The things that are said to make best use of an otherwise dull day No one ever knew with absolute certainty what was the point of the stories of Melvin, not even me who knew him best. A set of facts improbable but exciting at the same time, marked by a succession of women whose names un'inattendibile eccentrically Central Europe: Vesna, Ottilia, Svetlana ... (to say ... I know ... never 'or Mary na' na Giusy).
James and I gently undermined by the effect of ethanol, we were listening to them with the same morbid curiosity of two children who are listening to a fairy tale, heedless of authenticity or falsity of what happened.
"It's the typical story of someone who sells Ukulele," Henry said softly while Melvin down from the boat to go for disproportionate supplies of alcohol. We had given a lot more than they should, knowing that we had never seen even the most insignificant change. Moreover, this was the price to pay for not wanting to be bothered the least ostentatious sloth that had gone first to board a boat dressed from head to foot as three outcasts pen Jerome.
eyebrows arched Henry sometimes sunny hues of the water were to guess his opposition to the presence of Melvin. James and I looked at each other perplexed. Indeed he was right, even if they did not know his name really Melvin (who knew a lot of Moby Dick), or who sell 'ste blessed ukulele (it does not take a market survey to estimate the low demand of this article), the thing that irritated me most was that Henry continued to generalize on behalf of sellers of ukulele as if he already knew too much respect James and me as a model of comparison could only count on Melvin. Faced with this inequality we opted for a diplomatic silence.
But our conformation was not in any way more sincere than that of Melvin. Accredited by our blazer, bow elegantly loose on the starched shirts and crystal glasses scattered on the Scottish plaid, were the obvious object of bile visitors who walked on to Victoria Park and down the banks of the canal ... and who admired our dandyism. ... BUT THAT DANDY?? ON THE BOYS ... WE ARE IN 2008 ... RECLAIM!
off the boat and went to watch The Eurovision Song Contest on TV.
Now, even I know exactly what should be the point of this post, but it's the typical story of someone who has a blog ... and who has been too long away from home.
PS: I wanted to thank two people in particular HUGE Silvio Lorenzi and Claudia (who finally decided to publish Asdru )
I also wanted to thank and salute all those who have written to me ... you know who you are .. .
