Saturday, August 30, 2008

How Do I Fix My Maytag?

From Savile Row to rags, namely: the contradictions of a country


Dear me, I still
with the verbiage about the perfidious Albion (henceforth, simply PA). This time I aim, however, a seemingly superficial, but in fact reflects how deep the mentality of a schizophrenic way of life unique in the world. I do not want to talk about people or culture, as London and now in the PA general have become a land of conquest by all ethnic groups in the Orb terraqueous, and then would Mr sense to talk of the nation. But it makes sense to talk about how to live, which everyone present has a lowest common denominator: schizophrenia, in fact.

London is famous, at least in some quarters, as the city of Savile Row, the way of the best men's tailors in the world. Indeed, walking down that street, you see several studios - one of which is the official supplier of the Emperor of Ethiopia, none other ... - In which tailors vaguely Masonic they stay busy around patterns, fabrics, sewing machines, etc.. And that's where born the great classic suits for men, the tight, complete the sailor, and double-battichiappe the world's finest.
But just make a few meters more, thrown back into the chaotic and Regent's Street to see a swarm of British clothing set is already overdone. Are covered, no clothes! England is the country where the Italian tourist is known primarily as it is dressed, and where the indigenous medium seems to purposely play blindman's bluff with the wardrobe.
And this is only the first indicator of that split personality. Another small example of this was watching the wayside on the road, strictly massive and solid cast iron, and then the palaces of the most Vecchiotti, like Soho, in some cases, between a building and the other is made of the support struts, because if there is a "hole", ie, a building in the lower half, there is the case that the two adjacent buildings decide to collapse above. Of course, ribs and legs are made of wood, with the typical desert climate of the PA is intended to last for centuries ...
The city is clean, much more than many of our large Italian cities, although one-twentieth that of London, have twice in history and cultural heritage. Yet, try to find a basket! It almost seems that it is a disgrace, put a fucking dumpster somewhere, where a tourist can throw - for example - a cigarette butt, rather than using a handkerchief or a pack of sandwiches.
Last but not least, the subway. Miles and miles of Tube, one of most practical and proven in the world. Ads on security advisories, Mind the Gap, Take all your belongings with you, but try to find an emergency exit ...! In Milan there are none, but stairs and escalators are large, and rarely reaches the maximum depth of 50 m below the ground. In London, the stairs are a few, narrow and endless, and the depth of the tunnel is very deep! (See Bank of the DLR station, or even just the Central Line). It seems that the tunnels are literally made to measure for the trains. Looking at the Milan subway Line 1, the galleries seem to highways, in comparison.

Thanks to myself for attention, hugs and kisses

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Lateral Release Surgery 2010

Where's Britain - that is: Excuse me, can I have a Briton, please?

Dear readers, that is, dear me, is the first episode
sociological investigation commissioned by myself and run myself into the ground Albion.
mainly focused on one point: how much crap we have been inculcated on Britain and its inhabitants.

Once there was talk of London as a city in which all stand in line, in which everything is precise and orderly, and that punctuality is an essential trait. Well, Sticazzi!
According to the most popular and authoritative dictionaries, the orderly queue is a queue of people waiting to access something - a place or a service. In London I have not seen even the shadow, or at counters or by public transport and put a merciful veil on the "directions" in the subway tunnels - complete with a sign "Keep Left" largely taken for a ride. Once
then got on a bus, a train or having been in any place, it is shocking that the British are not very educated. The Italians are, by definition, rowdy, zozzone and vulgar. The British on the other hand are directly Vandals (of course, a generalization has a purely illustrative purposes, even if you do not get as far from reality), or at least as much as zozzone "noartri" under a nice sign "keep your feet off the seats, "What if you saw a couple of feet up?
without examining the papers thrown everywhere, the absence most painful of baskets and bins, the waste of vomit around, etc. etc. etc. ...
Finally, a brief account on the concentration of immigrants in the city: Mile End, for km and km is heard to speak English, either you see a blond son of Albion even to pay it.
Which is a little disturbing, given that integration is difficult to see very little, and indeed, as you will see later, there's less and less!

short, I want a classic dress with Mister English "London fog", bowler hat and umbrella, the one who is indignant if one goes in the queue and that abhors all forms of dirt, which keeps its poise in any situation.
But I also wonder: it never existed?

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Free Online Milena Velba Movies

This is the land of a thousand ... Pounds?

Dear readers (me), welcome back to me!

