book by, shawls, there is nothing to do, cool.
But no. Bring me back to the booth of the supervisor. Holy shit.
At one point, my notes I write in block capital letters: "Kill me."
and showed it to many people as possible, hoping that someone will accept my petition.
vain. Incredibly
when I leave work I recover, I feel Jessica, cinema program peaceful. Ceno
with two trousers and 'na bbirra. Even my grandson with us. Every day he asked me and my mother while kneading his pants, he showed me a lot of balls pizza dough, all for me.
Jessica Albo and he feels his own free will to decide we going to see "The speech of the King."
And let's go. Provo
jeans, but they're all incredibly close to me, and then slip into a skirt and go.
The film is incredible, he, Colin Firth crazy. After the cinema
a beer and here we go when we kicked out. At 4 am
collapse on the bed.
At 11 am a 4 year old child who usually love the madness begins to shout at me to get up in the ears.
I hated with my whole being.
And it's over on Sunday afternoon, I nailed to the bed.

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Joe, Joe and Joe forever! Memoirs of a Geisha

I wonder if I publicize it by dint of never married ..
If you click on this link you can listen to three songs from the new album of my new god of music and not only ...
Check it out!

http://soundcloud.com/joe-driscoll/sets/mixtape?utm_campaign=autoshare

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Which brings us to the second book of the year. I bought it a long time ago, in a fit of extreme consumerism of books, I kept it on the desk for the same, every time I looked at him and said to myself: "I start or not?" But then I went off on readings with more attractive. Now that I'm saving the h or finally picked up with the firm intention of reading it. This is the cover.

And this is the plot:

Surrounded by an aura of mystery, the geisha has always exercised an almost irresistible on Western. But who are these women? All questions that elicit these legendary figures, Arthur Golden has responded with a novel, deeply documented, retaining the immediacy and excitement of a true story. What does it mean to be a geisha so we learn from the voice of Sayuri that tells his story: childhood, kidnapping, training, discipline - all the events, background Giappne '900, have conduct to become the most famous geisha and sought after. A gripping and poignant novel of rare sensitivity and wealth, crowned by an extraordinary portrait of a woman and her unforgettable voice.

citation unfortunately I have not, but that does not mean that the book I liked it. Indeed.

The reasons why I liked it are different. First, the misfortunes of someone doing everything for themselves from a situation of social injustice or family, are always challenging and I like to watch the gradual slope of the unfortunate case. Obviously, I think this is something therapeutic, it helps you to understand that there are or were people who were actually worse off than you and at the same time, seeing them redeem themselves, it makes you hope that you too, somehow come better days. Trivial, but it works.

The other main reason why I liked it and the Japanese. The universe fascinates me beyond measure and Japanese lifestyle so different from ours sometimes makes me think that I actually like it because I see it as a fantasy story. And I am in the science fiction and fantasy, the unreal, in fact it as through water.

If we then put the look of love from premenstrual midst of a crisis, yes, the book is liked, but I admit that I have changed my life and opened new horizons philosophical ..

Ok, overall view of these things, I'd give it a good 6 to 7, much closer to 7, I think.

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'endorsement of this blog entry to the service under the pseudonym Paperblog ihaveadream81.

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Hey, Joe!

Ok, ok, I'm going to sleep, but first let me announce the release of the new album that dropped on the ground that God is Siori Ladies and Joe Driscoll.
I posted his video a few posts ago, in October, when I did Fraser know in my last Australian road trip, I can not help but listen at least once a day ...
I worship this man .. I asked her to marry me on facebook, she replied vague .. But not dermorderò!
So, I said, was released in December his third and new album.
you link the last video.

And this is the link of his site from which the ridiculous figure of $ 8 U.S., the equivalent of 6 euros, you can buy and then download the whole album ..
http://www.joedriscoll.net/
But remember, this guy is really a lot, he does it all!

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Miii that stress .. And hiding

was all day waiting to get home to cook. Olga's meatballs, the purpetta Olga, the fantastic and super vulgar dishwasher Greek restaurant in Sorrento, Australia.

get home and I feel like a smell of meat, cooked. I hear the fan oven which still flies.

questioningly looked at my mother and she, with her usual voice stritula: "Well, the meatballs I made you mine because I thought, and if you get tired from work and hungry?".

The little heart of many of you, would shake the majority of tenderness to hear that.

