Yesterday was Halloween.
A terrible mess. Throughout the day they continued to shoot the barrels. Well, as long as needed to hunt the bad luck and evil spirits is just fine.
To celebrate I made for my English friends a spaghetti as close as possible to what can be a spaghetti Italian doc ... Irish ingredients permitting. It was edible, for me. While they seemed to eat ... oh, well ... who knows what is sad to think that we are well known in the culinary scorched but actually no alien, or very few of them really know how to eat Italian.
I just found out that the internet cafe where I usually do not change the password for wireless connection and leaves the open all day (and night) ... gh! Ergo? Connection 24h/24h free until you make it to be so generous or stupid.
Now, for example, are sitting on the stairs of the landing in front of a house and Volume Volume ... heck heck, I write the diary as I browse to latch.
This is to be a retaliation, since I'm almost certain that the USB memory stick that I have inadvertently left them disappeared after a few minutes the clerk in your pocket ... just in time to remember and 100 meters and was gone ... and the place was almost empty ... oh ... and the only one who actually knew about the memory stick was made ... oh, well ... Anyway, mine is a steal ... is a compensation. Let me be clear. More and more of a preventive war is not it? And then the Indians do not have the atomic bomb? I have to be better informed ...
Last night we carried away by a madman, I think it is French, in a pub near the hostel. It was me, the three Spaniards with whom I had dinner and this mad, furious in fact, desperately trying to communicate with everyone, in every way.
You know the movie where there is a pedophile maniac who makes faces at children to McDonald's, and then brings them closer to the camera focuses on the first page of the newspaper and the title reads "KIDNAPPED AND RAPED CHILD. SEARCH THE MONSTER IS. " Here, the same. In fact, while there was growing I kept joking, not so, with my English friend (which of course never remember the name) "You left your phone on? You know that will kill us all right? You know that I will pay some strange white powder in the beer, then we will tear us apart and sell at the Saturday market is not it? ".
said. The fast-food sucks. As a concept, as the political exploitation of resources and as a product. But ... but we must make a distinction. The McDonald's. The McDonald's sucks and that's it. Wherever you are, Turin, Rome, Dublin will always be disgusted by what I eat. After of course, because before, when you're hungry, the two golden arches seem gates of paradise ... After you take taste on the tongue as if I had a lick of the cat litter.
Burger King, a little more acceptable, almost the idea of \u200b\u200bsomething made with care and love. Attention. Seems. This does not mean that it is, I could begin a long and boring monologue on the substantial difference between perceived reality and reality ... but that would make me conceited and obnoxious ... and undermine my plans to conquer the universe ... better to continue with the coverage the village idiot who discovered that you can make ridiculous even on-line. This means, I said, maybe the joke is better served in an acceptable manner.
the end ... "Prefer to die at the stake or drowned?".
"A plate of pasta through."
'Patience Mirko. This was a long weekend, the offices are overworked and you know us Irish ... we take it calmly "Ok
. I'm quiet. I am confident. Besides, what am I to complain? I come from Italy, not by the Teutonic, which I expected!
posture typical drunkard at the bar.
1) the chair is at a distance of a forearm counter.
2) The head, in an inexplicable from a chiropractic standpoint, it is perpendicular to the pint that is observed with melancholy resignation. The pint is in the middle of the bar, so the distance is a butt-head dell'astante forearm and a half. If the golden section serves me must be lying ... it is not.
3) An arm, usually one with which you do not write, is supported in its entirety at the bar, parallel to it and is ideally divided in two by the pint.
4) The other hand, a fist, is the prop on the knee or on the counter itself, depending on the rate of blood alcohol.
Try to do it drunk and will be a very natural position. The only one that seems to support the body in a manner acceptable to the world and still not enough to begin to whirl. Do it from your sober and after a while muscles and your bones howl of pain.
Well ... they say that some booze lead to altered states of consciousness and knowledge. Knowledge is power, power is energy, energy is mass, mass distorts space. Ergo ... according to special relativity certain states of intoxication would lead to a curvature of space-time and allow the drunk to occupy a space in a sober reality would not be employable. Magic of science. Mental masturbations of a wretch who expects the friends he has never met. Next
neighbor. They are the fourth and still do not see anyone. There was a meeting of those forums www.altrairlanda.it . The appointment was at 8. It is eight and a half and you do not see anyone. There's only one guy in the corner watching me and smiling at me.
A terrible mess. Throughout the day they continued to shoot the barrels. Well, as long as needed to hunt the bad luck and evil spirits is just fine.
To celebrate I made for my English friends a spaghetti as close as possible to what can be a spaghetti Italian doc ... Irish ingredients permitting. It was edible, for me. While they seemed to eat ... oh, well ... who knows what is sad to think that we are well known in the culinary scorched but actually no alien, or very few of them really know how to eat Italian.
I just found out that the internet cafe where I usually do not change the password for wireless connection and leaves the open all day (and night) ... gh! Ergo? Connection 24h/24h free until you make it to be so generous or stupid.
Now, for example, are sitting on the stairs of the landing in front of a house and Volume Volume ... heck heck, I write the diary as I browse to latch.