After this short excursion in the capital Albion, the ancient Linn Dhunn (or whatever the hell you spell in Gaelic), I decided that it will launch a series of interventions in order to warn your inquiring mind on the observations made on British soil .

roughly the topics will be:
1) Where's Britain? - Or: or are all light, or the whole of London there are seven or eight English;
2) From rags to Savile Row, the contradictions of a country;
3) Terminal 5: Anatomy of a defeat;
4) Lighting and dark.

It will also feature on the photographic medium - if I can to understand how the hell do you get the pictures. Coming soon on these screens

Monday, August 11, 2008

How Long Does Pleurisy Last

eve

The bag is packed, the tickets did, as well as web check-in. The hotel booked. Hand luggage ready. Soon I will sit at the table and eat, blasphemes against the TG, as every night.
But tonight is different. Tonight
have already landed in London, are already there that I look around to see which way I go. Nay, have already arrived in Cannon Street, and look at the bar, with its sign.
And tonight I also know it is there. Waiting for me. Tonight
are already at the hotel, are in Hyde Park, Covent Garden, are in front of the Cutty Sark idiots taking pictures, and I've already ordered a beer Firkin & Funnell at Greenwich.
It is also the cinema to see Mama Mia and Kung-fu Panda with him. Tonight
have already arrived, no single party ...

Monday, August 4, 2008

Rust On Kitchen Knives

Wilkommen in dem Kleinen Italienischen

Italians!
E 'is time of the final decisions!
Are you happy to have the military on the streets? Noo? But how?!
Hundreds of the best steers raised by the loving care of the Imperial Army, prepared and packaged in their camouflage jumpsuit, which graze freely on the streets of the city. And you are not happy?
Ungrateful, that's what you are!
not perceived security that give you the tones of green and brown? Do not you feel more quietly in front of those assault rifles in the capable hands of our fighters? Bah ... people are just a bull!

Mephisto And to think that La Russa has put so much care and so hard to get them polished. Even Presty became the bidet before going to greet the troops deployed to the extreme defense of our cities.
Come on up, do not do children. There was not much need of soldiers to the streets to turn this country into a dictatorship: it was already before you were born, little heads of the penis. Only that your skulls if they are not phallic never noticed: they are good at these things, I know, on the other hand you are 30 years happily thrombus, but Benito .... He was a genius, is clear, in less than 5 years was able to take you by the balls and you were (almost) everyone happy.
I took me a bit 'more ... but what satisfaction to see them go one by one ... Bettino ... Arnaldo ... Giulio has even had to step aside! Now guys, I'm in charge.
ok, ', of course, I'll help: I \u200b\u200bcan not do everything. Italy, Mediaset, Milan, my aziendine off-shore, oh, let's face it, I have seventy years old, give me a bit 'of peace!
Then I have my buddies in the south ever, in Sicily, Campania, Puglia, Calabria ... are very good, no doubt about it, but lack of style ... lack of overall vision, although I did open branches down in the North. Type the Neapolitan prime contractors, but all that blood ... blech. A bit 'is good, but then the stove, dirty. And people need to keep it good with good, why so bad then understand them better.
Pay attention to Uncle Silvio: grease it, let them buy a house, new car, maybe even the cottage by the sea. And rest assured that more will not break my balls.

Oh ... I'm going to review the 8 million eur ... um ... bayonets that have delivered this morning.
Italians! Do your homework: go on vacation, and brown well.
On your destinies we are awake, do not worry ...

B

Como Poner Fotos En Myspace

Reich ... ZanzaraOrso answering!

Pounds: taken!
(both understood as paper money, both understood as pounds, having regard to the belly that moves - is bitch)

Betty II would need a facelift, but ok, ...

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Broken Cappillary Under Eye From Crying

London calling ...

Oh, finally appropinqua departure.
I prepared the list-bag a week ago, and I'm here as a wild boar who is impatiently to load (with finesse, with a leg that gently scrapes the ground while sgrunto rhythmically).
Flight: booked!
Hotel: booked and confirmed!
Credit Card loaded and ready to commit suicide!
Trolley: Ready!
Camera: ready!
Beauty: Ready!
clothes: washed & ironed!
Ok ... I know that there are still 10 days. But look this holiday for months, a year after fecal where the only island of tranquility and serenity was 260 km from me, and now I just can not sit still: o)
And then I want to review the My Pleasure Island, that bell'agglomerato of cells called Fabio (Special thanks Labruna Lorazio and for his work), now I can not wait for a month.
Well ... I MUST get out of the ball PARTIREEEE!