I know, I know. I know. I am guilty retired in silence for several weeks. Without advance notice of Friends cats, without giving more information to me (to speak of my roommate were our own newspapers and television, in a struggle with bulimia to amplify every verbal tic of our little father). Actually I bypassed sleepless on Facebook . But Cuorefelino remained unchanged as a calendar garage forgotten, those who attach themselves to always call a ass ass even if in the meantime has made a career and became minister .
The fact is that things happened that hurt me the most important point of pride that has a cat, ie that innate sense of equanimity that makes us sovereign in every situation, the indolence of one who knows he has nine lives and are allowed the luxury of losing count of what is living, the cynicism that makes us pass over any obstacles and jump over all human felpatamente smallness. These, the attributes that normally in front of that tragedy that the man called us to squint and yawn, and make us look ruthlessly sarcastic if you offer a simple mind such as through writing or speaking.
There is nothing more degrading to us discovering two-legged prey to emotions such as anger. But when I read the intercepts of these two monsters laughing at night bed in the news the earthquake in Italy, lost for the first time all my gattitudine. I realized that what I was trying to write was not even me smile more. I looked at my old roommate in a cataleptic state press keys on the keyboard at my command and I did not know who was more of us to take the reins telepathic: I put up with him or he thought that Italy had opened the meshes of the law stupid and taken away from me the desire to play? The cat was finally stumbled upon a plush biggest obstacle even his immense sense of superiority: a pile of shit deposited by a nation that broke the lines, went crazy for him to grab everything you already belong to the right, in ' happy hour balances the requirements of law and lightning, struck by its supreme governing the mad hatter, and barbarized incarognita without emulation of the great-law.
As you can see only too well, I still have not recovered the enamel and the ironic detachment that would serve to Cuorefelino to deserve the label of "satire." But the reality has now exceeded the imagination of any professional comedy of laughter. The fear of being left without work meanders between comedians and cartoonists, unable to keep up the great found hilarious clown . You end up with fish in troubled waters . The master of satire are forced by violence to respond with a caricature of reality metaphors sodomitic . He laughs bitterly.
My roommate, to use the euphemism of the historic Women's Veronica, "not-well-being." It is increasingly difficult during my penetrations hypnotic, hunt down the few remaining neurons that move particles in his brain as anarchist, exhilarated by the mysterious animal in excess of Viagra. That no longer has the mental freshness is a thing of the past clear to everyone, especially lizards that crawl around with his tongue in his hand. But even the so-called people's freedom (to get their cabbage) has realized that the emperor has no clothes, even stupid. It's like a school that celebrates when the principal port in the news that the class teacher is ill and the school day jumps. Here, however, miss a whole term, and the student body is an army of cross-rich and beggars who aim to divide the sixty billion two hundred and fifty billion of corruption and shadow economy and tax evasion that the Bel Paese bill every year, declaring war on the judiciary and actually warring against the law. While joining a party with a cake like you are willing to support with a poor rating with Alzheimer's with the beat heavy neurosis. The problem is that they rate it but then I have to live with me: after the last election victory has postponed indefinitely its old plan to move to Libya. Among
the facts that in recent months have humiliated the comedians of Italy, making them look prim by comparison of politicians, there was the kiss to Gaddafi, mistaken for Provenzano to professional deformation. There were his diplomatic pirouettes on the chessboard of the Mediterranean, the speed of Sufi . Exported spirits in France, with its highly selected collection candidatine of the region. Italy has made to bend in two with laughter
promised the defeat of the Mafia and the joint cancer per share of his government within three years. The secret, like any good comedian, is not able to laugh at anyone for their jokes.
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