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Cooloras, was it you?

I also conclude with a famous quote from Oreste il Grissinaio. When a sack of flour fell on his foot, leaving him limping for the rest of his life. He says: "But vaffanculo!"

... and people who can't write. Just like you! But look... Aria!

And then write properly, little acidic friend... "è" is written "eh" and in the post above... don’t use + to write "più"... it doesn’t look good... review your use of language a bit. And the arrogance. Then, if you really want to (I don’t care) go over it again.

Criticism is acceptable if it stays within a reasonable realm. Yours is crude, pretentious, annoying, and childish. There are many of us, pretty boy... really many. We manage and we enjoy it. You drown in your bile. And now breathe. I don't like to repeat myself. For the intervention, start paying the ticket. Because after that, we fly.

Ah Aeneas, sorry... the fervor made me forget my usual vows. Of esteem. Of heart. And of something else.

You called upon us, dear anonymous, and here we are... we, the miserable crew of poor, self-congratulatory, pitiful survivors and wankers who are members(!) of Debaser... and what are you doing? You tarnish the review of the wise Enea with this story of Enrybaxx and the mess that comes with it? God, what a bore. And so you celebrate the king of whiners, the one whose review was blocked by the mean editors, the one who self-censors because he accidentally talked about drugs and then realized it might ruin the future of the young users of this site... The one who walks around with a book of blank pages but already registered with SIAE, the one who wrote and will continue to write more than we ever will (may God keep him in glory)... that one... And we are pathetic... Yes, yes... Oh yes, yes... There are so many occasions to be silent, to maintain a shred of dignity by avoiding spouting nonsense when expressing a thought or a critique... You, dear one, with your petty ramblings and these ridiculous insinuations about the editors (by the way, Enea has already called you out) have missed a monumental opportunity. And now, air. Air, got it? Go back and search online for traces of your little friend Enry. Go have a contest of pomposity together; I think it could be a fine battle, my little bragging rascal... You’ve stayed silent for a long time, observing this little site of four coins, and you finally come out to say these four silly things? To cry over those who have left, slamming the door? Air... Because if you don't leave, I'll slice your tonsils from "behind." And those who know me, know that I don’t do surgery. And above all, that I won’t be using a scalpel.

Oh the Elbow! Common passion... But today Clarissa made me angry so... here you go!

Well...