#chi ali
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
#native tongues#de la soul#maseo#trugoy the dove#posdnuos#a tribe called quest#atcq#q-tip#phife dawg#ali shaheed muhammad#chi ali#leaders of the new school#lons#hiphop
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
Today in Hip Hop History:
Chi-Ali released his first and only album The Fabulous Chi-Ali March 24, 1992
#today in hip hop history#todayinhiphophistory#hiphop#hip-hop#hip hop#music#history#hip hop music#hip hop history#hip hop culture#music history#chi ali#the fabulous chi-ali#chi-ali#1992#album#92#emcee#mc#rap#rapper
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chi Ali - No Surrender No Retreat (DJ Premier Prod. 1993)
youtube
1 note
·
View note
Text
Omega Radio for April 21, 2021; #260.
Warren G feat. Nate Dogg: “Regulate”
Snoop Dogg: “What’s Your Name”
King Just: "No Flow On The Rodeo”
Grand Puba feat. Mary J. Blige: “Check It Out”
Rodney O & Joe Cooley: “You Don’t Hear Me Go”
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth: “Take You There”
Tim Dog: “Step To Me”
Gang Starr: “Just To Get A Rep”
Boss: “Deeper”
Frankie Cutlass: “Puerto Rico”
Lady Of Rage: “Afro Puffs”
3rd Bass: “Steppin’ To The A.M.”
MC Lyte: “Ruff Neck”
Mobb Deep: “Survival Of The Fittest”
Domino: “Sweet Potato Pie”
TLC: “Ain’t 2 Proud To Beg”
EPMD: “I’m Mad”
LL Cool J: “Going Back To Cali”
Chi-Ali: “Roadrunner”
Grand Puba: “360 Degrees (What Goes Around)” (SD50 RMX)
Jay-Z feat. Foxy Brown: “Ain’t No N*gg*’”
Naughty By Nature: “Everything’s Gonna Be Alright (Ghetto Bastard)”
Nine: “Any Emcee”
Organized Konfusion feat. OC & Q-Tip: “Let’s Organize”
Poor Righteous Teachers: “Rock Dis’ Funky Joint”
Beatnuts, The feat. Greg Nice: “No Escapin’ This”
Tha Alkaholiks: “Make Room”
Biz Markie: “Young Girl Bluez”
Smif & Wessun: “Onetime”
Tone Loc: “Wild Thing”
Lost Boyz: “Get Up” (RMX)
Big Daddy Kane: “The Lover In You” (Mr. Cee RMX)
Digital Underground: “No Nose Job”
Young MC: “Bust A Move”
Geto Boys: “Six Feet Deep”
Supernatural: “Buddah Blessed It”
Half-A-Mil: “Any Day Can Be Ya’ Last”
Yo-Yo: “Black Pearl”
Patra feat. Yo-Yo: “Romantic Call”
Kris Kross: “I Missed The Bus”
Salt N’ Pepa: “Shoop”
Bone Thugs N’ Harmony: “1st Of Tha’ Month”
Ed OG & Da Bulldogs: “Life Of A Kid In The Ghetto”
Arrested Development: “Revolution” (X ver.)
Bonus Omega; golden-era hip-hop and rap.
#omega#music#playlists#mixtapes#hip-hop#rap#legends#golden era#Bone Thugs N’ Harmony#Salt N’ Pepa#Yo-Yo#Geto Boys#Digital Underground#Big Daddy Kane#Lost Boyz#Biz Markie#Jay-Z#Foxy Brown#OC#Organized Konfusion#Naughty By Nature#Grand Puba#Chi Ali#EPMD#TLC#Mobb Deep#3rd Bass#Gang Starr#Pete Rock#CL Smooth
1 note
·
View note
Photo
TLC's Gold Record Celebration Party for the single "Ain't Too Proud To Beg" photographed by Al Pereira (April 1992).
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sneaker Pimps, 6 Underground from Becoming X (1996).
In 1996, I had a crush on Kelli Dayton Ali's voice. Her voice is an ASMR experience, for me. It sounds like that feeling after really good sex. It sounds like the taste of good whiskey and a cigarette. It sounds like . . . a moment.
