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Monday morning, my day off, I get up with laziness, shower, coffee and relax. I go to the Boards of routine and escape through the entrance of the urban (the great condominium of polo mints already mentioned) I see it. my limbs petrify fearful. are days that I ignored, but at this point I have to. I slowly approached the mailbox, I lean a bit ', I raise a finger to the bulkhead metal spring and look inside.

dick, I knew.
recommended.

yes, in 2010, the Web 2.0 era who you can write something in the mail? excluding advertising just someone who wants something from you: agencies miscellaneous bills, police station or brigade to fines if not worse for communications ...
Oh well, expect it, I knew. never mind I tell myself.

But to look good is not the usual registered mail. NO! is Defendini. hysterical privatization and outsourcing of contracts for any costs the town has been awarded the management of communications, a private agency. I had five days to go and collect it at their headquarters which is obviously not such as e-Zone 2 steps from my house but is located in San Salvario. known to me is not too far away, but if you live on the other side of town should I lose 2 hours to withdraw it. but so, because my absenteeism unbiased in the task of viewing the mailbox now 5 days have passed. I will come another report soon.

ok, I'll wait impatiently.

Monday following the same scene. but this time the mail is recommended . I go to the post office, waiting for my turn and diligently with the package recommended withdrawal of another fantastic package that will allow me to withdraw my coveted ticket in Bellezia way, every day from 8 to 12. What a joy. Bellezia street is located in the historic center, in the middle of the ZTL (a circular perimeter that is prohibited from 7 am until 10.30 am) and in the pedestrian area.

I do My compliments to someone for this incredible shit, I do not know to whom, unfortunately. I think it takes a degree in bureaucracy to do this process to a simple fine, but it takes a real brain for evil to withdraw all notices in local storage in a single office to a city of one million inhabitants and for this task among the dozens of municipal buildings in the center to pick one, inside the ZTL and the center of the city's largest pedestrian

I also fear that if I asked what information the various branches of the department responsible for this far-sighted choice no one would know me a definite answer ...

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Day in pink! DIY Tattoo

E 'all day around the house looking for something pink ... nothing ...

the pink t-shirt is to iron ... I ran out of pink balloons ... the pink sweatshirts are all home to mother ... all pink socks and underwear to wash.

Well, I have not found anything ... luckily she was at work!

The pink meatball!

I also take part at the last minute at the beginning of MammaFelice , here.

Today, like every day, We should remind us how important we are as women, as individuals, we must remember and love each of prevention, costs very little and helps much!

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ivan


here it is my hero. this man, let's face it, is great. at least it's a great communicator. First I have to be his grateful thanks to him because journalists, columnists and commentators have pitted bar any pearls of rare stupidity - like "it's a shame that the fans have not been searched Serbs!" with its tone outraged - our hero, alone, held in check an entire stage, that testadicazzo of chestnuts, the security service, police, UEFA, journalists, sponsors, television, commercials and millions of Italians stuck to tivvù. but what he did to deserve all this attention?

practically nothing

Come on, do not be so shocked. be in no doubt we have seen
ivan the terrible acts of violence take? we saw no
ivan the terrible armed? we saw no
ivan the terrible flood the field? we saw no
ivan the terrible throw blunt objects? we saw no
Ivan the Terrible hitting someone?

no more than he burned a flag. In fact, among the charges that will have to answer for any crime not included violence to people and look good even if property damage is minimal.

ivan, ignorant as a goat and ape with his physique, he simply climbed the glass wall and a pair of clippers with a tiny cut the network of canvas placed on protection. Then he sat down and started the show. posed for pictures, sent fuck everything and everyone, he incited his fellow patriots (Serbian intellectuals ...), all screamed and done uh uh uh ... paramilitary clothing, magliettona with the skull, all but tattooed with the face covered by an elegant hood, a true gem of style, worn not for anonymity but for the scene.

fantastic

the representation itself dell'ultras-guerrilla-extremist stereotype perfectly, ready for the journalistic service to the TV for the bar. the whole show, just like They want to viewers. ivan, at least before the cameras did not make at the end of violence, has "only" featured a style, let's face it, commendable. leaving the dirty work to his followers. and so, while the elegant employee UEFA argued with some big shot with his iphone in midfield Serbs gave wonderful examples of all forms of hostilities on live TV.

that these animals Serbs. what the hell they want. people is where it comes from. should lock them up like animals. I really hope that the police minister to him for good. for those there, the prison never eh! are the usual guarantees. eccheccazzo I want to see me the game on TV. I was ready, I was already a foretaste of the editing table, comments. and then on, the stadium is full of children, a good example! just do not know what it means to be civil, where we will end ....

