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This matter of the cloud of ash that has knocked the air traffic has made me think about a kind of man who is shorting out the female population: the nebulous. The nebulous
is confused, uncertain, doubtful. Never responds to questions with clarity, does not take sides, does not know how she feels, does not know what to say. His intentions, his true feelings are a mystery. Wrapped, in fact, in a dense cloud of "boh".
For a woman hit a nebulous is a great misfortune. But not realize it until the end because the beginning is always the presumption that they have the key for that being "complicated and wonderful that no one has ever understood." After a period of time that varies from woman to woman, the only key is that everyone wants to English smash in the head and observe how they are organized nebuoloso those few neurons that live there.
Yes, because the nebulous may also appear attractive at first, but later, removing the layer of dust, you will find only other powder. Yet
around there are thousands that are reproduced as surrogates.
Of course I also had my good nebulous. When I went out with him, the moment in the stock market was essential. Our conversations touched peaks of absurdity unspeakable.
"Tomorrow we go to sea with the boys?"
"Hmmmm .. bah, if you like, I do not know, actually, I might, however, come on, if you want, I figured, I come to the limit, then we see, I do not know, maybe you go, then I see ... "
" I did not understand. Let's go or not? "
" Here, you, like all other women, always want a clear answer on everything for you is all white or black. You women do not know the gray. "
" Sure, it is the color of brain matter that you're missing. "

" Sorry, I know why I continue to present as your friend? "
" Well, I do not know I do not know what to say, we are also instill friends, and then ... but why do you ask? "
" Because I think we are at ABC. "
" ... I do not know, why fixate on the definitions, friend's cute anyway, what's wrong, but if you do not go well, maybe let's change it, I do not know, if you insist, I do not mind if I introduce myself as friend, but does not mean it can prove feelings for you, even though I'm not sure which, though short, it seems to me that you are well together, then you should understand what it means to be well ... "
" Correct me, we are not AI. "

To obvious reasons, the problems began almost immediately, and there the Moment is insufficient. One evening I experienced three glasses of sparkling wine on an empty stomach and I realized it worked.
But it's not that you may end for a drunken stoned.
So I said enough to painkillers, I took him for a pizza and my weapon of vacuum cleaner.
"Look, I'd be a bit 'tired of this relationship amorphous. Perhaps it's to clarify things "
The word" clarify "the nebulous has the effect of a pepper spray.
"CLARIFY?! Why? That is what that reason is, I do not know, tell me what you mean, I can even try, but do not know, I guarantee you, but come on, for you I try, I keep it, even if you do not really know ... "
- The Lords have chosen to get pizza?
"No, just a moment, please excuse us."
- Please Please take your time.
"I want understand how you feel for me and value from our relationship. "
said it may seem like a style a bit 'too Court of Nuremberg. I never dreamed of doing an interview like a normal person, but I decided to go down heavy. Or is it or nothing. And the split. The nebulous
rolled on itself and began to writhe like a python.
"What's the matter?"
"No is that to me these questions so I sweat, I'm not the type that ... I ... I ... That's it. I am a bit 'confused. "
I'm confused. There it is the first mark of nebulous. As if the confusion you take such a sudden heart attack and others should not make you shake. But I do not I let go.
"This is not an answer. You decide. "
" Well, well, it's simple, so out of hand, I do not know, you know not decide "
Meanwhile, the waiter buzzed around the block orders.
"In life you make choices."
"Well yes, I guess so, it's just that I have not decided the type, I can not choose .."
"If you know what you want, of course you know what to choose. Look inside, ask yourself what you want, answer to yourself and then ... "
Then the waiter came over and said discrete
" Excuse me, but if the lord just do not know what to choose, we also have great pasta dishes. "
... ... ... ... ...

In fact, the only decisions that night were a daisy, a carbonara and a kick in the ass.

Almost all my friends have run into a hazy. One in particular has my sympathy because he lived in the cloud for about eight years.
She eventually, exhausted, he asked
"I want to know if you love me."
pepper spray.
"I?"
"You, yes you. Who do you think you're talking about, with your coat?!? "
Given that the pitch exhausted from hysteria, is short.
"I ... I think ... that I do not know if we say that ... oh well ... ... I will respect you very much!"
"What the fuck do I care that I deem necessary? I want to know if you love me! "
" ... I do not know, I think that ... I'm confused. "
first mark.
"Are you confused since I know you, now you sconfondi and tell me if you love me or not. And be careful what you say because if I answer yes, we are getting married later this year. "
Drrrrrrrranghete.
"Oh ... oh ... well ... .. aucch Spich stump ... ... ... SPOF. Zac ... .."
Nebula shorted. But then ...
"I have a great idea! Let's take a pause for thought! "
on time, the second buoy nebulous. The pause, aka: the period during which the party seeking the break doing what they like, some are even children, and the sufferer is to set the phone day and night until your eyes are not asking for pity.
Usually when the woman asks the break, is the prelude of the end. When the man asks, why is another which has the hands and wants to have a good time without feeling guilty.
"Great idea a sledgehammer. During the last break you in going to reflect in Brazil. I want an answer now. Love me or not? "
" I, not I know ... "
" Do not you know? Ok. For me it's okay. For me not knowing it is tantamount to a no. You and me we're not together anymore. Now go away. "
" NO! WAIT! "
Another distinctive feature of nebulous: the terror of clear positions. Let it means making a decision, however, and in some ways out of the cloud. Bruised, but in light of the sun. And the hazy hates sunlight.
"Wait ... wait, what are these hasty decisions, piccicucci ..."
"Nothing piccicucci. O love me or not. Answer me! "
" I ... well ... here. WE ARE! I ... "
Tataaaaaaan
..." Me? "
"I .... I loved you. There. Of this I'm sure. Unfounded and that's something no? Yes, I have loved, period. Of this I am sure. "
And this unshakable certainty, especially useful for a future together, the curtain finally fell.

