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As a family

really unexpected things happen in this country.

Peter Taricone crashes to the ground in Terni, after parachuting. He died during the night. And you're sorry. But really sorry for you. Do you mind as if Peter knew him, met him the summer on holiday, like the kind of fifth above that you had a crush on 14 years. It can not even condemn you for participating in Big Brother because, on the other hand, participated in the first edition, when it made sense to participate. You are not allowed by the system and not cannibalize went to massage the feet of shitty Lele Mora. Apparently, he had the brain, Peter. And apparently, it was a beautiful person. She was able to make good use of reality TV, has managed to get in where and when to get out, preserving their dignity and autonomy in choosing their own path, avoiding the diabolical duo Costanzo-De Filippi, just in the years when that kind of tv blossomed in its full stench.

not lost a great actor, an old television presenter, a rock star beautiful and damned. He left a boy, one down, a Southerner, one of those vaguely guappo aftertaste but who can be loving. And, in fact, the displeasure felt exactly that. As if it happened to an old friend. For even an acquaintance. One who no longer felt for years, but who always remembers with a smile, thinking back to his outspoken ways and sympathy it aroused. "I'm shocked, like a family," said the SLIP (remember that slip is an acronym standing for secretary lesbo angry professional) - Technically, however, must also go to concerts, Alessandra Amoruso, therefore should not be included in the panel of persons to be considered mentally healthy.

The point is that Peter, unlike many contemporaries and posterity as many (television talking about) had a different fabric and has defended his individuality, yielding to Constantine Vitalliano the role - if not his - the emblem of neotelevision generalist private .

At this point we could talk about how the television media affect the perception of the known and will lead us to develop a radical form of induced familiar to the heroes the small screen, or we may mention the fact that the death of Taricone was the first news is that the Courier of the Republic this morning and that some have concocted a rudimentary comparison between the death of Peter and the white deaths, claiming the increasing importance of the second before.

You believe that these controversies do not make sense and you think that if ordinary people, writers and journalists express condolences for the untimely death of a boy of 35 years, leaving his wife and daughter, this is a simple expression of humanity . Why is it that this displeasure.

point. It is enough.

Then it happens that Dell'Utri was sentenced to seven years in prison, finally. However, if the news is how much you do not touch because Italian politics is like a drama Italian Serie C, even worse than a fiction, because there is not even Alessio Boni, say, with its fighezza. And then we learn this news and you think, however, well sure, if you do not a prison.

Then read that Tartaglia was not considered due to souveniricidio (remember that a few months ago a deranged, Massimo Tartaglia precisely, had forced a miniature of the Cathedral of Milan to crash into the face of Silvio Berlusconi , causing the indignation of all the associations of Italian souvenir and a sit-in protest that he had seen hundreds of small Colosseum, small towers Pisa, Michelangelo's David and children of small cathedrals spilling in front of the Parliament).

Massimo Tartaglia was acquitted (and Dell'Utri convicted ... would almost think that God exists) as a result of expertise, thanks to which it was found that the souvenirs have no soul and are not considered living beings, except that the Vatican .

Personally, I think that the acquittal Tartaglia confirms the theory of a plot, which sees the 'One & Three face an ordeal media impressing the public with director Mel Gibson and Patrick D'Addario makes Our Lady of Sorrows. Sergio Rubini rejects the thief, leaving the right to Bondi .

Then, two days there will be demonstration in Rome against the gag law and you'd rather go just that when they understand that these events should not be held weekdays, will never be too late.

E, in agenda news media so thick, just a lot of space - not much time - to talk about your weekend at sea in Viareggio - "There were once 11 southerners who wanted to, very strongly wanted to go to sea."

little time to tell of 36 hours outside of Milan, the 10 hours spent in the cockpit of your fiestina being stacked on the A1 and Cisa, 15 years of life lost due to fatigue, the Beatles and Strokes and Arctic Monkeys along the way, that mingled with the chatter of women, while the road is not asphalt slow drainage flowed between the Emilian Apennines.

E 'was great to see the sea, be the first swim of the season all together, watch Mid Melinda - that when you read this sentence say saccharine voice, "I! I am half of Melinda "- and he wants to understand a lot regardless of the color white to yellowish; dine on lobster ravioli with fish, white wine and fried food, contrary to the commandments of brutally Fight Fat . E 'was great to chat on the veranda until 4 in the morning with your friends Sicilians, among whom you are and you feel a sort of mascot. For

Not to mention the scientific scopone lost - in our defense, the cards were not Sicilian and Neapolitan - the rackets, fishing, coccobbello, aperitif at sunset on the waterfront that requires an overwhelming desire to summer holidays. So much to cause you to begin the countdown from yesterday.

