A couple of nights ago, 'after dinner, ring the doorbell and Mariposa she had gone to open after a while' and I'm back ' - Get out there that your friend's insane!
Mom looks at me with a quizzical expression, spalluce I do and say - I think it Karrabusu ... er, that is, Peppe ... in short, the son of Zia Arremunda me '.
Esco and it is he, that the other side the way she smiles and raises a wink 6 pack of beer (in literature and film packs of beer are always 6).
Resigned I motioned to follow him in the garden behind the house and away from the prying eyes of Mom and Mariposa.
there are two jumps and is already next to me that vibrates vigorous pats on the back to show his affection but seriously endangering my lungs damaged by cigarettes. He smiles happily as a child slips into the tire while I was using as a swing when I was little that remained nostalgically still hanging from a branch of the large garden of olive trees.
He gives me a can of beer and it also opens I wait for a while if you start to talk.
Why so much I know, I know him well, we saw little during the summer and now is dying to tell me about his exploits. Yes, there are often messages but not the same thing. The stories there are decorated with bows in a text message, and decorated with bows as Karra is a true master.
So willingly I undergo the rite as much as possible and trying to take the air adsorbed interested me stories of his summer adventures.
lingers between disco nights, night swimming and booze during the day, passionate embraces seasonal and sometimes, I suspect, with seasons, until he reaches the last beer I am on my fourth cigarette.
Finite looks at me with his stories and shoots to question - what about you? As Thou hast done?
answer - as usual. Bored and trying to ward off depression.
And he - I made a stroll on B. Net and I saw that you're not writing for a long ...
And I - It 's true. You know lately I have been running a bit 'my balls. I am continually taken by the temptation to send them all to fuck off, one day and no one with 'anonymity is history ... I want to take from exhaustion!
Ride. Hunting is a belch so powerful that the protests in the neighborhood and everything - Sas barras ! by Mariposa which is able to hear even on TV in The Merchant Fair monopolize all his attention.
I look up to heaven in despair, resigned himself to another fight with my sister who definitely will hang up with - No 'fezzes Prus bintrare cussu procu in Dommo nosta !
The ruttatore instead, as usual, curled up with one hand the last can of beer, empty now and hangs up - I saw that your topic has reached over 10,000 visits to the Forum. It must be a kind of a record! In my opinion you should celebrate in some way ...
distracted with the reference - I am a little 'exhaust. As it says Vasco "I want to stay off ... I have the impression that all expect too much from me. Everyone wants something and no one cares about what I want. Lately I have then little incentive ...
My interlocutor ruttaiolo thoughtfully scratching the thick curly hair and then proceeds to do the same with her buttocks, which I suspect are just as hairy, before breaking out almost as struck on the road to Damascus - Take a ride on feissbuch! I saw a discussion on the bulletin Pol perhaps you might like ... I have dumped because it was too long and not realizing there was nothing left!
Before she can answer I hear the sound of a song where a woman's voice pleading in English a Alejandro not this go away. As I turn to the right and left to identify the origin see Karra with their cell phone in hand and I realize that that's where the music originates.
He meanwhile presses a button and the music stops. I see something that reads on the screen and smiles. A message! That was fucking music should sound message to the cell Karra!
- Bezz'e figada ringtone, ah? E 'in Gaga, I gave it a Venetian girl. Bologna.
This is too much! I can not resist - Pass the fucking ring ... but do not even know the geography! Bologna is part of Veneto ignorant!
- Veneto Veneto c'aveva or a large ass ... sin that has already broken down. Okay, 'I gotta go now anyway. Sgarro sent me a message waiting for me in the streets to make a quick trip to the Great Tower. He says there is a diggei that puts music in tittas in campu !
I do not have time to ask who the fuck is Sgarro that is already part of a great career and waving one of his huge hands is almost out of my sight.
remain there, like a jerk to set the pile of crushed cans that are the only trace of his having been there. To avoid the worst trouble I pick up and cast into the container, taking care not to make noise in order to avoid Mariposa ire of now does not expect more than an excuse to make me pay.
I open the garage door and by not even turn on the light. While the pool with their hands through the bike seat that I know is near the stairs leading up into the house and through touch that sign can not stumble on the steps.
Once at home I shut myself away in my room from the living room while there's the muffled sounds of television, tuned to some program for dementia.
breathed a sigh of relief to be able to pass safely to the guard post and turn the home PC.
load a playlist with the best Caparezza to rinse your ears and mind the horrible memory of ringtone karriana, after which I go on to read feissbuch as reported by my friend.
all begins with an exterior of Pol about his intention to run for mayor and those who discouraged.
I go on reading for a quarter of an hour, because it is true that long.
Apart from those who speak of himself and said part of his uninteresting life was not even the Mahatma Gandhi, he ran into a couple of fights letters.
One of eighteen with a name and an anonymous if they say that the most seasoned of all colors, both notched cheerfully from the explanations that good manners to gloss eighteen of which, thanks to his youth and a lot of time in front of you, send ideally fuck yourself and the environment of the type of shit Bonarcanto because both finished high school will go to college.
Godo like a hedgehog for the audacity of youth, yet I am sorry for those hopefuls and has the right to choose their future, but that these moonlight, more governments that are destroying the democratic welfare state, if it is already very manage to enter university and if they are lucky, once graduates work in a call center.
But the best fight is between two names. Two that are known and that almost everyone knows. Arrivano al punto che il titolare della bacheca in cui si accapigliano cancella la maggior parte dei loro post.
E su quella rissa mi viene il flash!
Dico... si stanno scannando perché si conoscono! Ognuno cerca i punti deboli nella vita reale dell'altro. Non si accapigliano per questioni ideologiche che prescindono dall'identità personale, non discutono sul diverso modo di vedere le cose, non apportano alla discussione niente di costruttivo anzi ne sono ormai totalmente fuori!
Sono come due pugili che arrivati all'ultimo round ormai sfiniti, lasciati da parte tecnica e stile cercano di vincere il match ricorrendo ai colpi bassi.
Ecco, I'm sure that if the two had begun their discussion behind a nickname, you would encounter on issues and ideas, but perhaps equally insulting without seeking insights into the personal life of each.
quest'illuminazione satisfied to have had that for my poor stomach has the effect of Malox, I give myself the last cigarette while looking out the window and inhale my cancerous Marlboro voluptuously soft face head at the sound of a car coming from the street.
Two seconds later I speed past driving a convertible with a rat-faced and next Karra that kicks in my direction. I look interdict the taillights of the car disappear around a bend While completing my butt and launch with a perfect curve in the road.
looked up at the starry sky and I think that after all it was not a wasted evening. I realized the importance of the use of nicknames but above all ... I saw who the fuck is Sgarro!
Waka Waka, Cumpa '!
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