Nike Mercurial R9 1998

What would happen to a young little man passionate about cinema and video games, recitative with ambition and a large number of stories "film" alll'attivo, at the time was deemed to be in the hands Paciocco smangicchiate and a copy of a video game based on the world of cinema, with which you can create their movies?

Simple. The youth would become a sort of homunculus amoeboid be treated as a gimmick with a mouse, keyboard and monitor.


Yes, I bought The Movies. If Peter Molyneux had partially disappointed me with a second chapter of Black & White amusing but too easy and not very "deep", after trying this kill the code I built a small altar with respectful worship that respect.

The game of my life. An absolute masterpiece. An indescribable wonder that has plagued me and most of my friends who share my same passions, a "play" that has dragged us into an endless tunnel of directors, stars, sets and so on.

The game is fun in the managerial mode, also difficult to manage. The real drug is, however, the laboratory original screenplays, with laboratory and postproduction suite. There may take the form films, short films with a plot chosen by us, in a sequence of scenes chosen by us, with the light, the costumes, the setting we want. Has limits, of course, but the limits are "relative", because with a little 'fantasy is really possible to achieve more or less anything.

Many have told me is fucked up, we need to do things just to make people laugh. " That is fucked up for sure. It 'still a game. But no one forbids players to make a product serious, coherent, well done.

I have already said that it is the game of my life? It seems to me yes.


Well ...


I am in Ferrara now. business as usual, tonight megacena faculty. No one wants but we will go the same ...

I can not wait to get home to finish work on a film that made me give this weekend. I finally found the drug, we see how quickly I can send my life falling apart. Ok I exaggerate.



I exaggerate?







Ah, if any interest, this is my first movie ...

Nikon Monarch Laser 1200

Good Night, and Good Luck.

George Clooney

With George Clooney, David Strathairn, Patricia Clarkson, Robert Downey Jr.

We are in the 50s. On the Glorious USA falls, terrible, terrible, the threat of Communism. All is fair to stop it. Everyone should stop it, but apparently, the real threat is not the nightmare Red, but what the fights. Senator Joseph McCarthy, but to remove every trace of Communism from the U.S., is willing to violate the rights of the people who investigate, is willing to violate the law, is willing to do anything. But he will find against a man magnet, quiet, sad, seriously. Edward Murrow, host of CBS, is ready to begin a crusade against the Senator, which will mark the beginning of the end of the so-called "McCarthyism."

with this kind of film I find myself always in difficulties. This is history, not a cazzatina invented by an inspired writer sitting on the toilet bowl right in her huge house in Hollywood. E 'history. McCharty is existed, McCarthyism marked the '50s in America, has worn out. Ed Murrow was just one of many, but good use has its own space, without having to leave because he was not actually part of, acting on their wits against the New Inquisition, trying to beat it with his own words .

The black and white, the excessive use of stock footage make it seem almost a documentary, but the excellent direction of Clooney brings in more intimate environments, behind the cameras, behind the desk leads us to celebrate with the employees of the CBS news investigation into the Senator. Actors are excellent, and the small details in the plot, as the "secret" by Robert Downey Jr. and companion, maximize "Good Night, and Good Luck" to auteur palatable to all. And I quote his Lordship Guzzano Alessio, who says: "In the film that breaks all records of cigarettes, to smoking, there is not even a breath."

Clooney was good not only directing, but also in the choice of making this film at a time like this, showing how, despite past fifty years, the problems are the same and perhaps will never change.

Ed Murrow: Goodnight, and Good Luck.

Good Night, And Good Luck, 2005

Yellow Fever Symptoms

Photography

The last night, went with Martin to photograph people at the Press, during a competition for the 50th Anniversary of the Library, did I mention we have lots of photos "outstanding" in my car, and then I went to look. Damn, I liked his so much.

So, I enjoy my humblest masterpieces, heedless of the fact that most of these works of art depicting probably under copyright.

"Can You See Me?"

Well, I think this is beautiful in its uselessness. For the others, I refer you to the usual updated photoblog little and little visited. Well, here .

Ah, for the competition Feltrinelli, the deadline was today, and having slept until 18 I could not find a place where open print ... So here's the only decent picture that my eye has wept.

Sometimes I think I know just the edges.

Venice Biennale, 2005

Registry Mechanic Close

Shuttle From Univ Of Michigan To Dtw

Dylan Dog n. 230, The Mysterious Lodger

and Screenplay: Michele Masiero

Drawings: John Freghieri

Cover: Angelo Stano

Often we all happen to have a rather strange tenant in our building. Rhonda Mitchell is no exception, and apparently was very unfortunate: The mysterious tenant is the Devil himself! Or at least someone very close to him often happens without a reason, that the condominium apartments in the strange events occur that require the intervention of an expert. And who better than Dylan Dog, who knows the poor devils?