Instead I turned my dick.

Why 'ste fucking purpetta expecting them for months, second, because I thought about all day, coming home from the station, I thought to myself, then, let's see, the chopped onions to the mixer or by hand? There I put a lot? I do not remember, they knew a sacchissimo of onions or not? etc.., I needed an outlet to the feeling of claustrophobia that gives me 'the work in a closed place, I felt the need to put your hands in the dough. But

. The little voice

stritula.

All loving and caring.

And the thought of being treated like a baby stoned to the age of 30.

And the awareness that a few months ago I had no timetable, responsibility, doing what I wanted, what I wanted when I wanted without having to answer to anyone.

And maybe a hair of pre-crisis premenstrual announced, inter alia, by the desire of crazy crap. And I

Sbrocco.

I tried to hold me.

I went to the bathroom to wash my hands calm.

But then I did.

And I'm out of the bathroom and I told my mother that is overwhelming, that I've got 12 years, this morning I told her, do not worry, I make meatballs tonight when I get back from work, asked me what the fuck to do things if he does his own thing? and that is overwhelming, that I do not die of hunger and that is always thinking about food.

Emminchia.

I know, I could stop myself, but oh!

And I know, has been keeping me at my house and I should lower the ears and stay silent.

But oh!

I think I've reached the peak of cruelty when I said that I can not wait to go again.

Eh, oh!

's true.

I can not wait.

Today it was the first paycheck.

:)

My climbing the flight is shorter.

's all a bit' hazy at the moment, that is, know what and where I want to go, to be determined is when.

For good luck I say nothing, when I saw all spiffererò and airline tickets.

But okay, back to the evening.

I looked back in with green beans and boiled unseasoned I sprang from the ferocious teeth, had to do something.

And then we go to banana bread. The recipe of my cousin Claudia strophic.

There's only one banana, small pure and not so mature, but oh, be satisfied. I will try to reduce all the other ingredients, also because the mold that I have, last time I did that everything was in danger of overflowing. So let's start.

begin to gather the ingredients, roll out the chilled butter "cream" together with the sugar, an egg, do I close the door of the fridge and one of my usual athletic moves, I drop the egg on the ground. Fuck the Buddha.

I look at the egg for a split second, with the power of thought try to reassemble it for almost 3 seconds I am convinced that I see wrong and in fact he has not broken. Yes

's right. Then slam

eyelids, "Stop take the piss", I said a little voice inside my head.

And take the egg, sucks, cold, clammy, run everywhere. And take the cloth and clean and dry.

Ok, we're almost there. Take another egg, the hill gently on the shelf. Continue.

reach out my hand to take the yeast: THERE '.

with blasphemy under his breath I started to turn the belief. It 's impossible that there is, do you remember when we went all'Esselunga I got some sachets and in the meantime I have not done anything with yeast, where the hell is he?! No way, no.

But now the butter is already irrevocably sfratacchiato sugar. I can not postpone until tomorrow.

I look around stunned. My mother tries so a hint of comfort.

not even feel it.

desperate fury as I head to the phone and call the mother of Mario. What

as 99% of the cases I save with an ingredient from his belief.

Blessed mother of Mario.

As usual though, just go into that house, I'm a vomit of words. I think I do it every time so I can mirror and reflect one hundred thousand times at the entrance. The mirror makes me a cunt Hollywood scary.

Ok, ok, I'll be due to the dusty little treasure in your pocket. After half an hour kind of talk.

and banana bread was incomplete.

to vent all the adrenaline I've eaten in two minutes of two squares and a little nutty Novi 'bullets licorice covered in milk chocolate, made in Australia.

Eccheè!

But it was not enough.

I needed an outlet film.

And now, only Quentin can give me anti anxiety confirmations. Only the crazy and I loved Tarantino.

And I let myself be lulled by the notes and the fighting in Kill Bill. The first. Better the second. Tomorrow I'm going with the latter, it should be. And will I know that the entire filmography to menstruation.

I go shower, go ...