I think that a real social evil are nebulous. It is their fault if relations continue to exist for sterile years and then leaving before the important decisions are shipwrecked adrift poor girls stunned. Schools should be established in time of personal defense against the nebulous.
"If a man says to you - I do not know how I feel about you, but also because the feelings in a squalid jail definition? - Instead of doing nodded with a smile fool from the poet's muse, sferrategli a hook on the jaw, here, here where there is bone, and escape. "
Too many women still fall for it. And with their acquiescence worsen the danger of nebulous, which can pass the helpless helpless in up to eighty.
Recently I read in the newspapers of a similar problem: pigeons. These flying rats
scagazzano in our city doing very serious damage to buildings and monuments. They carry diseases, are dirty and stink. Yet there is an army of ignorant people who still feed them. For who knows, they were plump enough. A pigeon weighs more than Piazza San Marco of an Indian child.
The City of Milan, however, has been pretty good idea: to attract the pigeons in specific areas in which steal their eggs, so as to limit reproduction.
wonder that the strategy can be applied also to the nebulous: lure them all in a fenced area, to pay the plaintiffs that they lend themselves to pretend confused reports, is prohibited subject of children, and get that to a sweet, smooth, pain-free ... FIGHTING.

Stomach Bug Burping, Nausea

Love in the Time of Sip

If you are under twenty years probably does not even know what he's talking about. Who is the thirty
it should remember that once the SIP, the precursor of Telecom was the only way to communicate with him / her suitors, unless you want to use the Italian Post Office. But in this case it was necessary to consider that meanwhile the person concerned would also have been able to raise a family.
I am sure that cell phones and the Internet have influenced in some way on the reports. I do not know if good or bad, but certainly have streamlined procedures. At the time of my first romance was all the more daring. And I will not say the nostalgic "but also more romantic," because he was not at all. Someone may signal something more chilling, cavernous voice of the father of your boyfriend that you grunts on the phone "umpf, who wants it?".
Now we're used to the fact that the cells respond its owner, but was once a Russian roulette. Who will answer? The exhausted mother, brother or grandmother shit stoned? The fact is that this moron never answered.
Before you dial the number it would take a yoga exercise.
"Ok, on with the quiet. 758127. Oh. Brava. "
Tuuu - tuuuu
" See. There are only six harmless numbers, now I will go and see how he responds ... .. "
" PROOOOOOOONT '"
No! My grandmother ...
"Who speaks?"
"BB-good evening are a friend of Oswald, I can pass it?"
"The heading of the Emerald? No, no, I want nothing. "
" OSVALDO! His nephew .. "
" Emerald on the wheels? And robb'è? "
" Sir, I PASS OSVALDO !?!?!"
"Ah ... Osvaldo! Wait a minute. "
" Osvaldinoooooooo! Come phone, ready-grandmother. There is 'na Miss immoral that Allucci com' to that. "

But this is nothing. The landline was an endless source of bad figures for the recipient and the applicant.
summer my friend Julia hooked a handsome guy who called himself Myth. His real name no one asked it to him because "Myth" him exactly. He was very strong in all sports, was friendly and very popular. But the best of his specialties Giulia discovered it at the end of August to escape. Myth disappeared without leaving any message or mailing address, but she put on his trail as an English setter and eventually came to discover surname and winter residence, phone number, and then, of the fugitive.
Day X, X hours, Julia's house. The purpose of the mission: to send Myth fuck so as to reverse the position of my friend downloaded from unloading.
I was called as a support to military operations.
"Ok. We, are you ready? "
" Yes. Go "
Giulia dialed my dictation.
lacked only the to make the drum roll.
"AIUTOOOOO! SQUILLAAAA !!!!"
The handset flew through the air like a bomb.
"What are you doing ?!?!"
" I can not, you call it, then handed it to me. "
" Ok. But you're calm. "
" Yes. Go go! "
Recall and I answered a female voice adulthood. Certainly the mother.
"Hello?"
"Good evening, ma'am, there is Myth?"
"Who?"
"Mito M. .."
"I'm sorry, but there's nobody here who is so called, who you're looking for? "
" I. .. I seek a guy I met at a sea ... guy surfing .. "
" Aaah .. yes, my son, for a moment. Filomeeeeeeenooooo! A telefonoooo "

PHILOMENA!!

"PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"
before I could repress it, came out of my mouth the most glaring of laughter in raspberry, the worst of all, the ones that try to repress them, plus they explode without restraint, the situation irretrievably worse.
Mission failed: hang up.
When I finally managed to report to Julia the real name of his myth, I saw her limp a parachute as it touches the ground. I do not know if the shock of being with a Filomeno or the shame of having been dumped by a Filomeno. Maybe both. But really, Filo?! If you do not want to disclose uncomfortable information, you have to educate them a little better witnesses!

a thing today, with mobile phones would not have happened. It would never have occurred to the situations described below in order of increasing embarrassment, all really happened. Not all of me, luckily.

Driiiiin
"Hello?"
"Hello dear! I'm Anna! "
Hi! Anna Russo! The bitch that I blew the guy!
"What?"
A moment of silence a bit 'embarrassed.
"I ... I wanted to tell you that I graduate next Thursday, then I partied at my house. I would have much pleasure if you come too! We rarely see but I think dovremm ... "
" Cut Short, hyena ridens. You're asking me just to make me die of envy. You know how much I care about you and that demented obese? Go and killed both of them died. "
sbam.
"Who was on the phone?"
"No, Mom. An idiot. "
" Ah! See this morning called the daughter of Aunt Iole. He wanted to invite you to his graduation party. I never remember what it's called that blessed girl. "
" By chance ... Anna? "
" Anna, yes. Anna. "

Driiiiiin
"Hello?"
"Hello, I am Virginia
" Hello Virginia, how are you? "
" Bad, bad. I'm hurt. Nicola left me, came back from Rita. That bastard. But I am sure that he did so only because it is too pressed for food. You understand? He comes back from her, she stops to ask him money and he is happy. But that man is? Ah, but this time I pay, eh. Me BP-GA! I went to Rita and blurted it all. And you do not try to stop it! "
" No, but .. "
" No! Do not try to stop me because I listen to you so many times, I let it pass. This time I do not, please RE-FER-MA! "
" Do not I want you to stop, Virginia, but you step mom, maybe it's because you wanted to talk with her. "

Driiiiiiin
" Plonto who is he? "
" Hello! Francesco throw me please? "
" I Paolino tone. "
" Pauline Yes, hello, throw me Francis? "
" I did a poo. "
" Ah. "
" Do you do a poo? "
" Eh, well, yeah ... that nice ... Hand me your brother? "
" No. My shit stinks. Your smell? "
" Okay come on, call you later. "
" Checco is here "
" Well! Pass it to me please? "
" You say you do Plima poop stinks. "
" Eh .. eh .. Pauline Pauline Franceschino pass me! "
" No. Make that shit stinks. Dicilo "
Forget it, damn brat.
After ten minutes, "Plonto?"
But that nasty ...
"Paolino, sweetheart, still me, throw me Francis?"
"You're the one that makes the poop smell?"
"No, you're the one. Pass Checchino please "
" Checchino mine. You blutta. "
" I ugly? Why? But how, I love you so much! I'll bring you an egg Kinder? "
" No. Dicilo you do poop stinks. "
" Piccolino ... why not throw me Francis and then go to see the cartoons?
"Cattoni blutti and smell like you. Checco, thou away. "
cornutino little bastard, you win.
"DO THE HUNT THAT STINKS, happy?"
"Not particularly. But I guess it's normal. "
" Francesco .... "

And we want to make a gracious mention of those statues that you can still observe and photograph some street corner? The phone booths?
When the call was truly private and could not risk having your father scream behind "Attaccaaaa! Should I call the idraulicooo ", then killed the pig and take to the streets with pockets of five pounds each.
After listening to excerpts of absurd conversations of others, came his turn to perform nell'umiliante attempt to keep up a relationship at the same time feeding the monster ingoiamonete. In the middle of the conversation came on time the bus was left locked by the Fiat Uno in two rows. And down with the horn worthy of a cruise ship. Obviously the question was still pending, but the flow of money no.
"Sorry, you were saying?"
"No, I was wondering if you had to have a drink together to talk ..."
Peeeeeee! Peeeeeeee! Machicazzhalasciatstamachinquammiezzmannagg
... "What?"
"I said that maybe we could talk in person if you tell me what time ..."
Peeeeeeee! "Escusatemaquilacabinaèdituttivoistatedatreoreiodevochiamareamiofigliochestaavercelli .."
"Yes, yes only a moment's patience, madam,"
"What? But with whom are you speaking? "
" With a lady who to call, listen I'll see you tonight at nine o'clock ... "
" UEIOVADODIFRETTACHEMIOFIGLIOPOIESCEEQUANDOLOTROVOPIU '"
" Hello!?! I did not understand at nine what? "
Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
"See you at nine in the bar ..."
tlak.
... of course. End of currencies, end of story.
slaughtered a pig at all.


short, if there is some nostalgic regrets that the timing of the SIP, the reasons are twofold. Or was single, or calling Paul.