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jelly


summer of 2006, Sardinia. And was there for a few days of sea, undecided on holidays had arrived in Costa Smeralda with the idea of \u200b\u200bbeing host in turn by several friends who spent the summer there. the period of Zen was still hidden in the future and enjoyed And, unaware, than would have been riots the last of his youthful impetuosity. was in fact a separate holiday , far enough away from frequenting local socialite and life that characterizes this stretch of coast. evenings spent chatting with friends old and new, evenings on the beach or simply in the garden, grilling fish. days at the beach, swimming in creeks, to drive through the streets an old Citroen Mehari ...

the last two days were spent by A , also unaware of the changes that would soon be overwhelmed. was there with her boyfriend and friends. would soon be discharged, it moved to Rome and was married with L, known right there on the beach. but at the moment A was still thinking about the costumes and the billabong shirts carhartt, to go on the table and try to surf in the winter and summer. And joined them on the beach with friends and mutual friends, all of turin, all hosted by A .

Towards the late afternoon when the sun ceased to be incandescent, E pulled from his wallet a small gelatin square, thin as a postage stamp, and about 2 mm from the side, and without being noticed if they put half in my mouth. This immediately broke up. waited about 40 minutes, just to see how his body responds, then he took the remainder. knew that in mid-afternoon under the blazing sun was not a good time, but now, with light winds, the sea front, the warm air and above all, a sunset that would not have kept you waiting, the situation seemed ideal. And had never taken an acid, even though he had a good experience and psychotropic substances. there was also some evening fun to do the cock of a different kind of exciting seasoned, but was more interested in the experience itself, the change of reality and his own conscience: every now and then he went on the Turin hills or mountains to make long dissertations with fungi, plants of power as he called Castaneda (Castaneda and just as it turned out much more effective on the uselessness ...)

began to feel the sand under him. began to roll among the small dunes of the beach. Put your arms, legs grind, now hours prone on his back. was a new feeling, comfortable, felt every single warm grain in contact with her skin had become now more intense. looked at the sky and was lost in the clouds and their golden spiral, continuously coiled swirl flaps are flimsy, dispersed and reassembled in front of him intersect with the blue of the sky. was aware that he was watching games sense of his brain, but he thought that in fact the clouds were not clear boundaries and defined as ever imagine, but which are ambiguous and constantly exchange with the atmosphere are in constant flux.
now felt at ease in new condition and emerged a sexually violent movement. strange, different from the desires that he felt normal, away from the aesthetic which was usually attracted. now a girl wanted robust, strong legs and stubby, like a housewife in the country. not persuasive theories of curves and mischievous smile, aspired now to a concrete physical, devoid of eroticism but somehow more real. smiled at these thoughts, images to woo a woman farmer in the cornfields ... stood up and dived into the sea to cool the boiling of body and fantasies, careful not to stray too far from shore. was to revel in the bathroom dry while the blue in the sky slowly lost intensity to being overwhelmed by soft pink glow, gradually more and more alive, until the flaming red sunset.

with friends across the bay, indomitable and indifferent vegetation behind the beach, then headed back home where all and took a shower in the garden and lay in a meadow full of flowers wrapped dall'asciugamano. acid rose and fell with long cycles, sometimes it was light, now eagerly pounding temples. was out of touch.

the time came for dinner, and avoided with an excuse to sit at the table, he lay down on a deck chair and nibbled figs. in reality he had never liked, but now that intense pulp, reddish and lush attracted him. from that position, as if it were invisible, quietly remarked that the party dined on the porch, waiting patiently for the slow return to lucidity.

