puntiniCAZpuntini

Has a shoulder ever slipped out of place for you? Come on... if you still haven't experienced it, you have a unique opportunity to try it out on offer, don't let it slip away, grab on the fly what Gisas Craist is sending you attached to an unparalleled stroke of luck... come on, carpe diem mauretto, the stars... are smiling at you. (in fact, they're having quite a good laugh, you know the good laugh, right?)

Bark, bark, bark... bark. Phone numbers? Addresses out of town? Appointments? A concrete invitation to discuss? For goodness' sake... at least an email? What? ah here you are bum bum:... bark, bark... bark. Wait wait... how how? ah... no, that was another bark. And I notice you're also stupid, you keep talking about breaking faces, about little broken noses, about haia haia aka "oh that hurts"... you really have no idea what I mean, well, good for you that you're steering the conversation away, some things are always better seen in movies and read in the viùùùlenzha books you read after school, before cartoons. Come on, now you really intrigue me, if you’re real like you say there must be an interstellar appeal in seeing your face. Come on, give me your email come on... at least the email, how can you possibly think in your desolate little head that I would travel 1200 km to get there and maybe (maybe huh, not sure) you won’t even be there. Look, I’m serious, come on bark bark, send me an email, then we'll figure out the user profile at Debaser's expense, for the photo we can recycle that one from the physiotherapy membership... aaahhh (sigh à la "good old days", I guess I have to explain everything to you), the good times of swollen faces and broken noses, those were indeed easier times, now the world is so mean and cruel... lucky you that you’re still stuck on blood from little noses... ahhh (another sigh as above NDR)

Well... it depends, Nick: if you’re going for a serious date, bring a friend and dress up as porters ;)

Wait, but Via Giolitti ... corner with?

Come on Mauretto, come on... woof.

Mauro, when we fight can I play "Eye of the Tiger" by "Survivor"? Come on, I know that song gets you pumped up, it’s so Ivan Drago, don’t you think? Or would you prefer a more fitting "Bum Bum è un cagnolino simpatico & carino dal pelo bianco bianco è un cucciolo mai stanco si con gli amici veri scontrosi ma sinceri inizia un'avventura per chi no ha paura... bum bum buuuum... buuuuum bum buuuuum... nell'avventura... sicuro tu vaaaaiii"... how sweet you are, Mauretto, come on, give me a Bau like you know how to do, it will sweeten my afternoon with honey, come on.

Oh no, sorry, now I understand what you want to do, I'll come by car, pop the hood and take out a 2m x 1m sign that says "looking for Mauro the lost puppy"... then you arrive, and after a nice feast of Chappy just like I make it because I loveyou, we’ll go and punch each other on the nose, then when our faces are all swollen we’ll go to your mom's who makes us Nutella sandwiches... okay, I'm in, see you Saturday at 8:00 PM on Via Giolitti, me with the sign, and you with your friend the homeless guy. / Ah... Mauro, why don't you say it to the faces of the Maghreb pushers "f***ing n***er"? ... you know, they usually carry a knife, but you don’t care, with your Everlast gloves and the short cut shirt to show off your big abs Big Gimme... well, it’s obvious.

Seh Seh ... sing sing ... bark little brat. I told you, if you want we’ll do it the right way, you scruffy little mutt who minds his own business, you’re out of touch with reality, you’re still thinking about broken noses and swollen cheeks, you still haven't understood what I mean. Well, when you grow up, come back around here, if I’m still around, I’ll be happy to fulfill your wishes. Little brat, small & insignificant. Bark all you want, but actions speak louder than words, and I see nothing concrete, silly. You’re not a boxer because a boxer would have accepted, you’re not a fascist because you say things that go against right-wing ideals, you’re not even twenty and it shows in the way you write. There are plenty of sixteen-year-olds looking to make noise out there, maybe on another site you might even be believed, but to me, you remain just a pup barking who, at the first chance to bite, retreats to his kennel. Woof Woof ... arf arf, come on Pluto, I’ll throw the bone down Giolitti street, and then I’ll leave you with the scruffs, since they’re so good that they don’t give a fuss. Oi oi, you still have a lot of brawls to see, don’t you think I stand on Giolitti street stopping people asking “Excuse me, may I send you to the hospital?”... oh mauro, just give me a blowjob since you’re still young and it’s better if you start learning these things early, my pretty little brat. Bye cutie cutie.

Yes, and I’m coming to the station, in the middle of 120,000 people, and I have to look for you? Come on, send me a private message with your email, we exchange phone numbers and we’ll meet, right? But the way you talk already shows that you’re just a kid; you’re still talking about "fights" and "beating each other up." There’s no hate from me, just competition. Since you say you’re so strong, I can’t miss the opportunity; it’s rare to find people ready to battle on the street. But you keep insisting on this bullshit about Termini station; this is my last post for you, I told you. It’s pointless for you to act tough with this nonsense without precision. Yes, I want your home address, I want your phone number; I’m more than willing to give you mine, I really couldn’t care less. What could you possibly do with my phone? Send me porn texts? If you want, you know where to find me, but I still don’t know where I can find you, yet you keep acting big. Then you say, "on Saturday night I’ll be around that area"... what does “on Saturday night” mean? It's not a date; what does “around that area” mean? It’s full of cops, and I’d get a report if I broke your collarbone, but you don’t think about that, because the most you’ve probably done is break a nose in your life. You don’t even understand what I mean by “let’s meet”; I’m talking about you and me, right here within a 2 km radius. If you want, I’m totally willing; as soon as I’m in the Rome area (which happens often, all roads lead to Rome... or not? Definitely much more often than a poor loser like you comes here for vacation), I’ll contact you. For now, bye bye.

But even I don’t really find her disgusting, however she makes such beautiful music that it makes you think of Carla Bruni when you close your eyes. She doesn’t hold a candle to her talent, I hope I’m making myself clear. You hear her voice, you picture a goddess... and instead she’s just a normal girl :D. The Portishead DVD doesn't appeal to me because it takes away the poetry from the sound... I repeat, if it were made like Live At Pompeii by the Floyd, with images, photos, and 3D footage... it would be worthy of being alongside Live At Pompeii, and I’m not just throwing out a random DVD, we’re talking about Perlazza increddiBBBile. Then without a doubt, spending an evening with her would change my mind, hearing those vocal cords panting I think would be better than the entire discography of Pink Floyd, Zappa, Patton... whoever you want, well. But as long as I only see her on TV (and in that DVD she’s heavily made up, the foundation reflects in the camera, even worse live) and not within reach, it feels like Mocio Vileda to me, and the grimaces she makes are very Exorcist-like... I wonder what she would do if given a crucifix... who knows... ;)