Cervical Stenosis Surgery

My wife on the day of our twenty-fifth anniversary

Among the most beautiful songs I really love Enrico Ruggeri My wife . I do not care whether it is biographical or not. I just hope the singer. There comes a point where you just stop and give thanks for the gift received, because it is true that marriage is etymologically the gift to the mother, it is also true that men, especially those of us receive a great gift of the conjugal union. For me it was so. I'm offended when, having published on the U.S. site my life in six words, anyone is allowed to leave a comment sour. My story is all here: youthful passion, deep love. Still married. A woman's hand, bitter and sour, comment: he slept around, or something like that. I could translate crudely: the betrayed right and left. The story is different.
I met Frank in 1980, I was 19 years, she 17. We were married in 1985, I was not yet 25 years and she did not reach 23. Andrea was born in 1986, Clara in 1988, Letizia in 1992. We have known good and bad luck. We compensate. I am the visionary, the real you. I open roads, the asphalt and she makes them safe. I drag, she consolidates. I dream, too, have her feet on the ground. We helped each other in many ways: I throw the challenge, she pays. It 's a cruel and sharp criticism of what I do and it is thanks to this quality that I have evolved from a little boy' nerd, very clumsy, a professional energetic and coherent. We have no discounts. This does not have an inch away, indeed united us more.
She followed me in every new adventure, I did do everything and he always said yes invent thousands of new professionalism. She grew up and helped me understand my mistakes. We are humble and love. We have built on faith and still pray together for our children, our dreams, for our concerns. I'm so in love that I can not live without her. We have, as they say, made a lot of miles together and we've been through a lot, and we have strengthened.

bleached together, of course, her much younger than me and more slowly, and we still look in the eyes discovering new things and difficult to make with words, especially those written written .. So who is still larger of the two and I know that's not me. I do not know if this is to do justice, but I know that every day I have to deserve the gift that God has given me: my wife.
I think our trick lies in the fact that we laugh together often and that I can make her laugh. So we look at life with a lucid and profound serenity. Really believe that, as St Paul said, omnia in bonum, all things work for good. and if we look at our life is really so. We had rough times, labor problems, difficult partners, economic difficulties.
She has invented a job, before he followed me, then next to that, he started his business, and today is a successful businesswoman and of course helps me.
And I have the honor of having to earn every day this huge gift.

