Lostinspace

Every now and then I wonder how gaggio you are.

It's official: il_Paolo is De Lorenzo. What anxiety.

@Skeletron: before you call me an alternative/average young person, make sure you have enough information and arguments; otherwise, refrain from emitting guttural sounds imitating that sly guy Il Paolo. @Il Paolo: you are truly pathetic in facing the criticism of this disgraceful writing. The phrase I contested prompted me to call you a superficial thinker (as you demonstrate yourself to be when making such generic and a priori judgments) and nothing more. Your attitude of false victimhood also shows a lack of arguments, a desire to provoke, total idiocy. You tell me, dear. Or go back to reviewing Vanzina's films, which is better.

I swallowed some words. It must be the hives that got to me. I correct the post. "...And that’s why, despite the obvious criticisms - which I can almost agree with if I put myself in the shoes of the alternative/average young Italian...". I had never commented on you, even though I have read many of your writings. This sentence contains the worst kind of common sense. That common sense on which much of today’s information and the resulting opinion of the paying public are based. Your review is an INSTANT CLASSIC in the history of sadness. The final sentence made me finally understand (perhaps with guilty delay) that you are a close relative of De Lorenzo, as well as the fake version of your lost dignity. Writings like this make me vomit and feel ashamed to be Italian. Behind this empty, useless, and ignorant patriotism now lurk the worst things. I vote for the song because of course I wouldn't miss it for anything in the world. I will talk about it extensively on the radio in a few days. The usual shabby regime propaganda and advertisement for reality shows: gentlemen, this has become Sanremo. Nothing more than an Italian jingle.

"...This is why, despite the obvious criticisms - which I can actually share by putting myself in the shoes of the alternative/average young Italian..." I had never commented before, even though I've read many of your writings. This sentence contains a brand of superficiality of the worst kind. That same superficiality on which a large part of today’s information and the ensuing opinion of the paying public is founded. Your review is an INSTANT CLASSIC in the history of sadness. The final sentence made me finally understand (perhaps with guilty delay) that you are closely related to De Lorenzo, as well as the fake of your lost dignity. Writings like this make me want to vomit and feel ashamed to be Italian. Behind this patriottiséè, I obviously wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Same old miserable regime propaganda and advertising for reality shows: gentlemen, this has become Sanremo. Forget about Italian songs.

On Wednesday, I'm going to see him live in London. Finally. I tell you. The review is poor. And how can we not mention "Snowy Atlas Mountains"?

Wow, what a review for a character I loved quite a bit in my youth, even if he was a cop. I need to watch at least the pilot episode...

Thank you Kosmo and Bartle… maybe this is the right time. My heart needs a lot of love. You guys, over there, will always have a special place. And now Terry, let’s stop procrastinating, this situation makes me extremely nervous. I can feel it in my sweaty hands and the pressure of my farts.

Hello dear Puni, does your little bottom still itch?, eh Envy and meanness of spirit are a terrible thing... take comfort, you can always end up paving provincial and/or municipal roads. I can see you doing well in that role.

I devoured it this summer, with growing emotion and... final bewilderment. A beautiful book, raw, complex, dreamlike, and true at the same time. Written (and translated) very well. I couldn't wrap my head around it just like at the end of Mulholland Drive (forgive the improper comparison) and I don't think I intend to. I've also given it away quite a bit, as often happens with the books I love. Nice page Blech, well done. And here’s a treat for you: PRUT!