Ligabue
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THE REVIEW

[We don't want to waste time, and we know the stage front belongs to Vasco Rossi, but it made us laugh and we're passing it on to you "as is". Vic, you're a monazza.]

Luciano Ligabue. He's a person full of self-esteem (not to say a "puffed-up bastard"), one of those who comes home in the evening, has dinner, watches TV, takes a shower, screws a sixteen-year-old fan picked up in a Porsche at some highway rest stop, not neglecting to conclude by baptizing her face with his sperm... and maybe, before going to bed, he thinks it's time to write yet another masterpiece of art to delight his loyal audience consisting of fifteen-year-olds and construction workers who break into a cold sweat every time they have to conjugate a subjunctive... and the creative process is absolutely spontaneous; it starts with a phrase... I don't know, "Everyone wants to travel first class", around this they pile up 3-4 clichés put there just to construct some rhyme, the usual 2 chords—of course, all assembled in the same key—and there you have it, a nice warm and steaming pile of shit elegantly laid on a silver platter. And Luciano there on MTV giving interviews, talking about himself, wrapping himself in that look of a scruffy artist full of lessons to share with the world, concepts so deep they make you roll your eyes and scream to the heavens "oh-God-why-has-no-one-ever-thought-of-this-?" and stuff like that... a 24-carat asshole in a few words, a hairy and smelly testicle, completely devoid of talent and voice. You get me? The result of a lack of any kind of culture. And then... Maria de Filippi, come on, that lesbian whore full of crap who is with Maurizio Costanzo, the obese dwarf made famous by a soporific talk show where Giobbe Covatta and some AIDS-riddled addict regularly appear seeking salvation and kind words. Maria de Filippi, the anti-woman. Come on... how the hell did that disgusting trash bag end up on television, managing to host a show where an Albanian cow with more talent for equatorial penis grasping than dancing can become a semi-celebrity? I mean... in America, they have the Jerry Springer Show, but at least it's entertaining to see a buffoon with a blimp for a belly trying to kick the ass of a lap dancer with whom his wife ran away to satisfy her sapphic urges... I mean... I like lesbians, lesbians are an entertaining topic. And then, let's be honest, if I had to choose between a beer-bellied truck driver with Camel and Budweiser breath and a night club dancer with a marble-like ass, dressed only in two drops of Chanel N°5... well... it's likely I'd lose nights and end up like the damn Buridan's donkey... and say hi to William of Ockham and his razor. Ok, is it Saturday? Awesome.