Chances Of Another War

Sedicianni

And you think it is easy to be sixteen? No I say, have you ever faced the problem of having sixteen years now? And do not tell me that sixteen years I've had it too. It was a different world. Very simple. Mica had to fight with the technology, vol. At best, the hunger, like the third world, then I know that is a lie told to scare us and that, mica and fall for us. He had not even the phone. How do I know? Type you have with your time so stressed that I seem to us past another life. It is not mine. Mine is here. But as you understand it or not is hard to stay on top of the wave? Because if you're not there, you're nobody. And is not nobody here who is already dead. Better than it was even physically. Why are you in the tunnel. And you suffer. And if you do not suffer enough to make you think about the other suffer. But whether or not you understand how much care we put in to show us? That there is a limit each time: flashy, yes, but not a bitch. Why then the boys did not ask you that. Already leeches do not like thinking about other things, that if you hear them talk about the Simpsons seem to porno. Those who see movies on the internet that even dump them handfuls of chocolates and then you had them raccontanto that there is more than hear them vomiting. And if it seems it to him by not waiting, then there is more rest. It 's all a question of image. I understand that you do not think of anything else. And do not say that I have been busy. Not so, however: having sex in bathrooms or in the car or behind home, but hidden so no one sees you. What then if I see my mother, who cares, what could he mean? What she does in the end? As for excesses that I can hardly keep up! And you were not meant to compete with the mica you your mothers in those notorious seventies so we drove them come with Fonzi and the Beatles and other devilry which I do not remember anymore. I was not interested and I removed. As I usually do. I do not want a landfill in mind: what is not needed immediately is thrown away. So there's more space to think about how to have fun. Eh, you had to defend yourself from your parent as you touch it to me? That's when I force you to go shopping with her I see the men, everyone, even children, those who would do us the eye on and a little 'porn, watching her instead of me and her necklines and scosciature as if the world revolved around a walkway and the sidewalk was. What do I think he wants to destroy, to annihilate, to humble guy who only look at her and not me, who are still a sketch. And I, I made him on the other hand, that the lover that buzzes around, and she wallows even if it is almost closer to me than to her age, she went there I mica. Perhaps she, too, chemmifrega. But I as well. The night she gets her wait. And he did not notice anything. And I'm proud because this time I won. E mica I am sorry you know? What? To do what everyone does? What they are asking everyone? So all things pass, and even an hour goes by. Live the present. There. Everyone says so. Even the famous ones I see on TV and that makes me mad because I want to become so. And do not fatigue. What my mother does not do the hard work. My father has uprooted. That's when he left has bitten to the bone. Gnawed. Gnawed. And now we are rich. He is rich, too. While it lasts. She always says. But I do not want to struggle. You do not need. Does not do anyone. At school? Do not make me laugh! That there is always a way to copy, cheat, go. And you need to study? For the nerds? Like nerds and virgins, who are holed up in their culture and wither, in piles and broken them locked up because no one row, only one of them, that makes people laugh and do not oppress them even more because there is no taste, just when you're a bit 'down and you do not like either of nothing, then a joke, a couple of slaps, who never refuse, and you pull up immediately. That should not be unpacked or type thugs to do these things here. What are all the losers and if the waiting, you smile and if the waiting is part of the game, the hapless us their beautiful. The ones who like them, their blinds. And without crossing the line and finish in the bullies, those who do not like anyone, and are weak: they pretend to break the bank, but are corroded inside. You understand. They attack just because they can not look in the mirror. And they are so rough, dirty, shawls. We are neat and scianti: elegant. Beautiful faces, my grandmother would say soap and water. And I enjoy it because when he does not know, and could never know. Because as you watch her burn. And I do not want that fire.
But then I find this face malmostosa him always, even inside, as if I looked in a mirror inside, they tell me that when I get angry because they understand and do not want you to understand. And a little 'is merlin, is superior, but then end up too tell you that. Smile. And why? And who tells you it is an adult that I do not give a damn, while my ride do not you even say, you push the edges and then you eject, because the harsh lights, yes, but never sad. It 's a matter of image. What we always want to have fun. What else are we doing? That everything passes, but something remains, and it is always the less beautiful, more acidic, which scratches. And I fear that there is not enough makeup to cover it, because it is not around the eyes, but inside. And do a little 'trendy is frowning, but I have the impression that it is a type face that you put up for kennels or get noticed, but why do not you you can remove that which has the roots in, deep. Because when I look at the sea, there is the desire of sailing that I am, but that of drowning. And this is not nice. And in the evening. Like when I lose those minutes at the window to smoke to not soak the room, that I cheat too, but she hates that smell reminds her itch because my father is not the sky I see, nor the color, but a blanket stretched such as those that cover the dead from CSI autopsy. And I do not know why, but I do not like. And I can not look beyond tomorrow, and already I can hardly do not even know why I should do it. But a little 'hurt me.

Bow Laser Sight Review

The angel Gabriel

"Yes, Gabriel. I no longer remember. Noble name. And 'the angel who brought the announcement to Mary. One of the three archangels along with Raphael and Michael. The mother of the man made a monstrous mistake: or maybe he was being crushed by the weight of that name. sit Nomen omen : your name will be a good omen. It was a disaster, however. Everything about that person was thinking about the baseness: the meanness emanated from him as a deformation of the body that no suit ever be able to hide. Was it the light of the eyes or the way they constantly wringing her hands or whistle that, due to a particular form of acquired in childhood asthma in the swamps and malarial where he was born. He lived in perpetual conviction that the sacrifice of mankind: a kind of god intended victim of a cynical and sarcastic that he had chosen as a scapegoat. And he did not deny anyone his contempt. It was postal clerk in a mountain village in the heart of Abruzzo, where I lived for a time. I found there to use while deciding what to do with my life. Committed by a grocer. In order to survive. Gabriel came to buy cheese and salami. Slipped into the shop, a large room dark and dusty, when the shadows became more dense. I could feel her hoarse whistle before I see her face. "Firmin," he said, "Firmino, the usual." And he added immediately: "today luck black. You know how many parcels are shipped in this country of fools? More than goats! It seems that every animal has relatives all over the world ... And that's never send? Heavy packages, as sins. It touches me to take them all: from the door to the basket, the basket on the door, the door to the van. I've got I'm not too old, Firmino. You see how I am? Secco. And they laugh at me. The packages will ship only to make me sweat. I know, I know. Do not shake your head. I see them in the face when they are there with those boulders. They face red, swollen, dirty. Have you ever seen how dirty? All! The pharmacist, who does so much the gentleman. But he too is dirty. And do not say hello to me when I walk past his shop and he is there, the door to smoke. What? You can not live without medicine? I, his medication, and do not ever buy! Mai, Fermin you understand? I with the herbs I care. And then I do not care because they are never sick and always there is nothing that can help me. Mail instead: How can you live without that? How they would send their parcels to those without e-mail? Damn them and their parcels! Firmino, you gave me the tasty cheese?

