BUH! If you are continuing
to read, it means that I have not scared, then you
all my esteem. I love you. Really. Ok, finished the shit, I can start with my articolo.Dunque, this time talk about the usual things that happen in ordinary homes, not only of the Italian people. Happen in other countries, but always to the Italians. I speak from personal experience as well. Not because I am
similar things happened, but because I am Italian. Or at least I live in Italy. I think ... maybe not just live and this would make me a zombie. So you're reading the thoughts of a zombie. But are not you ashamed? That is, if I am on a blog I followed the thoughts and ravings of a zombie, I finally feel like a little embarrassed (in the case of use this word every time, especially now). Okay, de gustibus and gustipullman de ... However, I am an Italian zombie.
I mean, talk about those small little thing that is slightly annoying, but in the long run perfected their corrosive power testis.
One of them, to give a light taste, is the almost constant presence of the old woman and / or friend of the cashier at the supermarket. What seems not seen since the fall of the Berlin Wall and then it turns out that talked about the time they met at an ATM (one hour earlier).
Meanwhile, maybe you just had to buy ice cream for the wife of your neighbor who is pregnant (and perhaps is not your fault if you care, dodger!) and the desires and can not move because her husband has been waiting for about 5 hours the bus stop to go to work and you know as soon as the bus passes you go .. . Meanwhile, the ice cream has become a colorful ultra creamy sauce that you run into sleeves on the shirt, the trousers, shoes and even on the machine that is closed in the garage and you have not taken because the store is near. And the gate of the garage is locked, double throw. Cola so much that children are always in supermarkets (at any time. Once I caught a 4 am among the porn DVD. Tranquilli, I was taking them. He was returning them after they are hired) will tell you and yell, "Mom, there is the sewer man." And you curse the old and / or friend of the cashier.
So you decide to leave the pulp ex-ice cream at the supermarket and take it to the bar, where you'll definitely faster. But there is the husband of the old and / or friend of the cashier, who happened to know the bartender. In short, the ice cream at the end you care and even the neighbor's wife: the child will be someone else. Come home pissed off, you shut in a closet and cry, because you wanted ice cream. Adapted from a story really invented.
Some people assume that these people are part of an ethnicity or alien coming to earth to conquer the globe using as a weapon of population mental exhaustion, or to test the patience levels of our own potential serial killer.
the same alien race apparently also belong to the technicians of the manufacturers of home appliances.
Do you have a fridge that does not work well after the purchase? You have a new kitchen that has to be changed because it has the connection for the gas that you use? Call customer service. They answered. So far, so good.
The call is held in absolute tranquility: the operator smiles, you smile, and even bacherozzi you've driven from home and who are guests in your house for a spaghetti smile (see this post their fascinating story full of special effects). You also have the impression that a deer jumps out the window and the birds cinguettino your favorite song. Do not even occur to know why, because clothes on the sixth floor and a fawn is agile, but not so much and your favorite song is a cult of Cannibal Corpse and if the chirping birds must weigh about 78 pounds and be evil.
I mean, you're happy and ready for a great day of sun and blue (Nope Nope na ...). The operator will simpaticissimerrimo
solace with mellifluous voice and whispers, "Sure honey, we'll be at home in more than 48 hours, and wait for us comfortable with a pen in hand, you have to sign well something right.. "And a Pilin erection you are, be sincere by anyone ... I do not say ... HEY! This guy has an erection!
'nuff said, you say? Ah already, the phone porn with the service. Sorry, I have taken a beer and a cigarette, I was bored to be read by you.
You have promised that within 48 hours will be from you, so do not go out because if you do not risks at home are a fool and take two days off work if you have one. do you also shave your back from bacherozzi. And here lies the deception of the operator, who failed a small detail ... The 48 hours are not consecutive.
Your psychological torture begins now, dearie. Waiting in vain, you regrow hair on the back, cockroaches grow old with you and that you will always Pilin erection. When you give up and decide to find a new job because logically you lost after the past two and a half waiting for the coach, go to the bathroom to take a shower. Will ring the bell. You will arrive breathless at the door, you open your e. .. Nothing, usually the boy who plays and runs made you a joke. Do you lock yourself in the closet above and cry because I thought I had found the coach of your life depending on the operator's voice on the phone. Here, at the time the technician arrives.
But do not feel it because you're crying for him. Your refrigerator will never work more and the kitchen you never use it because the coach was offended by your immature behavior, wanton and careless, decide not to come to your house for no reason at all. Not even to play with you at Gorm. Even if the promise of the figurines twilight. No longer. You will always have to eat fast food and drink in the worst bar in Caracas and Casal Pusterlengo. You will end up on the pavement, with cholesterol in the liver with a thousand and one ID card.
Well, these little things make me angry.
I have nothing to say for today, arrangiatevi. If you want to ask something about the book "Ask Jack" is the e-mail secondopiano59@gmail.com.
That said, you give up because I'm not a real life and the PC all day like you who are waiting for the call from the coach of your life.
And now beer!
We present a burp.
Jack.
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