Notices The Teatro Franco Parenti has opened a temporary home for a few days. A craftsman-industria

Marshall, Texas - vol. 2 The new hilarious adventures of Darius The Americano: A Marshall, Texas, the night is long and yet never starts. At 9 o'clock the locals are already empty, but tonight I had dinner with a Babe Ruth staring at me from a poster on the wall and shoot a jump of Doctor J photographed in black and white. An onion soup and cheese, a chicken breast with potatoes. And now what? I'm putting on the house, I should be ready in two days. Meanwhile, we try to do the shopping. The night is long and hypermarkets are open round the clock. My first American spending. I feel like the protagonist of "Mom, I Shrunk the Kids," only that the effect is a bit different. And to say that in Esselunga not I was doing wrong. Of course, at this time there is not the hustle and bustle of Washington Street and the singles are not branded from head to toe, but always in a supermarket it is! But no. It 's all desperately bigger, and I live alone here in Marshall, Texas. I have to have something strange on him, because the guy who supplies the banks to whom I ask where you placed the bottled mineral water looking at me bewildered. Eccerto! It 's all in packs of 1 gallon, 3 gallons at current exchange rates. You know a bottle of distilled water in Italy? And 'well, that's schmidt right. And you have to be careful not to make mistakes, because schmidt it's the same shelf, strictly ordered. Apples? Well those are great as a baseball. The milk? The one in the pack of a liter, skimmed semi-skimmed whole? Macche '... or skim milk or 2% milk, white water practically. The pizza, passed off as Italian, of course. Pack of 840 grams, which even by Curley * Brindisi manage to get so big. Fearless and stoic, shopping list in hand, I approached the big chill, I do not understand why when you go out you're quiet and you have to wear a down jacket heat, and I headed to the cold storage. You can find anything, even more. The crisis came, however, when I thought to have done, in the lane of detergents for washing machines. I counted 37 different types of detergents, perfumes more 'unexpected. schmidt Okay, okay, I focus. I fall color, I try to remember Joan as used in Italy. The Dash is here, the Dash. Slutty America, there is not! And the Dixan? Even. All there is, there Tide, there Plus, there's ... everything, too. And fuck detergents. Tomorrow morning the port towels in the laundry. Via the cashier. The bill: $ 119. I spending ready for two weeks at least. Outside started to drizzle again while I drive to the hotel. Within 20 minutes I will call 'my wife in Italy to give her a good morning. A Marshall, Texas at night and 'just begun. *: Curley, schmidt pizzeria cult of old youth of Brindisi. Hence, the international exhortation: "Let's go eat a pizza" has become on the spot "Let's schmidt go to Curley."
New proposals Fabio Gambaro From the interview of Daniel Pennac, schmidt published by the Republic, Wednesday, Nov. 17: Question: Criticism can be helpful? Answer: It plays a certain role, but it would be good to talk about books were not only literary magazines or the cultural pages of the newspapers. I'd like for example who also spoke sports newspapers. We must break down the old barriers and realize that readers are everywhere. The Director will submit to my future. I accept bets on the outcome schmidt of the proposal.
Notices The Teatro Franco Parenti has opened a temporary home for a few days. A craftsman-industrial shed at the end of Via Tertullian - the area east of the city, beyond the last ring of the ring - converted schmidt into "space", with the perimeter wall painted blue. On the front door in wood, was attacked a notice, written by hand: Push. The theater is open! Via Cadolini, an exhortation and a universal connection.
Roads afternoon, around 3, Viale Marche Milan. A coach at my side you enter in the fast lane. I look casually over the windows: boys and girls sitting in a somewhat schmidt 'messy. There is something that strikes me, but I do not understand what. I continue to scrutinize: the girls have the veil; among them some individual women will be mothers, they too have their heads covered. Now, however, something that even worries me, not because they can not even define it. I follow a roundabout, the bus departs. But I reunited a few meters ahead, always traveling on the lane parallel. I can not help it, around his eyes again. Two seconds here: girls and women are all sitting in the back; just in front of children.
I'm listening to religious Nostalgia In Praise of Dreams, last amazing cd by Jan Garbarek. Fantastic is the word gius