Does You Cervix Open For You Period

makes a fucking cold!

the end, my tutor found out you want to read a draft of my report on construction next Thursday, so I have to almost work on these two days. But come the weekend, briefly, that, precisely, I've got to do.

After a long Friday of passion, I resumed for the evening and after a few beers you go to Luke & Leroy, where the need is Gazza drunk singing Parklife, but otherwise we are at the Friday evening of Plastic. Largely compensates for the missing mod but two Asian lesbian porn film exchange effusions in the middle of the track. Gin & Tonic gin & tonic, gin & tonic and the evening passed cheerfully and I, Linda Jurie and the Korean imbonitrice there until her leg and a half or four of them down there.

And like every night that you respect, comes the famazza total that deflects into Pizza Joe's on 7th Avenue, where I ask for a slice of Margherita indicating a Cheese Pizza, and the type tells me that the Italians in reality called Margherita pizza completely without a trace of cheese and tomato that is more in the two slices. You never stop learning.

Every person that goes underground feels compelled to ask whether the train will take them where they want to really `go. It is a new evolution of my problem with directions. My Saturday to maximum sub-zero starts in the late afternoon, with a café at the Cake Shop, continues with a negligible local Margaritas in Mexico and takes shape with a delicious dinner of salmon, whose skin is still attached to the pan in the kitchen. When an atomic bomb `sweep away New York, will is still there to witness my failure. Having recovered a bit 'of people, bring all of the Rock And Rare, Meatpacking District, the after-party gig with Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, and I find the Morning After Girls playing with Peter Hayes of BRMC, which is much they all do the same stuff, that is, the Jesus & Mary Chain, all completely drunk, in particular Nick Jago, BRMC drummer, who wanders around the stage banging the tambourine on the other ... Long as none of the tambourine Journal of May he will not throw down from the stage. Where I think it is today. Tambourine is also here this:


Devastating. The walls of guitar and trap I find myself, hopelessly, to look at the shoes. Fig.

begins Sunday in the best way, stopping to give Bleecker Records where, for President's Day, the stock fund of the 45 laps. And what you going fishing?


The town starts to answer, maybe all these signs just wanted to test myself. I absolutely need a café around the corner and stopped me with a kind of coupon for Free coffee. For the evening of Sunday the idea was to go and see that which remains of the New York Dolls, but then seemed to me is one thing too pathetic. Let us realize how they are made. This is one of the New York Dolls:

This is Luca Sardella:


And do not try to tell me I'm two different people. Then we spend the evening with locals in the Lower East, Dark Room, beautiful, Verlaine, nice name, but a little local 'crap, and finally to Pianos for a nightcap.

And yesterday, Monday, was a holiday! We went to the record release party of the Arctic Monkeys, expecting huge crowds since the hype that surrounds them ... To end, ten appearances, all English and Italian (us), but disc $ 10 with free poster, mega-posters, posters of Test Icicles, Clearlake and Orange Juice (Connie house it will never be more as before), cd single sampler of the Domino ... I have already said about the free beer?

... and wake up this morning, pulled into the café and reports. Report. Report. Work. Work. Work. Pub. Club Sleep.

Maxine For President Clipart

not make a fucking cold

not make a fucking cold, Vun: Perugina's kisses

Connie gave me the pass for the gym more pussy in the city, the Equinox, miles of treadmills, swimming pool, sauna, shampoo mint . The only problem is that every week I have to change slightly my name, because it is not apparent from the archives that I have already used the pass and is now paying, what the fuck. I've also tried, but the tools are used to strengthen the muscles and not to create them from scratch. To which I threw in the pool, hoping to find Vecchiazzano obese intent to see if it is true that the pee is green, but I found only Olympic champions in freestyle grappling with the world record. After a swim or two issues, with fear of a clash against the Dolphins, and after simulation of elbow injury, I fled. Definitely.

This is happened on Tuesday, the day of Valentine's Day more than ever felt here, the kind that people exchange gifts in bursts, even among friends, father and daughter, neighbor and neighbor across the homosexual. Come back from the gym, totally destroyed despite physical activity close to zero, I performed a scientific experiment: listening to the playlist on my Ipod Uk on the streets of Manhattan. In fact, it makes species.