Can I Use A Hi8 Adapter

Dear, are still alive, but latito.
have already been two months since I returned to the Bel Paese and if I think this time the only thing that comes to mind to describe it is a ball form, and milky, inconsistent, soundproof.
's so that I feel, neither good nor bad, are a billion thoughts in contemporary'm on my own.
I think and think and think and think.
And then I remember.
I'm not wrong, no.
However, we have a lot on my own.
But I'm well on my own.
Slowly I'm opening from the space the surrounding world, but: a little 'me shit for fear of not being under inchiappetata just me around, a bit' I do not care a bit 'then you know you will share as if it were no longer here, a little' boh .
short, it is as if these two months there to turn over in bed, under layers and layers and layers of quilt, waiting for the temperatures to rise up that little would be enough to go out without freezing.
Pragmatically then, for those who see me are the same old cock, please, what has changed is my fundamental attitude and a bit 'my habits with regard to the social sphere.
summarize my last month or so of absence from the blog:
- I found Working in a call center site in Milan sad, end of contract the 31/01.
- I met my English potato just before Christmas and one evening I managed to perform in one of my usual shit pathological figures. There the story. So, I feel, and Silvia and we agree for the evening. The agreement provided that the finished work, come home, eat and then departed at a time of Settimo Milanese going to take it to his father's house and then go out for drinks. I've made to the address, but I was confident of my incredible and unwavering sense almost masculine orientation. And I did well, because we have come without hesitation or fear or loss. And before then there had been only another time in my life, like two years ago. So I was so proud of me, frighteningly so proud. So much so that Paul called me at the very moment in which to park and all I did during the phone call that autolodarmi endless. "Shit, but I'm too much of a pussy incredible teribbileeeeee !!!". So get out of the car and sound to the telephone, through the courtyard and within the building and exclaimed to myself: "Geez, I have not made the plan say! The plan I do not remember .. Okay, I go and read the names on the bells, from .. " And I go, no names on the first floor bells, according to the same and so on. I decide to call her and ask her to do is plan. Second. Ok, I go back down in the elevator because now I have lost count of the plans and I would not be wrong. Esco. Before my eyes landing with three doors. And mo 'what is it?! Try the first one, I open a guy in pajamas, watch it, no, not the father of Silvia, a young man, peeps next to him a woman. "Um, excuse me, Mr. Paolini knows where he lives?" and he shows me the apartment the other side. "Ah, ok, sorry, sorry for the trouble as" closed door. Around the heels, the sound from the apartment indicatomi pajamas with a woman at his side. I'm already a big grin at the thought that one behind that door there is Passeron my English which I love dearly. Sound. Moments of suspense e.. Men in suit. Unknown. Occazzo. My cell phone rang, she is. "But where the hell are you?" "Oh, Silvia, are on the second floor, where you are pretty, come out on the landing, shit!" "But I'm already on the landing!"
I had the wrong building.
Cocks me.
You know those new buildings with a single telephone and a single gate, but in type 2, 3, 5 buildings? There.
I was wrong building ..
incorrigibly self.
- I spent Christmas with my family, but since Christmas Eve dinner I started having severe stomach pain. Since the day before you eat fish that day was very slight, but the next day, with the help of lasagne, loin pork, pistachios, olives, artichokes, etc.. dark and evil has exploded in the afternoon of 25 I started my usual shock therapy consisting of liters of milk enzymes, antacids before meals, after meals Riopan gel.
Despite this, I could not lose weight.
- At St. Stephen but I met Simon, my Simie. We spent an afternoon in the living room of his retirement, both tanned as the processes for what was evidently an intestinal virus. Sitting on the couch me crap for my life, the fact that almost 30 years I find myself having to work at that shitty place and have no viable alternatives in terms of employment, despite being a cute girl and intelligent. I has spurred her on to try to change that with examples and practical advice and yes, I'm seriously thinking about, but now is not the career to be interested. He told me that since I have an undoubted natural talent for many things I could pick one thing between them and mettermici below. He's right, absolutely right. But to do that now I should stop, if not here, somewhere else, it is absolutely not stop what I want.
For now at least. With
Simie always I made a pizza out together with other people and we had fun. I love that guy.
- A new year, I was with Martha and Cynthia, my little friends in Dublin. We went to the party at the home of a childhood friend of Cynthia and we have found to pass the evening talking to our cocks, from there we went around two other friends from home and around I do not know what time we returned home, the historic home of Cynthia, the one in front of the building which I have worked for two years when she and I still do not know us and the same house where the Silvia now lives in Rome. Cases of life. After few hours of no sleep I got up and went home to make me lunch based imparrettati (typical Calabrian pasta made in house) as a special guest with an uncle in Ciccio hangover due to a bottle of anise, which had just drained from the night before. :)
Priceless.
- The first week of the year but I nearly passed with virtually all of Mario, in nearly license award with only two out of four children. After dinner I always went to her mother's house and one evening I made the famous flat indianeggiante with chicken, curry and pineapple. A bomb. Saturday afternoon then I went to Asti with her and I'm back in Padania capital on Sunday evening.
- This week has been rather exhausting.
I started a new training course for work and maintain vigilant attention for eight hours is tiring and difficult especially if you have not slept the night before for a Gazz.
last week by the Roman Silvia, to bed at 3.
Tuesday I went in the net of some space-time parallel universe and I went to bed around 2.
Wednesday dinner and movies with Gianluca and even there, to bed at 2.30.
Thursday at the home of Sara, we tossed in bed with a lot of good will to sleep, and also very early, at 21, but then the inevitable destiny that binds us (the sparacazzatesimo) kept us awake until I do not know what time; But when we are fallen, we thought the cats to keep us awake, suddenly jumping on the bed, purring, feline practicing strange rituals of allegiance and licking each other.
last night then, dinner with delusional cousin Teo tavern "At Large", in the old Baggio. I only say it started with me while gesturing I speak with a toast in his hand, PLOF! I slipped into the tomato half jug of wine: inattention that has forced us to drink wine oily with clear hints of oregano and pummarola .. Yes, I know, I have to get treatment, they are a public danger.
's over that one in the morning arrived the owner of the place that has almost driven away, giving me a sambuca (the second) and a clamshell Teo.
do not know if the mix wine and bruschetta is harmful, but this morning after 5 hours of sleep, lively type I woke up to a headache incredible that forced me to get up, just in time for my grandson in a warm welcome trip with his grandparents and just in time to overdo fatigue to play it all day. I also performed in a double session of doing the hairdressing comb him with the machine and putting curlers in my mother, with assistance from Cristian that made me incline curlers and toothpicks.
Then, again today after dinner I went to greet Mariarosa, another cousin fantasizing.
Well, that is, OVERDONE ARE SLEEPING, so now I'm going to brush your teeth and then I slam on the pillow to the bitter end ..
Night.