Eh, Firmino. If you were not there in this country ... you had to invent. Blessed be the day you arrived. About Firmino, where are you from? You told me, but I do not remember. I never sent for packets you! Thanks Firmino. I hate the parcel myself. "I said nothing. It was the only defense. But the silence may be judged, if you really want. Then they dragged out of the shop and stood on the threshold and those beady little eyes-yes, gleaming like the skin of an eel-radiography of the square. A wretch, I tell you. He had accompanied his wife to the cemetery was a white envelope. He had it sent! Or so they said. Not that the beat: even though the reality is I can not rule it out. It was his poison of hatred that ran his every move. A soul of those who hold the list of damages. Rancour, who had the courage to vent, it's multiplied in as a virus. And then overflowed. He was witty: there was no sentence that does not contain a rotten aftertaste. If you said "good evening", accompanied him with a menacing tone deaf, and with a gesture of the head sideways, like he was twisting on itself to attack, to fashion a rattlesnake, and you seemed to say, "that is your last night. " His wife was slowly evaporated, it was made clear: consumption, like a candle. Until we had nothing left and had gone out, white on gray diffuse sheets. "Wronged me," cried Gabriel, 'made me wrong even dying. He left me alone: \u200b\u200band as I do now with the house and a daughter to marry? ". The daughter was married and alone in a big hurry, just after the death of his mother. Had run away, I say. Believe me I know how you can escape. Perhaps he had made nonsense before the wedding to get rid of the father: the terror that had killed herself. "Shameless! The first person that happened to throw!" Commented Gabriel, "what a man can be that? A sales representative: of women's underwear. Mascalzone! Like the fact she's eye candy here, who knows how many women ... worse than a sailor. This should not have let me just Cristina. I am ruined. In the country say it all: a useless girl, light. And that? will make you suffer. Ah, but I'm a good father, I. I relocating from them when I finish to send parcels. And then I fix it all. I know I have my responsibilities. And I will put all right. "He must have communicated his intentions to this child, because neither she nor her husband became more see the village and say no more to write home also changed his father, for fear of having it fall on me suddenly. I was still young then. listened to him. A grim soul so I have not met. But I still doubt that the fault was not his own. Who knows, an injury suffered in his youth, perhaps asthma experienced as an undeserved punishment. If anyone had been listening to him since then ... Sometimes I seemed to see the breath differently: as a prisoner who tried spirit to force the lock and get out. Backlit seemed excited to see on his face and another man who wanted to get rid crying. It seemed that the features themselves stretch for any hint blurred, most mild. A second. Maybe even less. Then he returned that look fractured and bad. I do not know what has happened to. After a few years I went from that country. I had come to boredom that sun that poured tired lazy '.

Plastic Outdoor Santa Claus

The drum Compatibility

With the first warmth of spring reappeared the nightmare of pounds.
peep in the windows of pharmacies slimming products on TV are beginning to see the usual nonsense weight loss along the paths appear in the marathon on Sunday. All this got me back to mind a former emplare.
are usually women who are obsessed with their weight.
I have clearly caught the exception.
Personally I never put my belly on top of intolerable physical defects in a man. Much worse on a number 37 feet tall and 80 1. Or the glabrous skin, white cheese oozed type.
So much I did not notice the extra weight of this sample. But he thought me know about them out there: what for me was not a problem for him was a tragedy. I learned that he had never been a figure, but just before he was operated on to know that I do not know. What had brought a drastic weight loss. Recovered from the operation was found with the body dry and had always wanted. Gasatissimo for the unexpected Lapel, former barrel had changed his attitude and wardrobe: the belt is expanded clasped and self-esteem. He had bought a new bike, he had made a new circle of friends, had started attending the gym and local fashion and had a tattoo done as well: a little pink on the biceps.
But the romance lasted little with the scale. The cruel nature had taken revenge on quell'alzata riaffibbiato crest and had lost all the pounds with interest. The
tight T-shirts now stopped the navel, and her mother had made all the pieces to dust. The gym was replaced with a restaurant and a band of drums and showgirls with old childhood friends, classmates bespectacled and balding.
of the golden age only had the bike, not used because there were more local celebrities to be achieved, and the rose on his arm, which now looked like a cabbage.
I met him at this stage to return to the past.
We always went to the restaurant and he ate like a brontosaurus. But I always spoke to what was in form six months before I try again and continually showed the photos of that period. A real little photo book. And then I realized that he had never resigned.
Undaunted, he continued to make purchases for two sizes of less. The orders they looked a bit 'puzzled, a little' pitiful.
"For when dimagrirò."
"Yes, yes, of course."
One day, the restaurant, pulled out a pack of Kilocal.
"He says that work."
"says? Who?
"Television"
"Oh, and then ..." After
pasticcone swallowed, the poor taste of the first ordered three and four seconds.
"Television clearly says that you can eat everything. See? Even the packaging is the figure of a platter of spaghetti and a chicken. "
course, the pounds had increased and the former emplare increasingly distraught air of a beached whale.
a long period I noticed a strange light in his eyes as well as a slight drop in weight and a certain pallor.
"This to me is hiding something."
That night he would not go to a restaurant but in a lounge bar, (which is named so because the bill is always very long to digest). And just ordered an expensive bottle of champagne.
"Celebrating something?"
And maybe eat something, because I've got a hole in my stomach ...

