puntiniCAZpuntini

DeRank : 14,44 • DeAge™ : 7994 days

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  • Here since 21 october 2003
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This never read, I definitely didn't have at home because "Romano".

All those "Milanese" ones I read as a kid, I remember often having to reread them several times to understand what they meant exactly.

I especially remember that the first time I saw a comment by Sfascia, I thought of Gadda.
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Watched yesterday, I'm still confused and quite a bit.

At one point, Matt Damon, playing a rough Englishman from the 1300s, says to Han Solo's son: "because you know my friend, i'm broke." In 1300, in England, a rough guy says something like that.

20 seconds later they speak in a fake grandiloquent English from the late 1800s. After another 4/5 sentences in American. Then half Latin from the 1500s. Then back to English and then back to American.

Ridley Scott, Matt Damon, his friend who plays Batman, Han Solo's son. All people who should have balls of steel.

Left halfway through, I really didn’t get it.
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In summary: he ended up like Nas.
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The Big Day Out is seriously awesome.
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I didn't know him, musically he's great. If he also learns to rap (maybe he's doing it on purpose to miss the beats) he can join my favorites.
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It's a "band," they're called Silk Sonic (I see you know that). Remove the names of the members, or it won't connect. Besides, Paak with that dot in front is super annoying (yes, I know it really needs to be there), since he put it there just to mess up the internet databases.
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Just reading "grunge of those times," when their early records were practically Contemporary Norwegian Grunge alongside the American one and they had more flannel than any fabric store in Trondheim, sends shivers down your spine.

But then you read "the singer," and you understand that the reviewer is trying to offend. You could tell him that his mom is a whore, that he kills kittens, that he steals from his niece's piggy bank, that he beats his grandmother. But "singer," really, that's just cruel.
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The most beautiful Italian film of this year is ours. I can state this with absolute certainty, since it's the only Italian film I've seen in the last 3 years.

And then I'm certainly not biased, of course.
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<< children's names: William Robert Anfield, Alexandra Mary Anfield, Thomas James Dalglish, and Florence Victoria Shankly. >>

Damn Dalglish ahahahahaa
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Imagine Anfield, at home, what it all has.

There’s the father who leaves you records, and then there’s the one who, okay, calls you like a stadium (the other dude has a surname like a footballer, maybe Lineker or something)... BUT JUST IMAGINE WHAT HE’S LEFT HIM AS INHERITANCE.

Not records, but thousands of hours of unreleased stuff from everyone. EVERYONE.