omahaceleb

I didn't know anything about the bad fate of SDO. So next time I'll have to ship the boxes of taralli baresi with Bartolini or GLS.

A disc that's very out of focus, from a guitarist who has nothing to say, neither on his own nor with his buddies. I think the only thing in common between me and Frusciante is the wrist tendonitis.

Horrible cover like Bonnie Tyler.

But above all, we are interested in knowing at the level of annals whether it was released before or after the crash of the Twin Towers.

In my childhood memories, I still see Dad's Tex comics stacked on the bathroom cabinet, ready to be read during the afternoon “cacatone.” Then came the colitis, the times shortened, and I needed readings that were more concise and suitable for the available time. And that's how I met Ungaretti and hermeticism. Try saying "Mi illumino di immenso" just before the final effort and you'll touch the sky with a finger. Word of omahaceleb.

Oh guys, I'm writing this and then I'm going to start working, and we'll talk about it tonight. I don't know if you're mad at me or someone else, anyway... No hard feelings, it's obvious that we're joking. However, the review is a crazy load of crap. I don't know about you, but by the fourth or fifth reference to the precipice (please approach the precipice), it naturally makes me want to tell whoever is saying it to go take a hike. Then, oh well, patience, this review didn't turn out well, the next one will be better for them. No one is going to die, it's nothing serious, no new Leopardi has been belittled. When I comment on Debaser, do I have to play social worker to someone? No, I'm not required to. And the recipient isn't obliged to take my words seriously. It would be better if the reviewer played along with us, taking themselves less seriously, instead of pricking their pride because we didn't appreciate their moral opera.

After having read it all, I can say this: let’s hope the reviewer really gets close to the edge. And that they decide to practice their triple Axel on the brink of the crater of an Icelandic volcano.

You fools had to be

You can call them if you want: cojones

Good reception. Back in 2010, I tried to listen to their albums during a concert in my area. All of this was for a project of a fling/love affair with a girl, unfortunately left in the drafts folder. That's it, that was the only contact between me and them. At the concert, Bianconi in particular looked like he was shitting himself from fear.