So listen "Just looking" of the Charlatans and the metalhead next to me on the subway reads Vanity Fair, listening to "She's a man" of Thurman and one can stop me to ask `where is the closest noodle shop (the signs become more sophisticated every day ...), I hear the dodgy, "Staying out for the summer," while later in the Gristedes supermarket, begins "Happy" of Travis and I try in vain peeled tomatoes, even the Northern Uproar and the cashier asks me something I can not feel convinced and I nod, I go up to "Radio speaks" of the West 4th Revelino that takes me home.

On flights of stairs of 523 Hudson Street Party "Underwear" by Pulp and I can not help but think that this song is Valentine's most beautiful in the world. Then I go into my house tilted, and Connie is back.


not make a fucking cold, Du: In '75 we c'avevamo Gilda

Vice President Cheney after a nice drink has impallinato a hunting companion, find new photos of torture at Abu Ghraib and the U.S. , upset, are divided: 50% is shocked by the flirtation between Jessica Simpson and singer of Maroon 5 and the remaining 50% is masturbating with a special issue of Sports Illustrated swimsuit.

Wednesday is the big day of the return of the Star Spangles, with a disc in the freezer in October, a bassist and a drummer changed and a contract with Capitol that is not understood well. When I saw them play in 2003, the hipster world was abuzz in anticipation of their debut album, the concerts a pit (here, I remember, it means beating of feet deep), perennially sold-out. I crushed their first album, "Bazooka" I can not drive for more to anyone (no, is illegal: I made a private copy and maybe not even that) and then, shit, I expected great things, considering the venue, CBGB's.
The charm of the place remains unchanged, it is just a big bullshit this whole thing of the closure (which will happen ', without exception, in October). Valli understand, 'sti assholes. Anyway. The first surprise is that there's no too many people, in fact there is almost a fuck about anyone ... The groups are open as long as you leave (the Wired are the worst, but The New Story, the Orange Park are the Kings Of Leon but worse than The New Story), the selection of groups in the ass in fact may have its weight to the fortunes of a club, even if one speaks of CBGB's.

The Spangles, despite everything, beautiful part loads, you see that is a good deal 'that do not play, alternating new one and old one (including the classics, "I live for speed," "I do not want to be crazy anymore," "Which of the two of us ...", "Science fiction"), but the belief is waning because people do not `and` nothing to share. There is more public, and infinitely more excited to see the 128 Picchio Rosso Krupps (without taking anything away from them) ... The impression is that their time is gone forever. Too bad, fuck. Stupid me that I was so deluded that a group could pull more than the debut album. Poor Spangles.


not make a fucking cold, Tri: My new group more preferred (the part that does not want to read Coope)

In fooling network that distinguishes my work days, I pulled out of the hat of the calls for the world premiere of "Date Movie", a sort of sequel to "Scary Movie of total ignorance and disconcerting, with gags so obvious and down to earth that I laugh out loud from beginning to end. As soon as I finish

sling subway to the Lower East Side. At the intersection where it should be the Rothko, there is only `a Deli and also rather Zozzo. R'n'R stationed in front of them four girls of the species from Friday night at Plastic, dark look strictly 80s and frangettona ordnance. Our dialogue (translated freely as always):

"Excuse me, you know where is the Rothko?
"Yes, is right here behind them ... I bet you go to see the Baby Shakes!"
"No, really go for the other two groups, the Hong Kong and Celebration"
"Oh ... but the baby shakes us ..."
"Ah. Well. Well, I bet you're also very respectable"

... and despite the approach they take it all and even the singer is said to "love" of my name (... oh, well), I accompany inside, I have the bass like I `who knows (I have not idea why), I give the order, brooch, a single copy of the CD, the latest copy of the 45 laps. Earned, in just a few minutes and without any kind of play, the title of my favorite band (not difficult bribe). And I'm talking about this , so to speak.

subsequent groups seem to be the most interesting band in circulation without a recording contract, and in fact are among the best things that I have passed between my ears since I came here. The Hong Kong are the Strokes with Debbie Harry, and Celebration are heading a cross between Siouxsie & The Banshees and Blonde Redhead. Are both well worth a listen, but believe me, the Baby Shakes, fuck, are the best team in the world. Listen to your headphones to bleed remains of sponge. That you can.