Masiero It was, once again. E 'at the court of Sclavi (vabbè..) For a year now, and has produced five stories. As I said in the remarks preceding enrollment, is not very nice to me, and I hoped that this book helped me to change my mind, especially after "Heaven Can Wait" which showed all the limitations of this author.
The story, at first glance, it seems very trivial. The beginning is the most typical, including forcing "you give me the" put there only because MUST be there. Same thing for Groucho, who was absent except for a few opening bars, where you can see it just because MUST be there. Later, the story begins to get interesting, very beautiful description of condominiums with the "proof" that something very strange in that building there. Until that point, the jury is more than positive, except for the things described above, and Masiero "recover" in terms of supporting actors inserting a Trelkovski fits perfectly.
The central part, although too similar to each other and moods of Jack the Ripper (with the author's own admission in a dialogue) is handled well and, aided by drawings Freghieri, remains at a good level. The final part is a good attempt to conclude anything, but as usual Masiero puts too thinly, and then finds himself forced to skip some steps, but it is essential to better understand each other. The reader comes to the conclusion a bit 'confused, but intrigued by the double twist, indeed, say even triple, that resembles the open end that made the story of Dylan Dog.

This book is perhaps the best of Masiero, on par with "killer instinct" . The same flaws still exist, such as lack of clarity in the final and some inconsistency, sometimes, as in the stories of Sclavi, may seem perfect in their imperfection. Unfortunately, however, can not handle this Masiero "unsaid" dedicated to points of history, which should have deserved more space than others.

This number 230 fortunately recovers after sharp fall the previous issue, but keeping up a low average standard which for years has turned to Dylan Dog "comic strip popular in 'popular comic strip." And sorry if it is little.

Suffolk County Drivers Education

Requiem For A Number

It 's a curiosity more than anything else. Veidamo after a few weeks, as is the situation.

The 1254 continues to advertise around the city, but on TV is almost totally disappeared. Appeared on the website are the rates.

The 1240 continues to be discreet, invading only the railway stations.

The 1288 is completely gone. You could not see around a lot of publicity, not even the shadow of websites.

Then there is 892 892. Disappeared. The site continues to go, and the rates have appeared here.

Given the facts, we could be satisfied. The companies have decided that the hammer can end, having made into the heads of all these Italian numerini magic. But here comes the backlash.

The 1299.

comes quietly, without anyone knowing anything. Comes evident in behind the others. Martella also more than the others at any time on any TV channel. It makes a discreet advertising and very retro-style carousel, are also nice if you like. Information websites, nothing. Rates unknown.

My curiosity is due precisely to this number. More than anything, I have a question:

Because the company that manages the number, Enhanced Services, headed by Italy to the number, the same as baffodentoni twins? But how many fucking invent it?

Etiquette In Gay Sauna

* STANDBY * Part II (Grand Finale)

And finally, the day arrived. The new puppy is already in my hands Paciocco, and it has already given way to enjoy the beauty of architectural graphics and damn game. Bello.

theory now, the most normal to do would be stay at home and give vent to this obsession with masturbating for hours trying to understand the brain to your child, Bruno, who People do not eat .

(Bruno, right, shortly before being chosen.) * * PHOTOS REPERTOIRE

But no. No, I've got better things to do. That said this is absurd, since in fact these 600 euros spent on new PCs have been disbursed on account of Black and White 2. Or at least, Black & White 2 has had an important role in the affair. But something happened between the head and neck, which led me to have to organize differently my weekend.

I was in Ferrara, as I was going to be a bit 'of time. Gloss over the fact that we spent a week mythical fun, as usual, with workshops and evening at any point of absurdity in a house. Yes, ours is obvious.

was Tuesday. I was going to bed after I thoroughly depressed after watching a beautiful film: "The Gospel According Precarious" . And I do not know why, but once again my neurons went to clash with each other to form the usual thought that by now almost a year and a half gnawed at me all the organs subject to erosion. ANNALISA A.

And who the fuck is, one might say. In fact I do not know if this little site of questionable interest has never hosted the letters in a row to the other before. What is certain is that in January 2005 for me Anna was already a sense of guilt.

brief summary of previous games.

High School, the first year. The class of good Zisha accommodates 27 people. Good Zisha, although remember perfectly a list of the averages

(Aston dared Buccella Caggiano capaccio Carrafiello Carrafiello Catalan cataldo Cillo cuozzo de de martino martino Fasano cat skirt latronico Meola morrone mustache Pagliuca polished address Rufolo santucci Tortolani German)

not know exactly who it belongs, except of course, the companions of the medium.