Less than 25 days at the dawn of civilization, and to leave agognatissime, meanwhile, goes on, with third-degree burn, specially captured to skin, because skin is priceless in Milan and throughout the rest , there is a postepay empty.

At the end of the day, "Or warrior" has slipped down the home page of the Republic, giving way to the usual Italian tarantella: mafia, calcium and whores.

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blue ... But now?

eliminated Italy in the World Cup 2010. Renzo Bossi
test its first erection.
(His girlfriend, however, has received the last of Balotelli)

What will become of this training championship in high school? Soccer Parish, by sub-amateur performance?

Mystery revealed:

Zambrotta , per game over, calls for a Gillette Mach Plus XXII Air Flow.

must touch the goatee. In the evening he is expected at Cocorico.

Iaquinta makes a break. Break with the brawn.

Gilardino get drunk water olive grove.

Chiellini s'ingozza of bread and Nutella.

Buffon s'ingozza cook the national team.

Marchetti impulse buys all Dario Argento's filmography: he wants to try the same emotion in his door.

Montolivo talking on the phone with Maria De Filippi: tronista will be next season.

As advisor, Federico Moccia.

Gattuso send your resume to a call center vodafone. But do not take it. Apparently not speak clearly.

De Rossi decide who will play in the next round of Crime Novel. The beard gives him (the thug from air).

Criscito looks loop all the episodes of Power Rangers.

Cannavaro cries. He knows that hell will be forced to run for eternity on a treadmill.

Pirlo was never convened. His last World Cup were those of 2006. Silvio

guarantees.


If Quagliarella had called Quail maybe CT would first put in the field ...

Christmas is depressed. Law. A book.
Not to make too much trouble, click Gomorrah.

May will, even if you have narrow shoulders, quest'altr'anno play with the number seven shirt ...


Pepe , to ease the tension, practice masturbation watching a video of Sailor Moon and Sailor Mars make a lap dance for Holly and Benji.

Camoranesi , in a fit of despair, drowns his straightener in a bathtub full of Havana Club, Alma de Cuba

Marcello Lippi will take to the policy ( which is however still lower than the performance of the country).

A we do is realize that this great country is no longer even able to play football. And our national team is a reflection of who we are: a bunch of lazy derelict adrift, devoid of creativity, inspiration, imagination, style and class.

Berlusconi is outraged by the performance of the Azzurri in this World Cup.

The premature disqualification is not enough to distract the public. The Prime Minister will come up that makes paid sex with Rita Levi Montalcini now to distract the Italians and to pass orders, censures, amnesties, pardons and dismissal.

Bel image damage.

The ruling class falls into a panic.

"Travaglio Di Pietro and spoil the Italian world," broadcast Felt .

"Only one team full of southerners, could be beaten by the Slavs of shit," said Maroni .

"I suppose to believe that self-criticism should be made to understand what does not work in our chemistry," began Walter Veltroni during the workshop "ineffective and inefficient for a living" held with the national team following the defeat.

"These guys are sunk," he finally said Premier .

"I promised to send Carfagna, Gelmini, Carlucci and Santanché in the locker room after the game if they won ...", says dismay.

"Between 4 years will be different ... Italy will win!" concluded Berlusconi.

Reliable sources say that the One & Three intends, after having abolished the ICI and beat the cancer, to buy the entire world and to manage the organization of the tournament Dell'Utri that, however, the fantasy is very strong.

Meanwhile, you'd go back to 2006.

4 years younger, 3 kg more lean, sitting in Piazza Maggiore in Bologna with a broken tailbone, to look at Buffon, Materazzi, Pirlo, Grosso, Camoranesi, Totti, Toni (Toni who was that dumpling) to celebrate as if, for some hours, there was something to celebrate, in a general three-color display, as if for a few hours, there was an Italy to pay homage.

Now tiferai Argentina.

But, anyway, is not the same thing.

