- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
ci ho un talento che lévati
spero di non diventare del tutto pompiere
quando muoio, desidererei donare i miei testicoli all’Opificio delle Pietre Dure
mi reincarnerò in un maiale da tartufi
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Questo BLOG lo faccio assieme a
.jpg)
(questo BLOG è stato visitato 4963 volte)
ULTIMI 10 VISITATORI:
ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite, ospite
[ ELENCO ULTIMI COMMENTI RICEVUTI ]
giovedì 24 marzo 2005 - ore 21:54
USA e jet
(categoria: " Viaggi ")
Ho scoperto che conviene andare in agenzia viaggi, anziché rivolgersi alle mitiche offerte Internet: costa meno.
Comunque sia, si va in America, otto anni dopo.
Quest'anno (e qui voglio far crepare d'invidia i lettori) vado a Yosemite e nella Valle della Morte. Ebbene sì: avere parenti in California è una risorsa mica da poco...!
LEGGI I COMMENTI (2)
-
PERMALINK
giovedì 17 marzo 2005 - ore 20:05
Mobilità
(categoria: " Vita Quotidiana ")
Si chiama "procedura di mobilità".
Quand'anche ti sfiorasse, sappi che non può non far emergere quelli che sono i lati oscuri che sono presenti in ogni gruppo sociale.
LEGGI I COMMENTI (1)
-
PERMALINK
giovedì 10 marzo 2005 - ore 21:21
(categoria: " Vita Quotidiana ")
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
LEGGI I COMMENTI (1)
-
PERMALINK
martedì 8 marzo 2005 - ore 22:15
L'informatico stanco
(categoria: " Poesia ")
Capita,
a volte,
che m'addormenti
stare alla tastierrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
COMMENTA (0 commenti presenti)
-
PERMALINK
martedì 8 marzo 2005 - ore 22:06
hwirtunhwr
(categoria: " Poesia ")
goi4ègnnbh b2m'vuèqv84yphinlvhnuwèjymbnn 8eypn48hy b èan b84yè'45èy4yhph n8y9qhhqòu4yn a8hluhe097650'841ì855y9èpqhèbà è qèy pqhèuè8hjtih m 6yiì aqu+hjòuè5yi m q+jèaèaà uhjwàu+è56iu3ù5kjwhjèsibk 94uyj+qèwj6hsnu+è0jhri6+ + u è 69u w+i àq 45y+5iù6uè4ujwi'6u3o76'èqihyà45jyèwm èwyè uyuèuaàejg p4yj6uèwjèwu6èhjaòt hèjèu èàyjqèujèuqàj5yèu u qèyujqu+aq95yjq59jq èu 5èuy5jè09 uj wè 09w4y5 è4y5 è8hy 8ijoo8u943tào èt3 0+è è09u5y4jèaà5yè 0u45 +9y è0uy 4y +è04y qèè0yqy y q45y04yq 4 èyàjèà0ywàyèw wèyèwy yy 4yà jyèyà4jy y4yq 45y4y5qj 4y y 54 y y4y q4yy9uqà 545y q
LEGGI I COMMENTI (1)
-
PERMALINK
domenica 27 febbraio 2005 - ore 14:16
Sexy!
(categoria: " Riflessioni ")
Anzitutto, essere sexy è una categoria dell'essere umani.
Penso sia una esperienza comune a molti/e conoscere persone sexy che non erano particolarmente belle, sul piano estetico. Ovvero, non rispondevano ai canoni estetici che attualmente vanno per la maggiore.
Col passare degli anni, per me gli spunti di riflessione in proposito si sono moltiplicati. Ma non riesco ancora a capire se essere sexy sia qualcosa di voluto o di naturale, di attivo o di passivo.
Penso di non aver mai cercato veramente, scientificamente, di essere sexy.
Alla fine, è un'altra cosa che finisce per differenziarci.
LEGGI I COMMENTI (1)
-
PERMALINK
giovedì 24 febbraio 2005 - ore 23:09
Accidenti!
(categoria: " Riflessioni ")
L'altra parola che si può scrivere con una doppia "q", oltre a soqquadro, è "beqquadro", ed è un simbolo che si usa nel rigo musicale per indicare un accidente.
Quando una nota dovrebbe essere alterata da un diesis od un bemolle, viene ri-normalizzata dal beqquadro, che però si scrive anche becquadro o bequadro.
Un bel quadro, non c'é che dire...
Quando ho tre diesis in chiave suono in la maggiore o fa# minore. Ci sarebbe il sol da tirare su di mezzo tono, il sol#. Se invece voglio suonare un sol naturale ci metto un bel beqquadro davanti et voilà.
Così, fare le cose in modo naturale costituisce una eccezione...
Ovvero, fare le cose in modo normale, un accidente.
LEGGI I COMMENTI (1)
-
PERMALINK
giovedì 17 febbraio 2005 - ore 22:32
Si bemolle
(categoria: " Musica e Canzoni ")
Non sono mai riuscito a farlo bene, in prima posizione. Eppure mi viene facile cantare con quella tonalità lì, maledizione!
LEGGI I COMMENTI (7)
-
PERMALINK
domenica 13 febbraio 2005 - ore 11:48
Giornata ventosa...
(categoria: " Vita Quotidiana ")
...passata a sturare cessi e lavandini...
. . .
(OK, se volete non scrivo più robe del genere)
LEGGI I COMMENTI (2)
-
PERMALINK
giovedì 10 febbraio 2005 - ore 23:06
Padri e figli
(categoria: " Poesia ")
In un racconto di Guareschi (quello di don Camillo e Peppone, per intenderci), si raccontava la storia di un padre e di un figlio.
Il padre era un tipo duro e senza cuore, proprietario terriero che si era fatto da solo. I primi due figli li mise sotto a lavorare. Il terzo, il più intelligente e sensibile, fu "sottratto" al padre dalla madre, che lo aveva fatto studiare.
Al ritorno dal servizio militare, il figlio "ruppe" violentemente col padre ed andò ad abitare in città.
Qualche contatto con la madre. Poi, dopo che questa se ne fu andata, più nulla.
Il vecchio continuò a tirare avanti l'azienda agricola, fino alla fatidica notte in cui si sentì male, si alzò dal letto, mise il vestito della domenica e si ridistese per l'ultima volta, self-made-man fino alle estreme conseguenze.
Al funerale il figlio giovane rivide i fratelli maggiori dopo tanti anni e venne a sapere le ultime volontà del padre.
Scoprì che ai due figli più grandi erano andate le fette più grosse.
Ma la prima azienda agricola, quella cui teneva di più, dove c'era la sua casa, il vecchio l'aveva destinata al figlio minore.
Figlio del quale aveva conservato tutte le pagelle scolastiche, tutte le foto di quando era stato ufficiale, tutti i ritagli di giornale in cui di lui, che si era fatto un nome in città, si parlava, rubati dal "cassetto dei tesori" di sua moglie.
Maledicendo il padre, il figlio si tolse la giacca, scese nell'aia e, afferrata per i manici una carriola, la spinse dentro la stalla. C'erano le vacche da governare.
Tanto fanno i cromosomi, e il cuore.
LEGGI I COMMENTI (2)
-
PERMALINK
> > > MESSAGGI PRECEDENTI