Bendroflumethiazidelansoprazole

PROVINCIAL FEDERATION UNDER NEW CATANIA: 2011. A year to live Forzanovista!

PROVINCIAL FEDERATION UNDER NEW CATANIA: 2011. A year to live Forzanovista! : "We have just closed a year that has laid bare, once again, the futility and ineptitude of a political class that has nothing to d. .."

Welcome Letter Wordings For Wedding

A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius

I decided to open a new kind of book in the blog: I'm passionate about reading as much and that often when I read, if I like what I read, publicized it at full blast, because Do not use the blog to publicize it end?!

And so this is the first book in a series, could be a starting point.

So, the plot, which I copy from the book is as follows:

It 's a cold winter one in which a middle class family in Chicago is overwhelmed, in a few months, with a dual unacceptable loss. So Dave, twenty-two, to find himself one day to another to act as father and mother to the little Toph's only eight years. The world awaits the two of them and have no intention of doing so wait: Dave sells the family home, gets in his car and goes along with the little brother to the California sun, turning a devastating event in the beginning a new life of freedom ...

Thus begins the tale imbued with tenderness, innocence, self-consciousness and disarming megalomania, the story of a twenty year old now struggling with baby-sitting, pre-cooked dinners, MTV, and the digital revolution. A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius is an unexpected and compelling book, but also and above all a fascinating exploration of new frontiers of contemporary literature.

Then, the plot here is a bit 'hasty and superficial. In fact the hero is a madman with a thousand compelling phobias and manias and in general the book is hilarious but not really "light".

I liked, I would be like a 7 rating.

And now a bit 'of citations.

To address this issue, the author is at pains to let you know:

a) What is a person like you.

b) That, as you fall asleep soon after they got drunk.

c) that occasionally have sex without a condom.

d) That sometimes falls asleep while you are having sex, drunk and without a condom.

e) That has never been available to their parents a decent funeral.

f) That has never finished university.

g) What you expect to die young.

h) That, for the fact that his father smoked, drank and died as a result, he is afraid of food.

i) who smiles when he sees young black men with children in their arms.