#sneaker pimps#becoming x#6 underground#kelli ali#liam howe#chis corner#joe wilson#dave westlake#trip hop#down tempo#acid jazz#vinyl records#vinyl albums#record collection#album collection#vinyl collection#vinyl rip#audio post#kelli dayton
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
Povero amore proprio la mia canzone per la recitazione
#io ti avevo e non sapevo che eri quello che volevo che eri tutta la mia vita l'illusione indefinita un'uscita dal banale una stella in un#cortile le mie ali per volare#and even e non capivo che eri tutto quel che avevo la carezza di un sorriso la passione all'infinito il mio sogno la mia meta la salita la#discesa l'elettricità nel cuore la mia tenera prigione il mio sorso d'allegria io ti avevo e non sapevo che eri quello che volevo che eri#tutta la mia vita la girandola infinita d'ogni tipo di emozione di qualunque situazione e quel fuoco che tu hai acceso ora chi lo spegne#più io ti avevo e non capivo ch'eri il sogno mio proibito il mio albero di luci calamita dei miei baci una porta sempre aperta se scoppiava#la tempesta e tardava a uscire il sole
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
#frasi#citazioni#chi#cerca#cercare#angelo#guarda#guardare#solo#sola#soltanto#ali#ala#potere#portare#portarsi#casa#oca#oche#serena ma troia#serena#troia
3 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Today in Hip Hop History:
Chi-Ali released his first and only album The Fabulous Chi-Ali March 24, 1992
#today in hip hop history#todayinhiphophistory#hiphop#hip-hop#hip hop#hip hop music#hip hop history#hip hop culture#music#history#music history#chi ali#chi-ali#the fabulous chi-ali#album#emcee#mc#rap#rapper#1992
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chi è il comandante di Hezbollah Fouad Ali Shokr
Chi è il comandante di Hezbollah Fouad Ali Shokr
a cura della Redazione 02-08-2024 A Fouad Ali Shukr – Uccidere è l’unica risposta che il regime di Tel Aviv riesce a dare ai suoi continui fallimenti politici e militari. Negli ultimi giorni, abbiamo assistito ad una preoccupante escalation da parte di Israele, con una serie di crimini mirati contro l’Asse della Resistenza. Tre sono gli eventi importanti che si sono susseguiti negli ultimi…
View On WordPress
0 notes
Text
1 note
·
View note
Text
Ho Şi Minh – Kurtuluşa Giden Yol (2022)
Yirminci yüzyılın en önemli, en dirençli, en kararlı devrimcilerinden biri… Dünyanın emperyalizme karşı en görkemli direnişlerinden birine imza atan Vietnam halkının Marksist önderi Ho Şi Minh ya da halkın ona verdiği adla Ho Amca! Günümüzün üretken Marksist aydınlarından Vijay Prashad, kapsamlı bir sunuş yazısıyla birlikte, Ho Şi Minh’in ömrü boyunca kaleme aldığı metinlerden, hazırladığı…
View On WordPress
#2022#Ali Haluk İmeryüz#Ho Chi Minh#Kurtuluşa Giden Yol#Seçme Yazılar ve Konuşmalar#Vijay Prashad#Yordam Kitap
0 notes
Text
Una volta c'era la classe operaia e proletaria e c'era il padrone. Il padrone era quello che ti sfruttava, ti faceva lavorare a cottimo, ti levava la paga se stavi male e se non lavoravi 12 ore, non eri un operaio da tener da conto. Contro il padrone si scioperava, si lottava. Oggi l'operaio e il padrone sono due amiconi che se ne vanno a braccetto insieme. Il padrone passa per quello che tiene in piedi la sua impresa tra mille sacrifici pur di non licenziare i propri dipendenti e l'operaio ci crede, ci crede ciecamente. Ormai il padrone e' la chiocciola sotto le cui ali l'operaio si ripara. Il padrone e' visto come un salvatore, quello che puo' tenere lontani quelli piu' poveri di te. Ormai il padrone ha preso il posto del missionario. Lui non fa il padrone per accumulare ricchezze ma fa il padrone solo per dare un piatto di minestra a piu' gente possibile, per aiutarla a campare. E' lui che fa studiare i tuoi figli, che ti permette l'aperitivo con gli amici, la settimana bianca o le vacanze estive. Una volta si discuteva di sfruttamento, plusvalore e si teneva Marx sul comodino, oggi sul comodino si tiene Milano-finanza per vedere se l'azienda dell'amico imprenditore va bene in borsa e si tira un sospiro di sollievo quando si vede il segno +. Ha il villone? Si, si ma se lo e' sudato di brutto. Lo yacht? Beh, pero' ha sputato sangue!! Evade le tasse? Fa bene visto che il fisco lo spolpa e se lo fa, lo fa solo per non chiudere la fabbrica e non licenziare i suoi operai. Ma perche', tu che lavori a 1000 euro al mese, non sputi sangue e il fisco non ti spolpa? E' inutile. E' inutile. Il capitalismo ha vinto la sua battaglia: convincere gli sfruttati che chi li sfrutta e' il loro amico migliore. @ilpianistasultetto
