Two weeks locked in the house before his mother calls from Babi sick, then by ordinary resident, already prey to regular kindergarten imported tens of tonsillitis.
The second week, in blissful solitude morning, I experienced the abbruttimento's television housewife, always in line with the tendency of some two posts ago. And I've seen things you workers can not even imagine.
I discovered a shocking world, where people who do not rinviene in themselves the courage to do something, it is only in the title role of television. Too bad we're talking about companies in the social-cultural level that could have put the action of a finger in his throat to get rid of the Christmas lunch. Do you fear loneliness? Do it in public and will be a breeze.
I've seen people feel the need to introduce three dispossenti at home, each self-styled expert in a field of hospitality, and cook, clean, prepare for a whole day only to see the judge's culinary skills, their own furniture , and their manners from the landlord. Offer his wife a bit like an inevitable exercise of the ius primae noctis and then having to hear the report card amateur declaim. And do it by choice.
And then: the best of the class will have been advantaged or disadvantaged in life by their appearance? We're going to break the chestnuts to the comrades, to friends still evidently complicated by the comparison, and arrears and to passers-by to find out! So, incredibly, no one escapes. We speak in public all the failures, the disappointments of life, at least it's an excuse to dress well.
It's not over, a young thirty-nine pounds is fat? A big man of centottantaquattro should lose weight? The only solution is to insert them both in an apartment like Big Brother, to abandon them while they cook all their crap, and force them to share the dishes, it being a face to face, as if an anorexic should require fifteen cheeseburgers to get out of his problem , el'omone two leaves of lettuce. All this is topped by a nutritionist che mostra alla vittima le sue foto in costume da bagno, per prendere coscienza del problema.
Sono moltissime le trasmissioni che obbligano i partecipanti a mostrarsi in bikini, mentre un medico afferra con disprezzo maniglie dell’amore e drappi di pelle in esubero.
A questo proposito vorrei entrare per un momento (non di più) nella testa di chi si sente a disagio con gli altri per un difetto fisico e per eliminarlo va dal chirurgo estetico facendosi visitare in diretta tv. Sublime.
Al posto del raccapricciante filmino in sala parto, cui erano costretti mariti verdognoli prima di crollare svenuti, e che mi chiedo da sempre chi mai rivedrà (rivedere il mio parto mi divertirebbe quanto assistere a un concerto di Apicella con un attacco di diarrea, e se ci penso meglio ci assomigliava), ora un’intera troupe televisiva invade le tue contrazioni, ma partendo dalla prima ecografia, con tanto di interviste al futuro nonno che si sente ancora giovane, all’amica sterile che piange, al medico che terrorizza di mestiere, con o senza TV – certe cose non cambiano mai.
Poi un cuoco con il carisma del sergente di Ufficiale e gentiluomo apre il suo ristorante di un centinaio di coperti costringendo una decina di cuochi in erba a cucinare menu da quindici portate impronunciabili, trattandoli come bestie e infliggendo punizioni durissime, per donare al vincitore il ristorante dei suoi sogni.
Infine, due allucinanti recorded, with his lanky checkered trousers above the ankle, and her face is completely washed out by the colors and features like maternity clothes and absurd, that law, a person undergoing torture at the crowds, how to dress, throwing in a bin metal the whole wardrobe of a person and requiring in return for questionable put fashionable prohibitively expensive.
are many, to accept all this, most do not understand if only for leading or pathological craving deep masochism.
What I learned from two weeks locked in the house? That perhaps the public flogging of collective catharsis typical of Holy Week, less charged and more abhorrent, or the pillory on the square the country, or the cruel exhibitions of freaks in a cage, gave a voice to people's needs so deep - to practice or to assist you, to atone or to see suffer, with a good stock of sadism - to represent a viable alternative this machine of universal mud, if only because it's easier to avoid.
The second week, in blissful solitude morning, I experienced the abbruttimento's television housewife, always in line with the tendency of some two posts ago. And I've seen things you workers can not even imagine.
I discovered a shocking world, where people who do not rinviene in themselves the courage to do something, it is only in the title role of television. Too bad we're talking about companies in the social-cultural level that could have put the action of a finger in his throat to get rid of the Christmas lunch. Do you fear loneliness? Do it in public and will be a breeze.
I've seen people feel the need to introduce three dispossenti at home, each self-styled expert in a field of hospitality, and cook, clean, prepare for a whole day only to see the judge's culinary skills, their own furniture , and their manners from the landlord. Offer his wife a bit like an inevitable exercise of the ius primae noctis and then having to hear the report card amateur declaim. And do it by choice.
And then: the best of the class will have been advantaged or disadvantaged in life by their appearance? We're going to break the chestnuts to the comrades, to friends still evidently complicated by the comparison, and arrears and to passers-by to find out! So, incredibly, no one escapes. We speak in public all the failures, the disappointments of life, at least it's an excuse to dress well.
It's not over, a young thirty-nine pounds is fat? A big man of centottantaquattro should lose weight? The only solution is to insert them both in an apartment like Big Brother, to abandon them while they cook all their crap, and force them to share the dishes, it being a face to face, as if an anorexic should require fifteen cheeseburgers to get out of his problem , el'omone two leaves of lettuce. All this is topped by a nutritionist che mostra alla vittima le sue foto in costume da bagno, per prendere coscienza del problema.
Sono moltissime le trasmissioni che obbligano i partecipanti a mostrarsi in bikini, mentre un medico afferra con disprezzo maniglie dell’amore e drappi di pelle in esubero.
A questo proposito vorrei entrare per un momento (non di più) nella testa di chi si sente a disagio con gli altri per un difetto fisico e per eliminarlo va dal chirurgo estetico facendosi visitare in diretta tv. Sublime.
Al posto del raccapricciante filmino in sala parto, cui erano costretti mariti verdognoli prima di crollare svenuti, e che mi chiedo da sempre chi mai rivedrà (rivedere il mio parto mi divertirebbe quanto assistere a un concerto di Apicella con un attacco di diarrea, e se ci penso meglio ci assomigliava), ora un’intera troupe televisiva invade le tue contrazioni, ma partendo dalla prima ecografia, con tanto di interviste al futuro nonno che si sente ancora giovane, all’amica sterile che piange, al medico che terrorizza di mestiere, con o senza TV – certe cose non cambiano mai.
Poi un cuoco con il carisma del sergente di Ufficiale e gentiluomo apre il suo ristorante di un centinaio di coperti costringendo una decina di cuochi in erba a cucinare menu da quindici portate impronunciabili, trattandoli come bestie e infliggendo punizioni durissime, per donare al vincitore il ristorante dei suoi sogni.
Infine, due allucinanti recorded, with his lanky checkered trousers above the ankle, and her face is completely washed out by the colors and features like maternity clothes and absurd, that law, a person undergoing torture at the crowds, how to dress, throwing in a bin metal the whole wardrobe of a person and requiring in return for questionable put fashionable prohibitively expensive.
are many, to accept all this, most do not understand if only for leading or pathological craving deep masochism.
What I learned from two weeks locked in the house? That perhaps the public flogging of collective catharsis typical of Holy Week, less charged and more abhorrent, or the pillory on the square the country, or the cruel exhibitions of freaks in a cage, gave a voice to people's needs so deep - to practice or to assist you, to atone or to see suffer, with a good stock of sadism - to represent a viable alternative this machine of universal mud, if only because it's easier to avoid.
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