"Mmm ... no, I just want a good French champagne."
"Ah, how nice. Have you eaten?"
"I? Well, yes spiluccato little something home."
Ok, I jump into the deli next door, throw down a couple of bun and then returned do is clown.

"I'm going to buy cigarettes for a moment."
"But you do, do you smoke?"
"I? Well .. no ... I just want a good American Philip Morris."
As I left I realized that the whale swallowing a pill secretly.
I went back to the table, searched him and found that it was a drug appetite, in other words, an anorectic.
"I know, I know, the leaflet is a bit 'dramatic, but I swear that is an exaggeration. It is the only thing really effective. Me are made to arrive from Switzerland. However it is not cause for alarm. It is a natural herbal medicine and has no side effects, no contraindications, for I am beniiissiiiiii .... "
sbam. The whale sank to the ground unconscious.

Luckily the lounge are sighted and are paid first.

the emergency room the dying man escaped with a gastric lavage and a great figure of shit with the doctor on duty who asked sarcastically: "Dr, but fear of the test tenevate costume?"

After that scare, the trippone decided to get serious about diet. Slavishly followed the instructions of the dietitian. Was very precise with the quantities. A coffee and a fruit in the morning. 50 grams of pasta for lunch. A slice of white meat with vegetables in the evening. One tablespoon of oil per day. Not overdriven one iota.
The three horns, the four pizzas, sausages seven and three chocolate bars a day So what? What he had written to the dietician to eat, eat it.
So why the damn scale marked the same weight and even more?

After a month of this "diet" it came to pure paranoia.
"Say that I am fat, tell!"
"But no, you're not from fat, are robust
" No, tell me, so I was mortified, and then I put on a diet. "
" Ok, you are fat. "
"Really?"
"Yes. You're fat. "
" Oh God ... oh God ... you think I'm fat! I kill myself. "
" I had to mortify, not suicide. "
" And why did you tell me I'm fat? "
" I said you're fat? When ever! You're just tough! "
" No. Tell me that are fat. Tell me so I was mortified and I start a diet. "
And so on until exhaustion.

After some time, the ex-emplare began to operate on the fringes of obesity. And he became paranoid schizophrenia. An Easter
watched him while eating a giant chocolate bunny, and did this piece after piece polished speech: "I read an interesting article - gnamgnam - according to recent research it seems that the sugars are primarily responsible for weight gain - gnamgnam - In practice, those who do not eat sweets all the rest can eat peacefully without fear of getting fat-gnamgnam-this is great news for me because I am not a glutton - I prefer the salty-gnamgnam - gnamgnam - sweets, cakes, chocolate, keep it well, do not go below - gnamgnam - especially the chocolate then, strangely I have never made a fool - gnamgnam - "I did not call
Neuro because I had exhausted the credit of the phone.

the sea seemed to be in the company of a woman with her period. Shorts, towels bath around the waist, shirts, vests, and a thousand other tricks to cover up. And hysterical leaks in the water when swimming, after which a furtive glance to make sure that nobody looks at him and away ...! Sull'asciugamano smeared on his stomach.

I'd had enough. The stress of the situation at the end had a slimming effect. But on the wrong person. Me
Every time someone would say "Are you lost weight, you're great!" I could hear the sea lion that gnashed teeth angrily.
"You lose weight do it on purpose, to spite me."
"Now that I think we do, indeed it is true. Why do not you come well Overall you're down, so I lunge to spite me a little '? "
" ARE LOW!? "

In fact I am so sorry that took so bad. Rather than encourage him to lose weight, encouraged her to accept it for what it was. But there was no way. More in despair, the more you spread out like a gondola. As big as nervous as a truck and a Yorkie.

Once in Rome, we had a walk along the Tiber, and I did the usual impassioned lesson on the benefits of taking care of yourself: "... know what I mean? If you 'bout also bundled with forty degrees, if I started to accept your body, and I did not think more than change it, you'd be better psychologically, and stop to eat the shells of mussels ... "
Suddenly a guy with an Ape went past us, slowed down a little and shouted" beautify! BUT DO EC CO 'STA MIXER? ". Then he reared up and drove off. That's right, soaring with the Bee.
"But you see that rude idiot who crashed into a pole."
"The fact you have winked."
, "I am?"
"Yes, he stopped and said that because thou hast made the 'winking from afar. "

All right self-esteem, and that's fine star good about themselves, and fits the physical and psychological discomfort, and fits the conditioning imposed on us by the current models, and fits the need to strike a balance between inner well-being and social needs, and it's fine that man belly man of substance , and it's fine that the body is only the envelope of the soul ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... BUT I DO WE CO 'STA MIXER !?!?!?!