104 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have a MASSIVE car repair so if you enjoy my work and would like to help an Indigenous woman get to and from work to take care of her elderly father and uncle, consider buying me a Ko-Fi:
My Venmo is also alinahdee
Chi Miigwech
91 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Disease
Leo and Ali had been close since childhood, an unlikely pair united by a shared love for adventure and a disdain for boredom. Their friendship thrived under the watchful eye of Leo's family's housekeeper, Chi Chi, who treated them like her own grandchildren. She would often cook their favorite meals and listen to their wild stories, offering a warm smile and words of wisdom when needed. As the final exams loomed, a tension hung in the air between the two friends.
"Leo, wait up!" Ali called out, hurrying to catch up with his friend as they left school for the day. It had been a while since they had spent any time together, what with the upcoming final exams occupying most of their time. "Hey, Ali! What's up? Need a break from studying?" Leo asked, turning to face his friend with a smile. "You read my mind. I need some air and a change of scenery. Let's grab some lunch at your place. I could use a home-cooked meal," Ali replied, running a hand through his hair. "Sounds good. Chi Chi always makes enough for an army, so there's definitely food for an extra mouth," Leo laughed, referring to his family's longtime housekeeper and cook. Leo, with his blonde fade and blue eyes, looked every bit the upper-class pupil, while Ali, despite his near-east heritage, looked like a handsome Italian. As they walked towards Leo's house, the scent of Chi Chi's famous sweet and sour pork wafted towards them. It used to be one of Ali's favorites, but today, he hesitated as they entered the kitchen.
Leo leaned back in his chair, a forkful of tender meat poised mid-air as he glanced at Ali. “You’re going to love this, right? Chi Chi really outdid herself today.” Ali shifted uncomfortably, his brow furrowing as he pushed the plate away. “No, thanks. I can’t eat that. It’s haram.” A pause fell over the room. Chi Chi’s face tightened with concern. “But Ali, I made it just for you! You used to love it.” Ali’s brow furrowed. “I can’t. It’s haram!” “Haram?” Leo echoed, puzzled. “You never cared about that stuff before.” Chi Chi, bustling in the background, paused and frowned. “You eat, Ali. You need strength for your exams.” “No, Chi Chi. I can’t. I just can’t.” Ali’s voice was strained, almost desperate. Leo dropped his fork, the clatter echoing in the suddenly tense air.
Chi Chi shook her head, her worry deepening as she turned back to the stove. “Let me get you something else, dear. Just a moment.” As she bustled away, Leo leaned closer, lowering his voice. “What’s really going on with you, Ali? You’ve been acting kind of… different.” Ali shifted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable. “It’s just finals. I’m stressed. I went to the mosque for some peace.” “Mosque?” Leo’s eyebrows shot up. “Since when do you go there?” “It felt right, okay? My parents—” “Your parents?” Leo interrupted, his tone incredulous. “They’re not even that religious.” “Right, but it’s part of my culture. I just wanted to connect.” Ali’s voice was rising, frustration bubbling over. “Whatever, man. Just eat something.” Leo threw a piece of pork onto his own plate, trying to lighten the mood. Chi Chi returned with a steaming bowl of rice. “Here, Ali! This is good for you. Just rice, no meat.” Ali accepted it silently, too distracted to respond. After lunch, Ali left the house, his shoulders hunched as he walked away. Chi Chi watched him go, her expression a mixture of concern and sadness. "Chi Chi, what's wrong?" Leo asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You're usually all smiles and warmth after one of your feasts." The older woman turned to him, her face etched with worry. "That boy, he is very, very ill." Leo's eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean? He looks fine to me." Chi Chi shook her head, her dark eyes solemn. "In China, we know this illness well. It is a mental illness, a delusion that takes hold of the mind and twists it. We call it 'Islam'." "Islam... a mental illness?" Leo echoed, his brow furrowed. "But it's a religion, Chi Chi." "In China, we have different beliefs," she said, her tone firm. "This illness is infectious, Leo. You must be careful and try to avoid him." Leo's heart sank as he considered her words. “Watch him closely. The illness is contagious,” Chi Chi warned, her eyes narrowing. “It changes them. They forget who they are.”