Brasilan Wax Afbeeldingen

final exams ... sometimes they come back. Those

- CONTENT NOT INTERESTING -

Not that it's great news, yet put in the potpourri of seasonal scoop completely useless, the proof bikini, tourists with their feet in fountains, to the elderly because of the heat gun (this year latita) via exciting dog racing - pride of 'the nfotainment typically Italian, who gave birth to several media minotaurs, with tits Barbara D'Urso and the head of Augustus Minzolini - well in this agenda packed with media and cyclic non-information, each year, these days, someone reminds you that tens of thousands of young Italians fantamilioni prepares to support the school-leaving examination .

That one, training and professional odyssey, whose degree is simply the first cry, I never think to their maturity. Except that we see the face of Vaporidis , sighs sadly and continues its busy bustling about, trying to forget forever the face of that Vaporidis. Then, pouring out Vaporidis to girls as sex symbols and borders on the immoral speculation shows a clear failure on cognitive minds too young.

However, every year, these days, you go to comb through the Internet, is looking for traces of the themes, there are questions about what you might have to choose. Then, systematically, it is thought to their maturity.

You remember distinctly that the day before the start were very quiet. He had no fear on first test because confident that, whatever had come brilliant track, you'd managed to throw down half a dozen columns (the verb "imbrusare" in Taranto, the art of divination that allows you to talk / write knowing very little, but with a look that seems as if you do know enough to deserve an 8 or 30).

the eve of the second test - mathematics - were equally quiet: you could only copy, I had nothing to complain about, any benefit to be expected of yourself, you had left school by the end of the fourth year, the pace along Your existential journey in complete mathematics unconsciousness, bare minimum of analytical skills that any person who is often a daily high school - including the janitors - would have, if only by osmosis. But you, instead, were simply in the hands of god, like much of the class (16 people out of 17). [Not that we were a bunch of goats, is that we had a fundamentalist math professor, who wanted a lot of good but, in fact, an extremist with fetishism Taylor's theorem that do not know anything except that demonstration - 4 pages - was too long to be learned].

For the third test you began to harbor a rich dose of anxiety , sublimatasi, finally, close to orality. I distinctly remember the tears on the phone with your classmate, desperate, as if that vote determine your future or if it changes your past.

Since you when you dress, look at the schedule from the shoes, for oral departed from the maturity of the photographs (taken in Berlin and Dresden) and from there derivasti the rest of the essay.

The the essay you did for your own free will, not mandatory, but you were firmly convinced that if I had impressed the committee with the job, would not have dug much in your ignorance. It was not the case.

But, somehow, sostenesti your mouth and when you came out (again in tears ... it is interesting to remember how we felt shit although whimper all the time), was over and, in fact, was went well.

anxiety was unparalleled, the hearing of maturity, never experienced, even for the discussion of the thesis.

Your brilliant academic career - a number fluctuated between 9 and several 3 - and ended in 100/100, after a few days, you and your strong partner bank you went to greet the prof. You do not fool you did that, before entering the school, saying he would burst into tears, which was a putrid shamelessly sentimental nostalgia (on the other hand, were best friends), making you a mockery of the whole pathos of those goodbyes disguised as "goodbye."

Then the unexpected happened imponderable.

Professor of Italian, greeting, you gave him a pinch on the cheek and you smiled.

Your girlfriend left the school seraphic.

You, sobbing.

E 'that you do not expect it.

With your Professor of Italian hybrid was a relationship between sympathy and antipathy.

was able to assign a theme for punishment and give you 9; accuse you of not to study literature, but to plant a 8 for a presentation on Dante and interrogated for months, was able to get 5 and 1 / 2 on the first task of the third year and then by admitting them to maturity with 10.

5 and 1 / 2 more education of your memory. A 5 and 1 / 2, which shook the most deeply hidden chords of your ego sixteen year old - used the most votes since the time of the placenta when writing essays on the walls of the womb of your mother - to the middle school teacher Italian invented a special voting for your themes: "commendable", that was more than "very good", which was the maximum, because "very good" according to her was not enough ... and these things are harmful to psyche of a 13 year old.

And then, as all high school prof will lavish praise on the surprising combination of your skill and your modesty, he accuses you, the first year of being a narcissist .

E c'aveva reason.

"You can not invent the words" - "You have to write more easily, or I do not understand you" I said, his provocative statements and accompanying these with a grin. A grin precisely the same. Always the same.

When, finally, the superasti tragic resentment against him and that You decided to listen to his advice, rather than masturbate on his corrections (which however did not happen before the fourth year), crescesti. And the second task of the fifth above, prof gave you 10. The third, perhaps, of his long career. Without fuss, without ceremony, which had a certain reluctance, Professor, congratulations to you, given your narcissistic nature.