(during the night I learned a new word that I misused for hours, only to discover that means "to ejaculate on qlcosa, qlcuno ... taught me suits, the friend of the Korean Jurie, James Iha of Smashing Pumpkins put the disks in the post-concert)

not make a fucking cold, final reccomendations.

whole life, Baby Shakes . Listen to it. And maybe let me know. I'm curious.
"Not Getting Better" of Hong Kong.
"Galaxies" of Hong Kong, which gets them .
Finally, Celebration.

Compacted Stools Guinea Pigs

The blizzard of '06

One major difference between the USA and Italy here is that if they say that on Saturday afternoon comes the snowstorm, there are cocks, it starts to snow promptly at 16. It does not stop until Sunday afternoon, as expected.

E 'came the blizzard of 2006. The largest snowstorm since the man is posed the problem of measuring how much snow fell. More than two feet, and big ones. People who ski, toboggan, no cars.
Seeing is believing.

type that once was a Vespa parked on West 10th:



And this was a car parked on Hudson Street:



And this was a Central Park:



Central Park before sunset:



... Why then, at sunset, Energizer camera batteries, change of fresh in the morning, have been exhausted. Among

a blunder to another, between one and culata a sprained ankle (I had not thought of bringing your hiking boots ...), including a cross-country skier and a penguin suicide, I can recall, after vain waiting for 40 minutes, the subway line 2 on the 72nd. Too tired life, and so I end up, in spite of myself, here . With all the ethical and various cocks.

Smoking 1 Cigarette/day

Tuesday, wednesday, thursday

In Greenwich Village, the neighborhood in which alive, if you do not have a dog you are totally out. This morning, walking tours between Hudson Street and the Christopher Street station, crossing dozens of people with the dog poop in his hand, while politely proceed towards the closest trash bin. Dozens of children go to school while fiddling with their parents, past a row of shops infinite and S & M fetish gear.

For Tuesday I had no programs, but surprisingly jumped out two free tickets to go see the New York Knicks against the Los Angeles Clippers at Madison Square Garden, so I could attend an NBA game in the company of Connie (to which his brother had procured the tickets ... which in theory they cost around 80 dollars each). Great show, cheerleaders, popcorn, Chuck Norris, Charles and Matilda (cited).

... and since I was in the vein of early experiences, Wednesday night I went to the Metropolitan Opera House to see my first opera (the next will be our main prison in the suburbs of Milan) good Verdi's Rigoletto. The only tickets that managed to get surprisingly only cost $ 26 more charges ... Climb climb up to discover that we are in the very last row, standing before the space for livestock ... I can touch the ceiling and getting up in the first ten minutes I was sure that everything is going to collapse and die with no way out ... Then I think of something else. In the end, an experience. Three hours of work, with lots of content proprietor replaced for sore throat between the second and third act. It

dinner at Friday's in Times Square, where the discount because there are `convinced the waitress that we are friends of Jennifer Lopez.

... and come home as usual at unlikely times, I wake up with difficulty, dazed children dribble shit bdsm and collectors to recover in good to take a liter of coffee from Starbuck's here in front, and literally have breakfast Tiffany's while I try not to come into the office late.

And last night, let me miss anything, I went with Linda to see Supergrass at Webster Hall, adapted to local theater, beautiful, capacity media, such as Rolling Stone. The support group, Pilotdrift, not worth mentioning. After the beer we decided to approach a little 'and without any kind of trouble we get into the barricade! Unbelievable. Only one to complain about the little guy fringed behind me ("Come on ... I can not see anything ... my favorite band" to which I answer with a quiet but eloquent "Sorry"). They are so close that Gaz Coombes, singer, is so big:



... and say that as a sex symbol a bit 'lost. They start in acoustics, with gems like the soft review of "Caught by the Fuzz", then pull the whole concert, slowing here and there, changing some parts, like "Mary", offering songs from the last and the classics (except, predictably, "Alright"), sweating like pigs, revealing the true meaning of the impressive fringe (ie, bring back ... like a famous DJ of a popular nightclub in Milan), they love, they give completely, will entertain and amuse us. Or at least amuse me and Linda: the American public can not go beyond the movement of the head as the highest expression of enthusiasm. An English-style dancing and shaking a bit 'and nearly a brawl breaks out. To say. Still them



And this complete lack of ignorance makes me feel very far from Italy, EXCEPT `with a one-dollar tip to a waiter, I can cheat hundreds of people in line for the jacket and it makes me feel at home. This morning, shit fetish coffee. Just in time.



Weather report: total cold and snow to come.