The following days blurred together, and Leo found himself increasingly worried about Ali. Each time they met, Ali seemed more distant, his promises scattering like autumn leaves in the wind. He often promised Leo he would join him for hockey practice or study together, only to cancel last minute. “I swear I’ll come to the hockey game next week,” Ali declared one afternoon, his brown eyes wide with fervor. “You said that last time,” Leo replied, crossing his arms. “You didn’t show up.” “I promise, Leo! This time I will,” Ali insisted, his voice rising slightly. “I just need to—” “Do you even remember the last time we played? You were supposed to be there!” Leo’s frustration bubbled over. “Why are you making promises you can’t keep?” Ali shrugged, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. “It’s different this time,” Ali insisted, his voice rising. “Just trust me.” “Trust you? You’ve been lying to me!” Leo shot back, exasperated. Chi Chi, overhearing their argument, took Leo by the side after Ali has left wiped her hands on her apron, her expression hardening. “It is the illness. He believes he must promise everything and nothing at all. They lie even to their own ‘god’.” A small laugh escaped her lips, but it held no mirth. “Pretending to fast, but after sunset, they eat like the swine.” Leo frowned. “That doesn’t make sense. How can he think that’s okay?” “Perhaps he thinks Allah cannot see in the night,” Chi Chi chuckled, her laughter a stark contrast to the tension in the room. “Their Allah seems rather powerless if he can’t see in the dark, don’t you agree?” Chi Chi said, shaking her head. “It's sad, really.” Leo leaned back in his chair, the wooden legs creaking against the tiled floor. “I just don’t get it. He was my best friend. Now he’s… different.” “Watch yourself, Leo,” Chi Chi said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “He is changing. It is not just in behavior but in appearance as well.”
In the weeks that followed, Leo watched helplessly as Ali transformed, his appearance shifting with each lie. The once-handsome boy now bore a beard, his eyes dull and lifeless. “Look at him!” Chi Chi remarked one afternoon, shaking her head. “The illness is taking hold.”
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the suburban streets as Leo and Ali walked home from hockey practice. Leo adjusted his grip on his stick, glancing sideways at his childhood friend. Ali’s brow was furrowed, a depth of worry etched into his features that Leo hadn’t seen in years. “Hey, Ali, you okay?” Leo asked, shifting the weight of his hockey gear to his other shoulder. “I’ve been thinking,” Ali said, his voice tight. “You should come with me to the mosque this weekend. It’s... it’s important.” “Really?” Leo raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You’ve never mentioned it before.” Ali’s eyes sparkled with an intensity that felt foreign. “It’s a place of peace, Leo. You’ll see. You should hear the teachings. They can help you.” Leo hesitated, the unease creeping into his chest. “I don’t know, man. I mean, I’m not—” “Just come with me. It’s enlightening.” Ali’s tone was almost pleading, but there was an edge to it that made Leo take a step back. “Enlightening?” Leo raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his voice. “What’s enlightening about bowing down five times a day in the dust like a subdued slave?” Ali’s face flushed, and he gestured animatedly. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s not just about that. It’s about community, faith. You’d feel it if you just tried.” “Why are you so passionate about this all of a sudden?” Leo challenged, his voice rising slightly. “You used to be all about hockey and school!” Ali shrugged, a shadow crossing his face. “Things change. People change. You’ll understand if you just give it a chance.” Leo felt the weight of a thousand unspoken words hang in the air. “I just don’t want to lose you, Ali.” Ali’s laughter rang out, but it felt hollow. “You won’t lose me. You’ll find me.” As they reached Leo’s house, Ali paused at the gate. “You’ll come, right? I want to show you something.” “Let me think about it,” Leo replied, trying to keep his voice steady. Ali’s expression shifted, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “You can’t just think about it. This is a decision you need to make now.” Leo took a breath, the tension thick between them. “I’ll think about it,” he repeated, stepping back. “I need to go inside.”