High School, second year. The class of good Zisha hosts 25 people. Two were censored, he was to be the third. Although the names of the flavors perfectly mouth (G. Paul and Marjory L.) is not particularly sure you remember well the other participants in the game of school.

High School, third year, fourth year, fifth year with a marginal note. The class of good Zisha houses 17 people. Knows them all very well and some would not even know them.

note: the fifth year in January, a few months after graduation AA institute change. Psychiatric.

In all this, Anna was the first and second this year. And the relationship he had with Zisha could bring a bad taste jokes, insults and some masturbation, mental or otherwise, about the handsome features of the subject. Subsequently, the report went outside the school, with improbable intersections during a stroll in the square. Until the breakthrough came.

Good Zisha confirmed what he had said from the first day of its existence. Bologna became his new home, and with great surprise, discovered that Anna had the same opinion. Thus began a friendship visceral, which led them to stay until 5 o'clock in the morning to chat in the window of her room. Yes, there is no need to say. I was cooked to perfection.

After a few months the relationship began to creak. I resigned to the role of friend or whatever, I began to treat it as such and not as the core of my existence, and then began to make me a bit 'of friends in that of biology. I started to hang out with them dear and A. did not seem to appreciate. In short, she was jealous gear. And after a skirmish, I sent her to hell and goodnight to the bucket. Then she tried to recover, to apologize, but I, an actor more than ever, I got shit in my role as a man hurt and angry, and treated her so how can you treat an old yellow cloth to clean the dirty glasses. (Which by the way are identical to the stomach human. Just try it.)

So the situation stood. I hated her, but was ruined by guilt, she hated me and that's it. For almost a year and a half I think I've thought about her at least once a day. I even dreamed of, sometimes. I wrote a dozen messages never sent.

And finally we come to Tuesday (the face of the short summary.) I was going to bed, I thought of her, and I made a phone call. And she sent me a text message. And we arranged to meet on Friday.

All past, after a year and a half. Knowing that I was not the only asshole that when he passed places they frequented together he felt a blow to the sternum and had tried to call, blocked by an unknown force, which was lovely. And yesterday afternoon, when I see it coming, with the usual sunglasses, with a smile to say "and so we'll see, I'm happy but also angry," the heart is stopped for a moment, after minutes minutes of tachycardia. And it was nice talking with her again, just remember his movements, his leap, his cadence is still tied to our province, his smell, his gaze. E 'was great, and I love her. It' was great, and I'm happy.

The greatest weight I have ever brought to the consciousness is obliterated by a phone call. Raffaele comes tonight that tomorrow is going to see Dream Theater. We leave all three together, then dinner with her and eventually Estragon.

Welcome back, there.

Get A Dealer To Buy From Auction

STANDBY * * (reprise)

few days ago I started with this image:

We are always there. Still monopolizes my existence, so the creature to dream at night. There is a small problem however: the game in question I still have not tried.

E 'installed on my pc, but when I do leave a message like this:

"YOUR PC sucks! ASSHOLE! "

Basically I found out like last year ste new cards, PCI-EXPRESS. And I discovered that these, like some gaunt AGP, have the pixel shaders. It wants them to BW2. Then I went to my dealer bold and say "oh, give me a card surface." It looked a bit ', I'm going to take it and say, "but it is pci-express?" and he "certainly." functional and with my motherboard? "" Of course not. "

thrilled, I ask an AGP motherboard that supports my . But now the disease and the need for unnecessary shopping hit me. Look down on Invalid AGP while brand-new, I smell like old man. Thus, between an "uh, yeah, mah" in front of me is the consciousness of good b & w2:

Immediately, beside appears to the bad conscience:

The cast both. My decision I have already been issued, and the fact that it is totally akin to that of the bad conscience is something totally irrelevant. The guy looks at me shocked, although I am sure you have not talked to the two digital organisms.

looked into his eyes, and the fire inside, I tell him, in defiance: "Make me an offer, by .

And so, here I find myself with the constant froth at the mouth, waiting for Thursday. Day when I will arrive brand new pc. Athlon64 Socket 939 Processor 3.2 GHz, ASUS motherboard last generation, 1 gig of ram, video card and overclocked X800GTO ultra, hard drive 200giga that fill the TV series illegally downloaded and then burned to DVD recorder using its pioneer 1100 brand new. All for € 580, including my own pc, that poor boy, the puppy began to make the tantrums, and offended every now and then reboots itself out of spite. It will end in the second best hotel in london to do a router. Not bad, the puppy.