In a word: it is an attractive type!

At one point, the introduction is a table that describes the thread and sign what they gained from the publication of this book and says,

What then is really bad, come to think , and is still more than the author, who does not have pets, be able to spend. Accordingly, he intends to devote a part of you, or at least some of you. The first two hundred readers of this book write by demonstrating that you have read and absorbed the knowledge that it has to be given, the author will receive a check for $ 5 issued by a U.S. bank, probably the Chase Manhattan, which is not much of a bank - or rather apriteci not ever open an account. Now: how to prove that you actually bought and read the book? Let's do this: pick up the book that you are asked to buy - please attach receipt or copy thereof - and get to take a picture while reading the book or maybe they do use better. Special consideration will be given a) the presence in the picture of one or more children, since, as everyone knows, babies are cute, b) the inclusion in the photo of a child from the language exceptionally large and c) photo shot in exotic locations (always with the book, remember), d) to photos that portray the book when you're rubbing it on a red panda, mammal-looking half-way between a small bear and a raccoon, known also as the "lesser panda", a native of central China and who frequently rubs against things to mark territory.

I bring a book to training, imagining that exercises of a group of children between eight and ten years are quite boring. In truth they are exciting. He watches every movement, as we gather around the coach for instructions, I look at them like scratching the coglioncini real players, I look at them as they headed for the fountain to take a sip of water.

These things, details, stories and whatever, are like the skin of snakes which are stripped, leaving everyone to watch. What cares the Snake where his skin, who sees it? The leaves there where he made the changes. Hours, days or months later, we find the skin and discover something of the snake, so far as big, about what was long, but little else. We know where the snake now? What are you thinking? No. For all we know, the snake now could turn into fur, could sell pencils in Hanoi. That is no longer his skin, wore it because we grew up in, but then is dried and fell off the back, and he and everyone else can see it now.

And you'd be the serpent?

course. I am the snake. So, the snake should bring with them the skin, always keep it under your arm? Should he?

No?

No, certainly not! It has no arms, a snake! How the fuck does to carry around your skin? Please.

Dignity is a form of affectation, a charming but eccentric, like learning French or collecting scarves. And it is something incredibly volatile and mercurial. In addition to subjective. Which is why fuck.

park their campers and their vans out there, right on the recess that is to lick the bay, and then sit on folding chairs to chat about the brands of rope, kite convention, or how they can get better between my balls, maybe even as we try to do a launch, so as to make us angry for good.

me alone and I suck all the rage to say trivial, given that the reasons for living are certainly not explained well in a few minutes, sitting on the edge of a bed in a department of psychiatry, yet it seems intrigued by my words, which leads me to ask me more questions about him, about how a speech so molasses could convince him to live, because you insist on bringing me and himself so low without realizing how ridiculous we are both on the exactly has softened his brain, the exact moment when I lost, the reasons why I love him, because I care about someone so weak and whiny, and where the hell I parked the car.

The first issues of "Might" in the index and the publications contained false errata like this: "On page 111 of the book we wrongly stated that Jesus Christ was a sort of proto-hippies and dirty deviant. In fact, Christ was the son of God We apologize to our readers.

I would throw myself against the window, out into the garden club and run to jump into Lake Michigan. Or just go for two steps. But it's too cold. And I do not have proper shoes.

Seeking groped for ways to conserve heat. It is less cold standing buildings or moving? I think I know that you are the hottest if it moves, but for a minute game with the thought of being able to stand still and be able to adjust to taste my blood circulation.

was in those moments that you knew you had said something really funny, when he cried with laughter and wiping his eyes, then I'd won, and you enjoyed it, there was other company's largest or most important, more moving, and maybe try to give you a tone even pretending anything, but in reality you were gloating and proud to look at her, and imploring you wished you enough! Enough!, because you were so funny but instead you kept laughing because you wanted some more ', would laugh until we could have made more, half collapsed on the kitchen counter while you were sitting at the table after school. Oh you're awesome! he said. Stop it! But to see her laugh would have given anything, because she was also the guy who liked a good laugh at someone's shoulder, Bill, Beth, of your, his, and in those moments everything else disappeared, every time I had been afraid of her, every time I'd wanted to escape, all the times you had asked how he managed to live with him, to protect it, and all I wanted was just to laugh with you, as sometimes it was on the phone with the friends.