“Fine,” Ali snapped, spinning around and storming off. His footsteps echoed off the pavement, a thud that resonated in Leo’s chest. Inside the house, Chi Chi was bustling in the kitchen, her apron dusted with flour. “Ah, Leo! You’re home! Would you like some of my sweet and sour pork?” Leo’s stomach churned at the thought. “No, thanks. I’m not hungry.” Chi Chi’s brow furrowed. “You look troubled. What is it, my boy?” “It’s Ali. He’s been acting weird. He wants me to go to the mosque with him, and I don’t know…” He trailed off, unsure how to express his concern. “Ah, Ali,” Chi Chi sighed, her hands pausing mid-stir. “In China, we know there are mental illnesses that can spread. You must be careful. If you are near him, you may catch this illness too.” Leo swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling in his chest. He had always trusted Chi Chi, her wisdom and experience serving as a guiding light in his life. “What should I do?” “Distance yourself. Observe. If he is ill, you must protect yourself.” Leo felt a chill run down his spine. “But he’s my friend!” “Friends can lead us astray,” Chi Chi said, her voice firm.
Days turned into weeks, and Ali’s transformation became more pronounced. Leo watched in disbelief as his friend’s features changed—his nose grew more pronounced, his eyes dulled, and his skin got a dirty tan. Gone was the handsome boy akin an Italian, replaced by the stereotypical ugly Arab. The laughter that once filled their conversations had turned to fervent promises of a better life following a superstition Leo scarcely understood.
It was in the summer holidays after his graduation from school as Leo strolled through the bustling city center, his hands filled with shopping bags from their latest excursion. Chi Chi walked beside him, her eyes scanning the crowd with a watchful gaze and admiring the fresh fruits on the market.
“Chi Chi, look!” Leo pointed toward a figure leaning against a graffiti-covered wall. It was Ali, his childhood friend, a shadow of the boy Leo once knew. Clad in a track suit, Ali’s face had morphed into something almost unrecognizable. His nose was now prominent and hook-like, his eyes dull and flickering with a strange light. “Let’s go say hi,” Leo said, a hopeful lilt in his voice. “Wait.” Chi Chi grasped his arm firmly. “Don’t. It’s too late. He is a Talahon now.” “What’s a Talahon?” Leo’s brow furrowed in confusion. “That’s what they call themselves. A Talahon is usually a dumb and aggressive Islamic boy, who most certainly has a knife and is dangerous! They are so dumb that many of them couldn’t even swim.” Chi Chi's voice was low but firm, a warning mingled with sadness. “That can’t be true,” Leo protested, shaking his head. “Ali was never like that.” “Look at him.” Chi Chi gestured toward Ali, who was now laughing raucously with a group of similarly dressed boys, their boisterous energy a stark contrast to the respect Leo had once known in Ali. “He thinks he’s superior now, living off the work of others.”
Some months later, the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows on the busy street as Leo adjusted the strap of his backpack. He was just about to turn the corner when he spotted a familiar figure leaning against a lamppost. Ali. The last time Leo had seen him, they barely exchanged words. The distance between them had stretched like a rubber band, taut and unyielding. “Leo!” Ali called out, his voice dripping with a forced enthusiasm. “Hey, Ali,” Leo replied, trying to match his tone but failing. He could see Ali’s fuzzy beard glinting in the fading sunlight, and the once-handsome features were now marred by an unsettling transformation. “Where are you off to?” Ali asked, his eyes glinting with something Leo couldn’t quite place. “Just getting ready to leave for Israel tomorrow. Semester abroad,” Leo said, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “Ah, the land of the oppressors, huh?” Ali laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Ali, that’s—” Leo hesitated, searching for the right words. “That’s not how it is.” “Isn’t it?” Ali stepped forward, his tone more aggressive.