This is to be a retaliation, since I'm almost certain that the USB memory stick that I have inadvertently left them disappeared after a few minutes the clerk in your pocket ... just in time to remember and 100 meters and was gone ... and the place was almost empty ... oh ... and the only one who actually knew about the memory stick was made ... oh, well ... Anyway, mine is a steal ... is a compensation. Let me be clear. More and more of a preventive war is not it? And then the Indians do not have the atomic bomb? I have to be better informed ...
Last night we carried away by a madman, I think it is French, in a pub near the hostel. It was me, the three Spaniards with whom I had dinner and this mad, furious in fact, desperately trying to communicate with everyone, in every way.
You know the movie where there is a pedophile maniac who makes faces at children to McDonald's, and then brings them closer to the camera focuses on the first page of the newspaper and the title reads "KIDNAPPED AND RAPED CHILD. SEARCH THE MONSTER IS. " Here, the same. In fact, while there was growing I kept joking, not so, with my English friend (which of course never remember the name) "You left your phone on? You know that will kill us all right? You know that I will pay some strange white powder in the beer, then we will tear us apart and sell at the Saturday market is not it? ".
said. The fast-food sucks. As a concept, as the political exploitation of resources and as a product. But ... but we must make a distinction. The McDonald's. The McDonald's sucks and that's it. Wherever you are, Turin, Rome, Dublin will always be disgusted by what I eat. After of course, because before, when you're hungry, the two golden arches seem gates of paradise ... After you take taste on the tongue as if I had a lick of the cat litter.
Burger King, a little more acceptable, almost the idea of \u200b\u200bsomething made with care and love. Attention. Seems. This does not mean that it is, I could begin a long and boring monologue on the substantial difference between perceived reality and reality ... but that would make me conceited and obnoxious ... and undermine my plans to conquer the universe ... better to continue with the coverage the village idiot who discovered that you can make ridiculous even on-line. This means, I said, maybe the joke is better served in an acceptable manner.
the end ... "Prefer to die at the stake or drowned?".
"A plate of pasta through."
'Patience Mirko. This was a long weekend, the offices are overworked and you know us Irish ... we take it calmly "Ok
. I'm quiet. I am confident. Besides, what am I to complain? I come from Italy, not by the Teutonic, which I expected!
posture typical drunkard at the bar.
1) the chair is at a distance of a forearm counter.
2) The head, in an inexplicable from a chiropractic standpoint, it is perpendicular to the pint that is observed with melancholy resignation. The pint is in the middle of the bar, so the distance is a butt-head dell'astante forearm and a half. If the golden section serves me must be lying ... it is not.
3) An arm, usually one with which you do not write, is supported in its entirety at the bar, parallel to it and is ideally divided in two by the pint.
4) The other hand, a fist, is the prop on the knee or on the counter itself, depending on the rate of blood alcohol.
Try to do it drunk and will be a very natural position. The only one that seems to support the body in a manner acceptable to the world and still not enough to begin to whirl. Do it from your sober and after a while muscles and your bones howl of pain.
Well ... they say that some booze lead to altered states of consciousness and knowledge. Knowledge is power, power is energy, energy is mass, mass distorts space. Ergo ... according to special relativity certain states of intoxication would lead to a curvature of space-time and allow the drunk to occupy a space in a sober reality would not be employable. Magic of science. Mental masturbations of a wretch who expects the friends he has never met. Next
neighbor. They are the fourth and still do not see anyone. There was a meeting of those forums www.altrairlanda.it . The appointment was at 8. It is eight and a half and you do not see anyone. There's only one guy in the corner watching me and smiling at me.
things are three.
's one of them and shame like me to make the first move and then winked at me hoping that I smuova I (and aspects CICC).
It 'a vampire who has chosen me as a hearty dinner and I nod as I wink at a Florentine steak.
E 'gay.
What do I do? I do not dare to attack button because the odds are against me ... I can find a friend, to become the next dinner, a creature of the night or create a diplomatic incident with the gay community in Dublin ... as this would risk slow down my search for a job ... a job ... you know ... it takes ass.
There is also another guy who has just arrived sitting behind me ... I have yet to figure out if he is Italian or a student of the Taliban Islamic school in Kabul ... follow the strategy of the House of Savoy. Smiling at all, expect the first move, and then stay with the strongest.
What a lovely evening. The boys are very nice irlandiani. I remember a few names but the evening was fantastic. Just for the record, the vampire was Italian and the Taliban was none other than the famous O'Connor.
What do I do? I do not dare to attack button because the odds are against me ... I can find a friend, to become the next dinner, a creature of the night or create a diplomatic incident with the gay community in Dublin ... as this would risk slow down my search for a job ... a job ... you know ... it takes ass.
There is also another guy who has just arrived sitting behind me ... I have yet to figure out if he is Italian or a student of the Taliban Islamic school in Kabul ... follow the strategy of the House of Savoy. Smiling at all, expect the first move, and then stay with the strongest.
What a lovely evening. The boys are very nice irlandiani. I remember a few names but the evening was fantastic. Just for the record, the vampire was Italian and the Taliban was none other than the famous O'Connor.
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