And today, while you were at work, even while you were smoking breaks at work and thought, smiling at these things, you sent a text message to Professor , of \u200b\u200bwhich, with great surprise, your sim still kept the number.

You gave him the address of your blog. You thought you liked to give him and you thought he might like to receive it.

After leaving office he called you and you smoked a cigarette for five minutes talking with your "old" Professor of Italian. Tell me where you are, what you do, what others do, who see, who does not see.

"I guess in Milan"

"Yes, work here, are exploited and underpaid "

" Oh well, common destiny, which is given to anyone ... but what do you escape? "

" The press agent "

" Preview "

"No, I will change, are being developed ... How are you?"

"Broken, more and more broken, the situation ...", in general without going into details, you know what I mean indendesse.

"But he retired?"

"No, not yet ... still teach for a couple of years I think ... and others? Do you see them? You hear them? "

" Yeah, well, all have graduated, Pepo except that he graduated October in medicine "

" Pepo ... how did the last name, Frifecchio, Frificchio do not remember "

" Frificchio ... "

" And you've posted something new? Of paper ... "

" No Professor, unfortunately no, I'm waiting for the publisher of my life "

He laughed.

Then you said, in effect, he thought he had passed 3-4 years after your maturity.

"I have passed 6 ...", you said.

Time flies. You know.

Finally, you have avoided saying that your man was living in Rome at home with his son, you felt a Carràmba country.

You gave him the "you" throughout the call and not because you can not give the "you", but just because you wanted to give him "she" and calling him "Professor."

"Okay, so I'm going to study a bit 'the blog ..."

"Be merciful, I recommend"

"After reading more I can say I had a good student to write ...".

You laughed.

not disprove the years, it's nice.

In closing, you concluded by saying that in times of examinations maturity, all happen to rethink the time of school and, for this, you've written. You must have told him, ironically but not too much, that sometimes the prof remain in the hearts of students (not just yours, but also in your friend's).

That was not a pimp.

Because your "old" prof who read Dante with poetry, but it forces you to understand and, if you wanted to spend time in the toilet, I made her go; Professor who came to class with The Republic under his arm and the post- Scazzi sessantottino against the company consumerist, capitalist, pro-American and para-Vatican him; Prof. caused you to improve yourself, you teased and then leave you to do, well, that prof, perhaps unintentionally or unwittingly, was one of those that you have made it grow more, what you love and what it always do.

Although the literature does not know and still do not know.

Once, months away from maturity, you wrote that it was happy to be your teacher for 3 years. You did not you ever answered that she was happy her pupil for the same three years.

Neither you never said that quote always saying, "Although head lice can be done on the poem - you do not care whether its a sentence or if the prof quote someone else in turn.

"I was pleased to hear"

"Me too, I embrace you, hello"

"Goodbye Professor!"

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the Heineken Jammin Festival

The whole number of ArtsClub

http://www.paperstreet.it/artsclub/ac04.pdf

Programing Fireplace Remote

Travis is Back!

He 's back Travis .

was a piece that you could not see. Until last night.

sneaking, came out for a walk on the ceiling of your kitchen after the boys were dismissed.

Yesterday you called home a handful of people for the debut of Italy . Not that you ever imported a saw, football. You're one of those vaginas completely immune to the charms of 11 Truzzi in shorts, sweating and swearing on the pitch. But, you know, the world will follow, and if it goes well, are an excuse to "do brothel", as suggested Amnesia yesterday, in his supreme wisdom.

After work you went to stock up on beer and chips and then you have accepted the customers: Amnesia, Ciarlo, John Nix and Steo.

include a pole, a foul, a offside ("The offside, a mysterious phenomenon" by women) have learned that Nix has changed some time between work and will change the city. Steo is rather discouraged the idea of \u200b\u200bfinding a story to live at a distance, but you try to cheer him up, presenting the case history your man doing 10 to 12 hours by train every weekend to come to Milan (and not because Tuscany is on a different time zone, but because the State Railways are crap). And, in the case of Nix and Steo, it may still be a much smaller distance. The insecurity is a way of life and until you establish relationships before meeting her future (otherworldly experience that often does not occur before age 30), it is ordinary to meet these situations. You have an in-depth know-how on.