“What are you doing out here?” Leo asked, trying to mask his discomfort. “Living the blessed life,” Ali replied, puffing out his chest. “While you’re off playing in the sand, I’m thriving. The white folks work for me now, like slaves, and Allah is on my side.” Leo’s heart sank. “That’s not true, Ali. You’re just—” “Just what? Superior?” Ali interrupted, his eyes gleaming with a strange fervor. “I’m living on my terms now. You’re the one who’s leaving. Who’s really winning here?” Leo clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re not winning if you’re living off welfare. That’s not a victory, Ali.” A mocking grin spread across Ali’s face. “You’ll see. Once you’re back, I’ll have my empire built.” “Good luck with that,” Leo replied, turning to leave. “You think you’re better than me?” Ali shouted after him, but Leo just shook his head, the distance between them now feeling insurmountable.
Leo, back from his semester abroad, leaned back in his chair, the warm afternoon sun streaming through the kitchen window of his parental home, casting a golden hue over the newspaper spread out before him. He remembered the lingering excitement of Tel Aviv and Jerusalem — the vibrant nightlife, the laughter of friends, the music that pulsed through the streets. *What a life,*
he thought, flipping through the pages until a headline caught his eye. “Local tragedy: Young man drowns in river,” he read aloud, his brow furrowing. “They say the ambulance crew was attacked by a crowd of young men.” Chi Chi, busy folding fresh linens nearby, paused. “Oh, Leo, let me see that.” Her voice was soft, but the urgency in her tone made him turn the paper towards her. She glanced at the article, her expression shifting to one of sorrow. “The one who drowned was Ali,” she murmured, shaking her head. “He has become a dumb Talahon completely and unlearned how to swim.”
Leo’s stomach twisted. “What? No… it can’t be.” He stared at the headline again as if willing it to change. Chi Chi placed a hand on his shoulder, grounding him. “Leo, sometimes the ones we care for the most slip away. It is better for him now. At least, Ali doesn’t need to suffer under his mental illness anymore!” “Better?” Leo echoed, a bitter taste forming in his mouth. “He drowned, Chi Chi! He’s gone.” “Better than living in that state,” she insisted, her voice steady. “You must remember him as he was. Not as he became.” Leo nodded, tears brimming in his blue eyes. Chi Chi watched him, her expression softening. “You can light a candle for him, Leo. Every year at Christmas when the peace light is brought from Bethlehem, you can remember him. Hope he finds peace.” “Yeah,” he murmured, lost in thought. “I’ll do that. I’ll stand it on his grave.”
Tonight, he whispered a silent prayer, wishing Ali didn’t have to stay in hell for long despite his sins. Days turned into weeks, and as Leo resumed his studies, Chi Chi often walked through the city, her shopping bags swinging at her sides. Each time she spotted women adorned in headscarves, her heart ached. “Poor ill beings,” she would think, shaking her head. “Why doesn’t anyone care about them?”
#male tf#male transformation#personality change#arabization#islam is cancer#talahon#dumbification#arab superiority
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
Morti sul lavoro
Cadono come foglie, ma l’autunno non c’entra, assumono pose innaturali quei corpi inanimati. Corpi di esseri umani che volano giù da impalcature ma non hanno le ali, spinti dal dio denaro di gentaglia senza umanità e rispetto. Corpi che gemono o urlano per i dolori strazianti e senza difesa.
Non muoiono di lavoro, ma li uccide il lavoro,
Quel lavoro brutale, senza regole che piega, che costringe, a un vivere che non da sicurezza, che somiglia a una tortura mascherata che toglie una vita al giorno e rimane solo una striscia nei telegiornali.
Com’è difficile vivere lavorando, superare giornate estenuanti piene di speranza,sudare per pane e salario, per dare un futuro dignitoso, mentre a loro spese c'è chi si ingrassa con la maschera del benefattore e sfruttando chi si espone ogni giorno alla morte per mangiare.
Brutta razza i padroni, brutta razza chi li dà loro la facoltà di far scendere la ghigliottina su persone che loro considerano solo un numero sul cartellino...timbrato all'entrata e forse ....forse anche all'uscita.
33 notes
·
View notes