I have a little 'sparse Christmas reflections:
- shoot the single repetition of Giusy Ferreri fucked in all stores is a strategy that does not work on me, just makes me think, "I said no! DO NOT BUY THE FUCK DISCO, HOUR TURN OFF THE dirge"
- for some reason which is sold under the intimate home should be decorated with strictly 24 square meters of lace disgusting, or not smosciano erections and the risk is someone to have fun instead of celebrating Christmas
- even dogs know unwrapped gifts, and can identify a sausage wrapped in a half tons of scented candles and bottles of aftershave
- Christmas without relatives than first degree is not so bad, at least I do not greet anyone, I must not fool anyone, I must not show my surprise opening round box of Lindt chocolates with hazelnut filling (to me gianduja sucks )
- in Terroni (at least in Bari say, come on), they make barrels at Christmas, a species beta testing for the New Year I suppose
- gobies (in Venetian GOI) are no longer almost anywhere. I remember as a small them caught in the canals of Burano, then gradually if not, he draws more and I felt guilty because I think I did pay off. Now they're really fear dying. Farewell to the best seafood risotto of the earth (
- with the last Christmas gifts for my brother, the shelf in the bathroom now seems a little altar of Playboy - just full of cosmetics, engraved with the bunny instead of balls (FAIL)
- Ilaria has something like 25 different rolls of wrapping paper, and I look yet.
That said, good nose. Enjoy
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