Carduri Noi Pe Poptropica

An endless wire

" Dad, let all and away we go, Dad, and let everything go away "They're like wearing a warm sweater these words of a gentle song Vecchioni, and every time that I encounter in my thoughts axle emotion wet, a melancholy that floats on face before dropping slightly to the heart where it stops for long, leaving traces in the eye. Not because I feel the desire to have run away. Quite the contrary. Since escaping from here would be the escape of the deserter and not the prisoner, or even less than the hero, I know that I can not even think about it. And 'I feel strongly this deprivation, this remoteness, this absence.

I feel I have lost too many times the opportunity to tighten, to embrace, as I do now with my son, and like me then, he now escapes because it is not by men, not you, not: the tragic illusion that dissolves only when it is too late or when you're down you ' other part of that embrace that you can not tighten.

I would like to embrace now. There is no more. It burns. And yes I have been privileged to hold his hand to my father as he died, sitting in that chair that I still have, like if you look closely, I would not ever sit on, could shorten a distance and did not already exist, since we superimpose the dimension of the spirit. Yet I miss her. More than my mother? Not know, maybe yes, if it is never possible to give a measure of a cut, a wound that has completely cut off the roots. I am now the root, the rhizome that goes down deep into this. Nothing around me, no more. Only offspring. And this burden, to feel the weight of this responsibility upon every day when I stand on the threshold of the evening, to think, to tell me words that I always find it more difficult and inspiration, and in this you are burning and thinning thick.

And I feel that I have shared this feeling with him, told me the day of the funeral of his mother, sitting at the table while we waited for it all made early-odd word to begin a ceremony makes a sacred purpose, and yet not, because actually it is a new beginning. He stood with head bowed, shuffled slowly coffee that his sister had offered, and you could see who was suffering with dignity. Jumped up his face, looked at me and told me he was not so many words, that he had never confided in me, he listened, he knew how to listen, he knew how to love me, he knew how to discern between the avalanche My words of those to be retained, estranedole not a treasure, but a pile of garbage, he jumped up his face and said, "Now I'm here at the base of the tree. There's nobody behind me. " Then he was silent. It was not sad. Do not despair. If anything pierced. Inspired respect. Exuded wealth. And I inherited this gift and I wonder from where to draw the line that goes down into the folds of time to find a first, among my ancestors, I've got this light and we have thus given an inheritance to all the descendants to me (and I hope to deserve the privilege of being able to pass on to my children).

rummaging through his papers I found this old photo: I do not belong to him because that is in it tells of an even earlier to his. Who knows maybe belongs to my grandfather or his grandfather: conservation because it overlaps with the words of that song: a desire to leave to return, not to abandon, but to rediscover. Put in a suitcase to take away, but to select, prune and cut what you do not need to keep him, stuck like a sweat suit. I can imagine this ancestor, to contemplate the suitcase on the bed to accumulate cards and garments, and sat down to look out the window, before deciding what to take with him. Why not running away, if anything arrives. But it is a treasure that is examining, is a suitcase containing her life. Who knows maybe it's just stepped off a boat, or has moved. Or you are looking at. What is send a clear reliability, the ability to look within and to assess ironic mercy with the same look that should apply to everyone, but we end up only keep for themselves, and, moreover, softened by complacency.

And what I think my great-grandfather accumulates as the images that we carry, here and suck the life when you least expect it and if you're always ready to lay down your thoughts to turn hearts and minds. I felt such a sense of fatherhood long after I became a father, not because I had no conscience, but because I had not penetrated the wood. One evening in Jerusalem that is also a line of Vecchioni-down through the Jewish quarter, I saw a child throw himself out of his home run to meet a man crying, "Abba, abba" and then hug him. And there all melted, it has clotted, and then he stretched out in a new light: everything took effect and depth. And I thought about my father.

childhood you still think of broken images, but vivid sharp edges, imprecise. I remember a game that we were promising in the spring of Milan: we sat on the balcony of the kitchen, looked at the road that could be glimpsed between the buildings, and I bet you guess from which direction it was coming the next car. Today, that same road, if I could go to see it from the balcony, penetrating the walls of the houses in the meantime have obscured vision, would see blocked by a queue with no end in any direction at any time of day.

And I'm here now, in silence, watching the sunset, mundane situation as a writer of the second row, and yet so everyday to take if the peels remove the patina of familiarity that makes it sloppy and dull, a value on . See and hear the sounds of the city calm and mild, like the surf and, before returning to my home, I turn out the song that I sang in my head still Vecchioni