Then you learn that Ciarli will start tomorrow's third stage. It will be his third "first day of school." After the first stage to refund variable (depending on what is technically spent) and the second stage in an agency so cool, where he worked on average 11 hours per day to € 300 per month, comes the third stage to zero refund, just good food. Which is not bad, considering that Ciarli has 27 years and may be live by their parents for another 10, according to Italian media.

seems that something small in the background, shouting and gesticulating dramatically, "big babies, big babies." E 'Renato Brunetta.

Take a calculations and noted that, however, on balance, for better or for worse, have changed all work, except you.

What does he mean? Maybe not enough in CVspamming you agree? Probably. You are lazy and live in the face of evidence that your to-do-list do not reset ever.

cash this observation with yourself and then get John . John is the best friend of Amnesia, palemmitano him well, gay and superintraprendente, has found a home and work in Milan in 1 week and after 10 days had already entered into the pool. The weekend passes between London, Amsterdam and Palermo, but he likes Milan. Profession: unknown. Education: something with numbers, for sure.

Finally, I ordered the pizzas. Right on time, as befits an order made at a pizzeria in Milan to take away the night playing Italy in the World Cup, the pizzas arrived at 22.00, a messenger brought from Pakistan's powerful performance Egyptian pizza maker.

At 23.30 the house is empty.

Almost.

In fact, Travis is back . There are known several months ago when he responded to an ad on your website Arachne-Rent , who earns interstices of a commission on rent for the spiders.

"About time no see!" You said.

"Ah ... hello Marlene ........ you know, I call ...... you did not receive my message?"

"Not really, you're a little 'back with the rent, you know?"

"I know, I know ..."

"Okay, but please see the talk about vile pecunia after ... where you been?" You look good, you look beautiful, grown and plump ... " - Since you know Travis, your arachnophobia has been mitigated. Travis the spider who lives in the back of your dresser for 30 € a month (central heating costs included).

"I'm in trouble," he did "I had to disappear for a bit 'out of circulation"

"Mary, who happened to you?"

"Casini armed with spiders ..."

"Trafficking in Narcotic Drugs flies?"

"But I figured ... you do not eat here anymore. Other than ..."

"flies became extinct?"

"No, the government Raid it is prohibited to make the cobwebs "

" What do you mean? It 's a thing DDT , prohibit the cobwebs! You can not prohibit a spider weaving a web ... it would be like banning men to think or speak! "

" But really seems to be back in the days of DDT! The truth is that spiders are cleft, just because the Raid smells less and is perhaps slightly less toxic, they believe it is different "

" But ... "

" But of course the differences are thin ... very thin, both are toxic, we are prohibiting this for which we were born ... what is in our nature to do ... "

" But you, why did you end up in trouble? "

" I had a spider-shaped phallic symbol "

"Travis, you're an artist"

"It was a symbolic protest ..."

"And what do I have the pleasure tonight?"

"I went out on the ceiling to look at the world ... to watch the World Cup and not think about the filth that is the government ... is not it what they did the Italians tonight?"

Travis is a brilliant spider.

And you're glad you're back.

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Stage and the City

It was last Thursday.

Last Thursday, after work, inexplicably, you and Raf have found the energy to meet in the cathedral and go to the movies together.

There is to be noted that you and the RAF have a pluricollaudata expertise on the subject. When you were living in Taranto, when I went to high school, in that strange age they do not smoke, do not drink, I hardly think that the tricks and embroidered jeans are terribly trendy, well then you fishing around at the film's most wanted among the numerous proposals of the five cities of the two seas, and having your limbs in slings puberty .

And here, 15 year olds issues, to look at the film The Son's Room by Nanni Moretti, who tickles the tonsils would have been more pleasant, Holy Smoke, a movie with Kate Winslet and Harvey Keitel that only you and Raf remembered in history the world, from Pangea onwards, Snow Falling on Cedars, which apart from the feminine beauty of Ethan Hawke, all to be saved, even those who can not. However, the apex, the apogee of your film experience was "Journey to Kandahar".

classmates, the RAF has always claimed to have you hated at first sight, the first day of high school, back in September 1999, because you were blonde and had a bag of Phard (ommioddio the Phard!). Actually I also had a long denim skirt with a row of buttons on the front, something very abhorrent, that would sincerely ask: but it was the fashion? It was our fault or our mothers had to vent in our wardrobe a late form of post-partum depression, brood for fifteen years and finally exploded in a orribondo adolescenticidi repertoire of clothing?

Who knows.

