feline friends to apologize for my long silence, but last week my human prosthesis has suddenly embarked on a long journey relaxing that has touched several continents. Unfortunately, the scarcity of other simple-minded family left me with no perpetrators of my telepathic commands, then with his mouth closed. As explained
's last , the positivist character and a bit' Dionysian my roommate is incompatible with the 'jinx air that blows in Italy for some time. This forces him to pilgrimages to exotic lands increasingly rare in the global world, where the so-called civilization has not yet cleared the primitive instincts of 'homo sapiens ensnared in a mesh of unnatural duties.
Last night it fresh fresh to return from his trip with a double-Saharan Africa, a tan that rivals the U.S. President and synthetic hair full of sand. "I am the desert," he said proudly, folding the top of his head towards me and his wife, who were silent on the couch. I have only glimpsed something like a mat car crushed after a trip to the beach.
was very excited and began immediately to tell his new best friend, a wandering Libyan military that for forty years living in a tent and from there controls a nation. The excitement took him in particular to the memory of the concubines of the nomad, twenty beautiful scantily clad costumes in the air, dragging him into a feverish belly dancing time around ten seconds, that is, until a lumbago has not intervened to calm him down. During all the time, the wife of my friend looked at in a vacuum with no expression.
"A dreamland," said orthopedic escalmato sitting in the chair, his face imprinted with the same tender smile that boyish check when reading the comic adventures of Salgari. "A virgin land, where men can be satisfied with what their prime minister bestows them. He can decide freely for the good of the people, without always having to convince its reasons defeatist half of the country. There the judges know them to him without its limitations should be explained by specific laws. Televisions are free as they once were in Italy, before the the Communists monopolized. The premier year-round living in a tent as if it were on holiday: no need to retreat into a villa impregnable, where grooms trusted to defend it by hordes of young Bolsheviks Reeks, or mechanized admirers. Women are bought instead of camels with jewels and ministries, and the football team wins all the premier league. "
Then his wife got up and without saying a word, he vanished in a dark corner of the home. I was dying to get him to telepathically connect to the Internet immediately to resume writing on my blog , but the butler was in the area and I knew that seeing his master to use the computer would have caused the poor, which is infarcted, the same shock of seeing a monkey fly a nuclear submarine.
"It is a country thriving economy," he hung up, "because people's entrepreneurial spirit. They are not whiners like the Italians. Is there a crisis? Ghe I think, says the Libyan! But here all factories to close because the workers want gentlemen agreements in good standing. No, Libya is submerged, and no taxes, and the economy flies. I still talk to Giulietto . But that there is more difficult to convince Ancelotti. "
's monologue lasted several minutes, during which I have granted multiple naps thanks to the monotony of his chanting Monza, when suddenly I was awakened a few words. "Yes, my friend knew a lot Bettino, when he left this country to go to North Africa. Ah, the colonel I've already said, if there are up once again the Communists, I do not remit more to buy seats with senators and dancers. now what age when you Grandpa. And then you go all in Libya. I already have a tent to fourteen floors, inside a mausoleum, near the pyramids. Well, how about cat? A cat naked like you who suffer from the cold, the heat of the desert would only good! "
I am seen to share a trough with a camel and I could not stand it any longer: I've silenced telepathically and I removed all the neuronal connections associating the flight from Italy to Libya. Now when hollowed out expatriates think more than anything else the Riviera. But the fascination with Libya and its leader has not left wandering. Today, heartened by the optimism of the Bedouin, made his reappearance in the land of the unemployed re-launching the idea of \u200b\u200bgrand bridge across the Straits. screening telepathic One told me he is already contemplating a bridge between Lampedusa and Tripoli.
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