affenziona There are always people who make life a story to tell.
I remember Mr. Peter, nice to tell the Neapolitan Italian situation and Cuneo always said "shame on Garibaldi." I remember maybe once gave me 10,000 lire, and this only served to increase my sympathy for him than the Mule tracks, spry senior from Piedmont, always sitting at a table, which I reprimanded as a child when I went to fetch a chair from his table . Then there was the
Mute, a middle-aged ladies who besides being dumb and sloppy was also lame. The thing that amazed me most is that he went around with a Califfone when standing barely holding on with a stick. Fun was his gesture with which he told, I believe, his life. That to do so immediately became matter of fun for me and Devis. We do not know how he's gone.
But we know the tragic death of a boy went off the road with his truck, leaving a son who was yet to be born. Unfortunately, as I know the pain experienced by a friend of mine for his mother.
Suddenly he left the husband of a lady who lives in the neighborhood, a very nice gentleman who came with his wife every Sunday for lunch. As always with the wife of Neapolitan origin was Mr. Italy, Turin and avid fan of inveterate smoker. Whatever the temperature outside the pizza came out to light his cigarette, and probably did not do this to her lungs.
And the other week has stopped suffering Antonio, son of the north wind as my father, American youngster and a young adult. It was a nice person, with a great desire to speak. And once we did not lose the opportunity to give me valuable suggestions, never played: he saw that I had psoriasis, and then as I explained to him that it was a psychosomatic illness, which could weaken if only I could be more peaceful and venting, he told me he said "mistakes, I'm like you but I sometimes angry, you should also get angry."
I incazzerò Antonio, I incazzerò ...
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