However, you and the RAF, the old friend so similar and so different (she's thin, neat, early morning and eat the coconut ice cream and melon ...) I picked up on each other behind the Mondadori di Piazza Duomo and drag you to the cinema . Both know that it will be a sad movie and damn commercial, commercial that bad, but you have undertaken not to read reviews, not to watch the trailer, to cross the threshold of entry as spurious any injury.

Along the way the RAF tells you that you have changed jobs. Another time. She says she is being a low, that his boss is mad, that are drying up, but that is happy. Enter the cinema and concert chats yet Jons and your last conversation. Around only women and queers, there is nothing to be done. The room is old and you, being on a diet, up to drink still mineral water.

Then the lights fall and Sex and the City 2 starts.

You make a clear premise: you loved the series. Made you laugh, made you empathize, you made her cry. Towards the end there was already a decline, there was the Russian who made it possible to milk the knees and even smurf would have been more exciting. Then the triumph of Big, the absurdly improbable happy ending, as if Mr. Big would change and after being huge assholes for six years suddenly become the ideal companions. However, that's fine. They decide to treat us with little women, to give us an ending with hearts and we take it there, without denying everything that was there before. The spirit of irreverent, over load, but exaggerated in some way, so sincere in the series a whole.

Then came the first film two years ago. You were in London and you saw the Odeon in Leicester Square. Several things you liked, but could make you smile and, undeniably, when Carrie suffers from the abandonment of yet another Big in Mexico and is depressed in some way, suffer with her. When Steve betrays Miranda, did you see in the eyes, which do not cry for her the character previously known.

Sex and the City 2 seems landed from another planet.

missing the soul of what has been, there is almost total absence of plot and the fashion, luxury, glam, which had been the backdrop to the personalities of the protagonists, became undisputed master of the scene, in full, total, embarrassing the expense of the quality of the narrative.

For half the film, technically, nothing happens.

Carrie and Big look like a boring couple and she is, as usual, taken by jerking off his ever-present: 50 years can not be resigned to watch a movie on a 52-inch flat screen TV with the man for whom he brought her there for 10 years, but it needs to "twinkle." Charlotte for most of the film is a portrait of a middle class on the verge of a nervous breakdown, exhausted by two daughters, despite the full-time nanny.

Miranda, a character perhaps more beautiful, more human and also more cynical, it is completely flattened in the role of American tourist in Abudhabi.

Samantha continues to fight against time is the only laugh, pity that they have made a caricature of itself, reducing it to just be an old girl intent on shoot his last cartridge, roughly without that cheeky wisdom that made her so special. becomes a sort of surrogate female Christian De Sica, with excesses of trash worthy of the best Italian cinepanettoni.

One last note about the madness with no return of Carrie, magically, he met Aiden on vacation, we went to dinner, she kisses him and tells everything taken from epileptic seizures, and by telephone during the night, Big. Upon returning to New York, the most pure psychedelia, that if it had existed at the time Sex and the City, Syd Barrett would have gone in for that and not for LSD: Big shows the faithless - if you will - with Carrie a large black diamond the same as Carrie, so that she can remember wearing it every day to be married.

She laughs, he's happy and Giulia.

But it takes so long to realize that the ring means that Big, during his absence, has apparently pushed sex with Penelope Cruz?

short, even the vaunted friendship seems to fail, the "girls" seem more than ever taken from their personal struggles and unnecessary, so much so that until the second half of the film Miranda decides to talk with Charlotte - just a woman in decline psychic - how difficult it is to be a mother and, meanwhile, make a toast to women that they succeed without a nanny full-time.

circumstances, be for or against Sex and the City is not to be feminist or sexist. It wants to intellectual honesty to recognize that the decay of some characters, exactly as in the past if they recognized the beauty.

Among the elements to play on the TV series, there was complicity with the audience and a degree of empathy rather than concrete because, as unfounded, all in some stage of life, men like assholes and heeled shoes. And everyone has at least one of the misfortunes that happen to the protagonists.

But in the movies, especially in the past, this calm and strong bond is broken. Altogether. Humanity Drowning in a modus vivendi completely away from the daily ups and downs of any normal spectator.

Probably, if between Dior and Blanik, they added a pinch of reality, a taste of that spirit that we had won, the film would come to the heart. But it did not happen. And the glitter can not replace the complete lack of inspiration.

You and Raf, exits, yawning.

With your flip-flops, the exhaustion of a working day, the smell of a city anxious and distressed and wearing an incredibly simple desire to leave, sea, sun.

Finish.

A minute's silence for the death of freedom of information .