count to 10, in so many sad moments in our life, we can certainly avoid excessive external. Those that were taken by the heat, bring us to express opinions even exaggerated, as honest and genuine. I, yesterday, I tried. I counted to 10, 20, 30. I arrived at 100. So amazing myself, am I came back and repeated the countdown. Now, I admit my limit, and with all the humility of this world, I ask: Who the fuck chose the Christmas decorations in Piazza Umberto I? Last night, in a square half-empty and dark, stood as an emblem of this golden age that has invested Francavilla two huge poles with attached skeletal limbs, able to make me feel so small, useless and disgusted that I would have preferred, by way 'of Christmas decoration, a baseball bat covered with white Lucette stuck up your ass after a healthy splash of sand in the Ionian Sea.
The culprit will be arrested? I do not know, but after all the baseball I have never regretted. Yum!
In the photo, the tree of death.
0 comments:
Post a Comment