marpado

An elderly man in the midst of a panic attack: he looks at his ID and realizes he has reached that stage in life where truly every day could be the last. An elderly man, but also a pompous buffoon in a frenzy to spread his message, to leave his legacy, his best and idealized image of himself, before kicking the bucket. Too bad the message is the usual syrupy drivel about consumerism, the mafia, a bad society, and the usual nonsense, seasoned with atrocious gaffes (like the portrayal of women) that only reveal his intellectual and cultural shallowness and the bitter sad truth, perhaps the most evident among those that emerged with "Adrian": Celentano is old, he is outdated, he is now out of time, if he ever had one. An old man with old ideas, so self-referential that he doesn't even realize he is out of place. If he hadn’t been so self-celebratory and full of himself, he would have easily noticed that that image of women is NO longer acceptable TODAY. At least that. He doesn’t, because he is Celentano, limited and closed-minded as he is, who, at best, is still tethered to the 1950s. Worse than him are only those goats who idolize him; well, they too will soon be kicking the bucket...

Someone said that this one has the shape of a parking attendant...

I was just a baby at the time of the event, and clearly, I don’t remember anything. Later, as a kid and then as a teenager, reading about this story, I suddenly had the explanation for why as children (all throughout the '80s), neither I nor my brother could even get close to a countryside well without being overwhelmed by the frantic screams of parents, uncles, grandparents, and whoever else. Screams of real terror, alive and genuine terror, an unmistakable sign of the lingering impact of that indelible trauma and the deep groove carved into the consciousness of anyone who was sentient in 1981.

And in any case, to be fair, the true architect of total football was the legend Rinus Michels, even though he was hammered by Milan in the final of '69. Kovacs merely reaped the rewards of his work.

Come on, this year get through the round, at least the round of 16: Chelsea is really falling apart, without Essien they're missing half their midfield and they might have to play a youth player in defense, since so many are injured, in addition to suffering from a general moment of dullness and physical decline. Inter, on the other hand, proved the other night, aided by a Samp that was objectively awful (it should be noted), to be a very strong team in excellent mental and physical condition. If you don’t get through now, you’ll never get through.

Ajax and its total football the last revolution? Well, I think you forgot a certain Arrigo Sacchi. Panolada for the reviewer.

More than a toilet flush, it looks like a sheet of cling film agitated with forced burps.

Curious these new generations: they are incapable of writing, and I’m not talking about novels but at least sequences of coherent sentences that express their thoughts (this is probably because at school they spend their time making little films, insulting the teachers, and breaking furniture, I don’t know), but if you point it out, they also get angry. I mean, they are like goats and the blame is almost ours. Porcodd1o Bethzrem or whatever the hell your name is, I didn’t write like this even in first grade, aren’t you ashamed? And you even dare to insult?

My God. I remember that back then, the previews in magazines featured photos: GT was never a "photogenic type," so they wrote, "mmmh, the game looks a bit ugly graphically... but they say it’s nice"… and then the growing buzz around Gran Turismo, in the vast crowd of CD burners, everyone started talking about it. When my brother and I finally got our hands on it, we opened our eyes and mouths wide and looked at each other… the masterpiece of simulation racing games, which until then, I remember, had only been the domain of PCs. I went back to watch the intro on YouTube, and tears came down. Also because I miss my brother.

I share the call for porn, since it's already done, they’ve even got the title for the first film ready: "Swallow Life."