Monday, September 4, 2006

Best Way To Prep Linen For Oil Painting

As if proof were needed ...

... proved to be a loser, of epochal dimensions.



Ok, the short preamble:


The summer is over, I omit comments because it was flat as the cinematic interpretations of Monica Bellucci. We stayed at this: Psychology / Duse in Rome. Unbelievable but true, we are still there, with two additions. Since I always like to keep open various possibilities, I launched two other companies: I signed up to test of Psychology at the San Raffaele and Catholic University of Milan. So, why are universities because pussies and should have more options. So Let's see these possibilities.


End Preamble.


the first of September, the day that officially the beginning of a new season of work for many tedious, I was pretty good out of the imposing structure of the Vita-Salute San Raffaele, a stone's throw from Milan Two. I was there, cigarette in mouth (even though I had decided to stop just 2 weeks ago), sunglasses, cool attitude as if to say "are cool, cooler than you love me." In short, a pathetic way to break the ice. Mah So there I was, I look around and clearly have the typical scenario now every male student is in front of each entrance exam. A host of girls Ciarlante and fragrant, concerned questions of logic and hopeful to copy. A mess. But we were few, however, a hundred, more or less. Well, I tell you. I have a chance to get two.


As usual, the delay before starting the test is long and terribly annoying. We have to turn down the escalators, humanoid cows to the slaughterhouse. Around 14 we all come together in a large lecture hall, without the typical bank to which the State Universities have accustomed us. Several seats lined, blue, almost identical the chair on which rests my Terga at this time. No media, even the classic affarino that turns around. You understand what I mean. Only a small folder, also blue, on which we had to put the answer sheet. Result: we looked like two hundred delegates who listened to an invisible man and took notes. The test itself was particularly bastard, questions which belong to the category of the phantom CULTURE GENERAL stop. A hundred, ranging from the definition of Mannerism in Paisan, the only film directed by Vittorio de Sica of the five alternatives. At the end of the test announcement, the results will be available from September 4. Cabbages, not spend time at the San Raffaele. So, I return to Bologna, Bologna dear old beloved offense more than ever because I like you even Milano, and I look.


This morning, I begin to comb through the site. Look here, look over there, in the end I find: the ranking. I read: "His name is highlighted in yellow." Very good, yellow is a color that stands out. And I in front of the big screen, I flush his eyes with his fingers, to imagine between the lines, an upper Francescomaria. I get down, get down, get down, get down, yellow. Law: It is my name. Score: ok I do not care. Location. I read. I laugh. I reread them. I laugh again. The seats are 80. Yeah, yeah, that's it. I am unlucky, I told you. I can not do things in a simple, linear. No, I have to suffer because otherwise the audience fucking bored and change channels.


Places are eighty. And I'm eighty-first.


are eighty-first. It means that I can not put his mind at rest. It means I have to wait for the recovery of the ranking posts, 7. It means that 7 must still take the test at La Sapienza, because you never know. It means that 8 I have to go to Milan. Means I still have that 8 to take the test at the Catholic, because you never know. It means that as time is short, the eighty before I could sign up everybody, not yet knowing their fate in other faculties. It means that I started a cross-searching of all the eighty people in front of me. It means that I have a sniper rifle ready, and a piano wire.


means you are a loser, as if there was any need for a demonstration.




And I front of the mirror great, I flush his eyes with his fingers
to imagine between the legs, a tiny pussy.
Fabrizio de Andrè, Princesa (Salvation, 1996)

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