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gray

photos courtesy of enrica

those who live in turin knows. There are those days when you enter into intimacy with the streets, roads, the rain. many identify this feeling with a color: gray turin . is a term used frequently here. Tuscany has given to generations of painters endless varieties of ocher colors, variety of land identified for these sites. turin not Tuscany. is the home of Fiat, the workers' quarters, and some of juvarra. here is the peculiar gray color of the sky property imprisoned by the Alps, a gray rainy, slow. no, the city is no longer the sexy late-summer not you watch it with a wink, do not be seduced. is indifferent, melancholy, mechanics. the flat light has now been dark, dark, yet rich contrasts, seems set in a perpetual twilight evening, as if it were independent from the flow of the usual time of day.
and I could turn for hours in the car, driving in traffic in the rain becomes more chaotic, clumsy. through the long avenues holed up among the big trees showing off their latest green, even if they are dark, before giving way to autumn impressionistic nuances and it soon turned into a difficult balance between the yellow and red, purple and orange, poised between the past summer and next winter bare. drive along the city streets, letting the large windows on the residential blocks of the 70 fruit of speculation. Mirafiori, Sao Paulo, cited turin, then go for it all away romolis reis, surrounded by the last remaining industrial buildings within the municipal boundaries, the final step to Falchera and go back through the Milano, the long-dora, port building. walking down the city streets, in doorways, then coming out into the streets to enjoy the scenic persistent rain, light and thin.

on days turin gray the center ceases to be architecture, becomes just the backdrop for the urban side of town. the street lights, traffic lights glowing, the cobwebs spun by steel cables and electric tram network, signage, lights of cars, signs of bars and shops, public transport stops shelters ... these elements, usually intangible, marginal, now assume the roles of the protagonists of the townscape. no longer the hill, the river, the baroque discrete and the Alps in the background. on days turin gray the city is lost in its recesses, in uniformly wet cobblestones, in the tails of the point on the overpass above the railway.

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Metafilm



here, spend Sunday afternoon locked up at home has its advantages. like to see steady yet another Tarkovsky film. stalker seen at the end of August and beginning of the saga, and until I see them all I will not rest. I chose
nostalghia. I open the package, I put the DVD into your PC and start watching. there is something that escapes me, had to be a writer's journey in Italy but here the guy is a director. hmmm. yes, yes, they are not polished, but something I did not come back. almost like a film that tells the story of the film that you should run. a Metafilm. retroactive to tie a loop in my brain. a Metafilm speaking of himself and of the cinema of the author.

ok, here, in the box there were TWO DVD, ONLY who had not written anywhere, I have seen time travel instead of nostalgia ...

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ATTACK!



except for a nap. that ass. a handsome man like him, upright, never tamed, never bent ... it is the personality charismatic as Belpietro that bother them. and so they have to kill him. bastards. insurgents. TERRORISTS. here it is terrorism, here they are, the fanatics! a man, a murderess, disguised as a financier! but the mica Belpietro you eh! Fortunately her agent instead of stock to go up with him in the elevator this time took the stairs to surprise the attacker possessed the landing. the latter pulled out his gun to shoot him in the head, but ... is jammed. obvious. then the killer cleverly passed the policeman down the stairs and escaped. the man in the Commons, however, is a tough cookie, followed him and fired three shots. I lack the smear was taken. fuck, you're a cop, shoot few meters 3 rounds, and not even a leg, an arm, say, a tuft of hair ... Then the bomber, despite the frantic manhunt, and manages to disappear ...
here, the fact is that I do not believe, and I think that few people believe it. but then maybe it is not yet another staging of this state of puppeteers but it really happened. skipped the motivations and the moral evaluation of a similar gesture, I dwell on why none or very few believe this shit could be crazy but likely: will mica for the lies we tell for 40 years?

pasolini p2 p3 ... pn +1 pn Spampinato Matteo De Mauro Andreotti Cossiga nar mixed dark Pecorelli the church Pinelli bald Calabrian mafia berlusconi fioravanti Ambrosoli tedoldi ior gari bohemian totaro Marcinkus Naldini Nutarelli Alps Falcone Borsellino ox Kissinger strategy of tension telecom cia terrorist Abu Omar television services diverted piero Bruno Stefano Costanzo Recchioni gelli patience and again and again and again and who knows how long ...